My acquaintance with Gul Hassan Kalmatti dated back to the early 1980s, when I was a college student in Karachi. Being active in progressive student politics meant that we knew — or had heard of — nearly everyone who had challenged Gen Zia’s military dictatorship in one way or the other.

Kalmatti bade farewell to this world at the age of 66 on May 16, 2023, leaving behind a long list of achievements from over four decades of sheer hard work. By the time he passed on, he had contributed 13 books and dozens of articles and essays, mostly on the architecture, community culture, history and social issues of Sindh, largely focusing on Karachi and its colonial heritage.

He had accumulated encyclopaedic knowledge about Karachi and commanded immense respect from his colleagues, friends and all those interested in exploring the past with a different angle.

Born in Gadap, which was part of Thatta at that time, Kalmatti had a humble family background and helped his father who was a fruit vender. In 1963, under Gen Ayub Khan, dozens of villages including Gadap became a part of Karachi’s larger administrative boundaries, making Kalmatti a Karachiite.

Along with the Burfats, Jamotes and Jokhios, Kalmattis are also indigenous inhabitants of this region and have a relationship with Karachi and its coastal areas going back to many generations. Despite financial hardships, Gul Hassan managed to acquire a decent education — first at the Sindh Muslim Government Arts and Commerce College and then from the University of Karachi, where he did his Masters of Arts (MA) in journalism.

Activist and writer Gul Hassan Kalmatti, who passed away on May 16, will be remembered for his extensive contributions to knowledge on Sindh’s folklore and history and its communities

He obtained his degree in the early 1980s. A friend of mine — who was Kalmatti’s fellow in university — tells me that, at that time, there were only two Sindhi-speaking students in the journalism department, Kalmatti and the second being Azhar Abro, whose father Jamal Abro was one of the best Sindhi writers of fiction.

That was the time when Sindh was going through political upheavals as Gen Ziaul Haq had executed the first elected prime minister of Pakistan, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who happened to be a Sindhi. The political freedoms that students enjoyed during the Bhutto government were struggling under the yoke of Gen Zia.

Still there was a vibrant culture of debate and discussions on campuses. That was the time when student leaders in Karachi, such as Hasil Bizenjo, Hussain Haqqani, Mazhar Abbas, Mustafain Kazmi, Shafi Naqi Jamie and many others were playing active roles from the platforms of diverse student associations.

Gul Hassan Kalmatti was initially with the National Students Federation (NSF), after which he joined the Baloch Students Organisation (BSO). By the time I became a college student in the early 1980s, Gen Zia had been in power for over five years and had managed to crush all liberal and progressive outfits.

The military administration of Lt Gen Sadiq-ur-Rashid Ibrahim Abbasi — Sindh’s martial law administrator and governor for nearly seven years — openly sided with the conservative and religious student association the Islami Jamiat-i-Talaba (IJT), which also had a militant wing known as the ‘Thunder Squad’.

The state machinery that Gen Zia was using against all democratic forces in the country was also hounding student activists and leaders who dared challenge his dictatorship. By the mid-1980s, Kalmatti became closer to the Awami Tehreek of Rasool Bux Palijo, finding an intellectual grounding that was unmatchable in Sindh.

Palijo was no doubt a formidable orator, a voracious reader and a prolific writer, who could influence his followers immensely. Perhaps it was Palijo’s intellect and then Abdul Wahid Aresar’s political activism for the rights of Sindhis that changed Gul Hassan Kalmatti forever.

He also remained associated with the Jeay Sindh Mahaz (JSM) and the Sindh Taraqqi Pasand Party (STP) along with Mama Raheem Baloch for a while, but then left active politics by the early 1990s. In his 30s, Gul Hassan graduated from being a political activist to becoming an intellectual and writer.

When our senior comrades Dr Jabbar Khattak and Suhail Sangi — both progressive political leaders who had endured years of imprisonment during the Zia dictatorship — launched their Sindhi daily newspaper Awami Awaz [People’s Voice], Kalmatti started contributing articles that launched his writing career in the 1990s.

He appeared on its literacy pages and also on a page devoted to history and social issues, called ‘Morhre Jo Maagh’ [the Land of Morhro]. Morhro is a folk character in Sindh that appears in many local tales. Kalmatti started writing extensively about local communities, their geography and tribes, drawing wide readership in Sindhi.

At that time, broadcast journalist Raza Ali Abidi was doing a radio programme — Sher Darya for the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC), about the Indus River — which attracted Kalmatti’s attention. Under the editorship of Anwar Pirzado — another fine intellectual — and acquiring a special permission from the BBC, Kalmatti started translating the series into Sindhi titled ‘Sindhu ji safar kahani’ that also appeared in Awami Awaz.

In the meantime, he also kept writing on the colonial architecture, history and geography of Karachi and its villages. Then his magnum opus Karachi — Sindh ji Marvi [Karachi: The Marvi of Sindh] appeared. This book garnered many awards and was translated into English and Urdu.

Another of his masterpieces is Karachi ja Lafani Kirdaar [The Immortal Characters of Karachi] that gives detailed information on and life histories of those who contributed to the development of Karachi as a city. It includes many noble personalities belonging to different faiths who have left a mark on the landscape of Karachi. This two-volume work is a treasure trove of information about the past two centuries of Karachi, though so far only the first volume has seen the light of the day in English.

Kalmatti also wrote about Sindh’s islands and their geography and history. In Sindh Ja Samoondi Bhet [The Coastal Islands of Sindh], he explores the past and present of nearly all islands of Karachi and their fishing communities. Another of his books is Ishq Joon Galiyun [Paths of Love] in two volumes.

He also wrote travelogues in Sindhi, especially about the Kalash valley.

He travelled from Bambhore to Kech Makran, exploring the path that Sasui might have taken to reach her lover Punhoon in Balochistan.

Sasui-Punhoon is another folk tale of Sindh in which Sasui from Sindh and Punhoon from Makran fall in love; when Punhoon is taken back to Makran, Sasui leaves her home to look for Punhoon. This tale appears to be more of a myth than a real story but Kalmatti did try to explore the region and he documented it quite well.

Kalmatti also established the Karachi Indigenous Rights Alliance that did some lobbying work for the local people who seldom get a voice in the matters of Karachi. After I left Karachi around 20 years ago, I rarely got a chance to meet him, only occasionally interacting with him either at some literary festival, at the Karachi Press Club, or visiting the old book bazaar near Regal on Sundays, where Akhtar Baloch — another of our friends — also frequented.

Kalmatti had a government job at the Karachi District Administration, from where he retired as a senior officer. He remained a humble and simple man and never tried to impress anyone with his knowledge. Being in the Karachi district administration, he had access to old records at the municipal office, which he made use of in his writings.

In the past 70 years, there may have been hundreds of officers who worked in the Karachi administration, but hardly anyone bothered to access the records hidden in decaying files. Kalmatti took the trouble to sift through the moth-eaten pages and also talked to people who could give him valuable information about his research interests. For example, he wrote about old water sources to Karachi, including waterways and wells that the British rulers and some philanthropists had built.

He struggled with the new housing schemes in Karachi that encroached upon old villages, and wrote a 50-page booklet ‘Karachi joo rehaishi schemoon’ [The Housing Schemes of Karachi]. He actively protested the land acquisition by Bahria Town and worked with the likes of Yusuf Masti Khan, Khalique Junejo and Usman Baloch against it.

He also had a specific focus on the impact of urbanisation on women and published an article titled ‘The impact of urban construction on women’s livelihood.’

With his departure, we have lost a genuine lover of history and folklore.

The writer is a columnist and an educator. He can be reached at mnazir1964@yahoo.co.uk.
He tweets @NaazirMahmood

Published in Dawn, EOS, June 18th, 2023