THOUGH not from a very religious family, I take the 9th and 10th of Muharram pretty seriously. It’s a sombre time — and one that has been observed for generations, according to the stories the elders share. We had a relative who was famed for her recitation of nohas at majalis in our ancestral village in UP. Not all traditions have been maintained — we’re not setting up sabeels, fasting on the 9th or 10th, wearing sober colours in the first 10 days, and we’re not making and sharing haleem with neighbours.

Now we watch TV, which airs regular programmes, unlike when we were growing up. We still watch Sham-i-Ghariban and Aakhri Salaam transmissions, even though the orators are less skilled than Rasheed Turabi or Nasir Jahan. We certainly do not attend parties — which I was stunned to discover, occur. Two friends — one who is Shia — were separately invited to a large get-together because their hosts wanted to make the most of the break. This speaks to a lot of insensitivity that’s crept in, more so in the last decade.

Also, when did we start wishing a happy new year on the first of Muharram? And being so vocal against cellular and traffic ‘disruptions’ on the 9th and 10th of the month? The anger is misdirected at a community that is vulnerable to violence. If taking a different route ends up saving lives, what is the big deal?

Now it’s about dictating how others should live.

Am I sounding like a grouch, lamenting the end of traditions that made this country so great?

Meanwhile, there are certain other traditions that should be sanctioned to the dustbin of history because they are hurdles to progress. ‘Yeh hamara culture hai’ (this is our culture) has been used to force people into making decisions against their will. Almost all traditions related to women are just attempts to control her body and mind. Thankfully, attitudes towards marriage are changing here — the more women have access to education, the more they want financial independence and choose to marry, or not, whenever they want, or don’t. Divorce is not the end of the world. They will speak about abuse and violence they faced. They will demand justice.

Of course, we have miles to go before we can root out the patriarchal values that keep us in the dark ages, but it’s inspiring to see the brave young women and men challenging norms sold to us as ‘yeh hamara culture hai’.

But these aren’t the traditions I’m speaking of. I’m talking of a culture that lived with differences, be it caste and creed or opinion. Our parents/ grandparents often participated in celebrations during Diwali, Christmas, Nauroze and other festivals. Their homes were open during Eid. But the change has been sad to watch, especially because it’s been replaced with ugliness.

When I was first taught one term at a private school in Karachi in 2001, all students from all backgrounds participated in the annual milad. When I returned to teach a term in 2014, a significant portion of students sat the milad out on religious grounds — which is their right. I only quote that example here to demonstrate the shift in practices.

A few years later, the same school dropped plans for students to perform Imagine by John Lennon— a long-standing tradition — because a journalist at an Urdu newspaper tweeted his objection, saying the song encouraged atheism. Lennon imagined a world without hate in his song, but the talking heads on prime TV, who took the story up, said the school was encouraging secularism.

Every year that passes, I think of young folks having less of a connection to what we were like once; how we coexisted, shared in our happiness and grief as multicultural communities do.

I feel this way about the stories I hear of Karachi before my birth — of discos and dances and bands flying in to perform. I have only seen the city as violent and now decrepit. It’s wild to see ads for cabaret performances in Karachi in the 1950s and 1960s printed in this paper. I doubt everyone liked these events, but there was a culture of live and let live.

Now it’s about dictating how others should live. Is it any wonder that people want to leave?

I’m not naive to think that tolerance is a pill that’ll fix us, but perhaps adopting a zero-tolerance attitude, if not policies, may be a good place to start. Refuse to tolerate misogyny, hate crimes, bullying by any one group that thinks its ideology is threatened and sanctions violence in the name of religion. We have lived side by side in the past and can find our way back and we know no leader is gutsy enough to lead us. So, it must be us, who record our stories, and lead by example.

The writer is a journalism instructor.

X: LedeingLady

Published in Dawn, July 21st, 2024