By the time you read this column, the world will be getting ready for Christmas, the agreed date of birth of the Prophet Issa as his Arab country folk call him, or Jesus of Nazareth as the Euro-influenced Christians know him. In the Quran this is mentioned in Surah Mariam.

The city of Nazareth is in northern Israel which has a 72 per cent Muslim population. The remaining are Christians. The ongoing ‘holocaust’ has seen the Zionists expelling Nazareth’s population. But let us in this piece concentrate on Christmas as was celebrated in Lahore, as well as other celebratory occasions, which we as a people are managing to kill off. Sadly, Lahore is becoming a ‘callous’ city. Being ‘happy’ has almost become a crime in communal extremist Pakistan. This is the opposite of what our holy book prescribes. But then priests have their own view.

In our youth we lived on Masson Road, in the ‘cul de sac’ known as ‘Lover’s Lane’. As our mother was an English lady celebrating Christmas was part of family life, just as was both the Eid’s – the small and the big as we called them - and the blood of the ‘bakra’ and Eid prayers in Badshahi Mosque, not to forget walking through Heera Mandi after prayers with our eyes down. It might amaze readers that our father asked us to read about other ‘beliefs’ like Buddhism, Sikhism and Hinduism. Probably his attempt was to ‘neutralise’ us to think with reason. Today reading other books is a ‘sin’ of sorts.

In Lover’s Lane there were 10 massive houses, four of which had Christians. There was, and still is, a monastery with nuns and the naughty rumours about them were titillating. Then there were 10 smaller houses in one large compound next to the monastery, which housed the Christian officials of the North Western Railways. At the beginning of the Lover’s Lane was the huge house of a spinster Miss Otto, known in the area as ‘Otto Dil Bahar’. We loved raiding her fruit garden. Next to her was where Miss D’Souza lived alone, a school teacher who always carried a spanking cane even when not in school. We avoided her point-blank gaze.

On Christmas there was the huge Christmas tree with bells and presents, which we were not allowed to touch. At night just as we went to sleep, this ‘Father Christmas’ would come and leave us presents. My elder brother and I tried our best to catch and see him, even laying old newspapers on the floor to hear the ruffle. But we never made it.

Lunch at our house was a massive affair, with roast and potatoes and salads galore, not to forget ‘maash ke dal’ and ‘allo goosht’ and ‘keema matar’ and ‘pilau’. It was a massive affair. So both the mother and father had their way with food. But the speciality was ‘Beans in Tomatoes’, a firm favourite. For the beans all the neighbours, virtually dozens of them, would drop in, as well as our Uncle Hafeez and Aunty Kishwar and how can we forget Chacha Chaudhry. Thankfully, my wife learnt making beans from my mother.

By the evening we were exhausted, and sick of eating so much food we stopped looking at food for a week or so. But then Christmas was spread all over Lahore. At the Burt Institute, as also at the Falettis’ there were dance dinners, where once a year we managed to dance with females. Oh, how we looked forward to that. The music was there, as was ‘Radio Ceylon’. Lahore was a city where people knew how to be happy.

Besides Christmas there were a number of almost ‘non-communal’ festivals. The ones we attended most was Mela Chiraghan – the Festival of Lights. This is a three-day festival to celebrate the Sufi saint known as Madho Lal Hussain in Baghbanpura. For those who know not Shah Hussain he was a Sufi saint-cum-poet, while his lover was Madho Lal, a Hindu youngster. Both are buried together. This fusion of faiths is celebrated with lights and kite-flying. These days the police crack down on kite-fliers. How dare people be happy they say.

But the finest and most colourful festival of Lahore is the now banned Basant. This is known as ‘Basant Panchami’ and the next one is due on February 2, 2025. The festival takes place on the fifth day of Magha, the ancient month of the sub-continent. On this day people used to wear yellow clothes to reflect the yellow flowers of the mustard plants that make the entire countryside so colourful. For those interested in its history this festival originated when the Aryans came over. Then different faiths adopted them as a festival of happiness. Having a Lahori touch food was never far away … lots of it.

On Basant in Lahore kite-flying was the festival almost everyone enjoyed. Our past prime ministers Nawaz Sharif as well as his ‘friend’ the imprisoned Imran Khan, all enjoyed this festival. Incidentally the local joke is that Imran once clean bowled Nawaz at the Gymkhana Cricket Ground, never to be forgiven. My late brother Rauf used to run on the fifth storey single-brick wall just to catch a kite. There is absolutely no doubt that this was the favourite festival of the people.

With the dearth of buses in Lahore, a massive political failure that continues, Lahore’s population found a solution by buying the world’s largest motorcycle population. With the utter failure of the police to get motorcyclists to wear helmets, especially under-aged drivers, kite strings have undoubtedly resulted in a few fatalities. Researchers say the people crossing the road on any one day equals the annual kite string victims. Imagine. Surely it is a horrid political stunt.

But the police have managed to get naïve semi-educated politicians to ban this festival of the people. But people still defy the ban. Instead of finding a solution the politicians fear a happy population more. No wonder people from Lahore are trying to run away to other places.

In the USA at Long Beach Washington is the site for the annual kite-flying festival called ‘Lahori Basant’. Lahoris have set up such Basant festivals at 12 other places there. One such festival is held at a small village in Orange County, Virginia, which is named Lahore. The same is true of England. Wherever there are Lahoris there are kites. There is also the Cambridge Kite-Flying Festival on the Meadows where once great scholars like Keynes and Russell, scientists like Stephen Hawking, Charles Darwin and poets sat. Oh it’s amazing for the food is fruit scones with strawberry jam and cream.

But the single largest festival of Lahore is that of Data Darbar, the 11th century Sufi saint Ali Hasan of Hajver, hence called Ali Hajveri. This is a three-day festival of happiness, as well as solemn prayers and food galore. Food is critical in all Lahore festivals. It is claimed to be the largest festival of South Asia and is held on the 18th of Safar, the Islamic month.

As we dwell on the festivals that promote happiness, we tend to forget that our best festivals have historic roots going back eons. Basant is one such festival which stands banned. On a humourous note, it is interesting to see it celebrated in Peshawar and Kabul as well as in Istanbul, let alone all over Indian Punjab as well as the West. People understand that happiness pays. It is the illiterate and communal extremists who just do not like people to be happy. Lahore is plagued by such rulers, especially those bowled out.

Published in Dawn, December 22nd, 2024