Karachi has come a long, long way from 1946, when it was a tiny fishing village of around 300,000 inhabitants, to its present status of a huge, sprawling modern metropolis with a population of over 20 million people. This megacity is home to different religions, and a number of communities, each with its own customs, language, dialect and culinary delights, blending into a brew of multi-ethnic and multi-cultural diversity.

Elphinstone Street had been considered the most important part of Saddar even after partition, and the ebb and flow on the road was the very pulse of the city. Cold cuts and liqueur chocolates could be bought from the English Cold Storage where gentlemen doffed their solar toupees or felt hats in the presence of ladies. The ABC with a picture of Chiang

Kai-shek hanging on the wall of the dining room was the king of the Chinese restaurants. Cuban cigars were bought from Rodrigues and Co. For the young at heart there was the Manhattan Soda Fountain which doled out iced milkshakes with exotic titles and one often heard the gauche outpourings of an adolescent’s heart.

For the dashing bachelor who just couldn’t master the quickstep and tango there was the Abbas School of Dancing. And the chap with an insatiable thirst headed for one of the many bars and saloons with their swing doors and blaring radios. Night clubbers with more sophisticated tastes and fat wallets flocked to the Casino in the Central Hotel which was run by a white Russian named Arty, where Stefan Eros and his Hungarian Serenades brought the flavour of Central Europe. Its successor Le Gourmet in the Palace Hotel played host to the rich and powerful. For those who preferred something more risqué and salacious, there were the fading continental blondes adept in the art of striptease who entertained customers at the Excelsior and the Oasis.

Jehangir Kothari Parade, one of the most famous landmarks of Karachi, was constructed on land presented to the citizens of Karachi by Seth Jehangir Hormusji Kothari whose generosity and philanthropy was legendary. The place was simply drenched with references of elderly folks enjoying cool sea breezes and romantic walks on the beach when the sea was about to swallow a big red sun.

This was the golden age of Karachi. Life was peaceful and orderly. The rule of law prevailed. There was no wallet and wristwatch (read mobile phones in the present context) snatching, no Taliban to terrorise the populace, no suicide bombers, no gang wars or ethnic strife, no kidnappings or armed thugs on motorcycles collecting protection money. People minded their own business. Girls cycled to school. Churches and mosques were not attacked or vandalised. Business prospered. A dollar cost four rupees and a pound cost six. Those were the days when no citizen of this blighted republic ever thought of migrating to another country. The future looked bright.

Today, the city appears to be standing on its head. In the absence of a proper, well-organised mass transit system, there are massive traffic jams and pollution levels often hit alarming levels. Criminals operate with impunity, secure in the knowledge they will be protected by their patrons. There is too much tension and uncertainty. — Anwer Mooraj