Favourable crime statistics will not improve police image

INTERNATIONAL crime statistics reports are usually accompanied by the warning that they are not intended to be used as a basis for comparisons between different countries. This warning is explicitly stated in Interpol’s annual reports on international crime statistics, as well as in the United Nations’ survey on international crime statistics.

But not only has one provincial police department in Pakistan used such figures for comparing the crime rates in different countries, worse still it has used these statistics to rank different countries in order of total crimes reported. According to the ranking in this compilation, Pakistan and South Asian countries in general have crime rates which are considerably lower than that of the developed countries.

The English daily which published the above compilation last week said the Sindh police department prepared the document on the basis of foreign crime figures such as the Australian police’s annual reports, England criminal statistics, FBI reports, and other internet sources. The compilation ranks a total of 18 countries in order of total crimes reported (it was not stated whether the statistics were for a particular month or a particular year).

New Zealand topped the list with a total of 12,591 crimes, Denmark second with 10,051 crimes, England and Wales third with 8,576 crimes, Scotland fourth with 8,212 crimes, Germany fifth with 8,025 crimes, Australia sixth with 6,161 crimes, US seventh with 5,375 crimes, Italy eighth with 4,272 crimes, Northern Ireland ninth with 3,722 crimes, Singapore 10th with 1,833 crimes, Malaysia 11th with 694 crimes, Thailand 12th with 464 crimes, Sri Lanka 13th with 309 crimes, Pakistan 14th with 190 crimes, India 15th with 179 crimes, Indonesia 16th with 80 crimes, Bangladesh 17th with 54 crimes, and Nepal 18th with only 44 crimes.

Reports on crime statistics by organizations such as Interpol and the United Nations elaborate in detail why such statistics should be interpreted with caution and why they should not be used at all as a basis for comparison between different countries. According to Interpol, such statistics do not take account of the differences which exist between definitions of punishable acts in different countries, the diversity of statistical methods, or the action of the police which varies from country to country. Moreover, police statistics reflect reported crimes, and this only represents a fraction of the real level.

Similarly, the United Nations in its survey of international crime statistics says experts generally regard cross-country comparisons of crime statistics as being characterized by methodological difficulties which impact upon crime reporting levels and thus, make such comparisons unreliable and misleading.

In Pakistan, for instance, many factors account for a much lower level of crime reporting than in other societies. For one thing, the police here are generally mistrusted by the population, and therefore, reporting levels are likely to be lower than in those societies where the police are regarded more highly. Fear of being victimized or being tortured by the police and the lack of accessibility to the police, especially among the poorer sections of society, combine to contribute to under reporting and thus, lower levels of crime figures.

The level of insurance coverage in a country also impacts upon crime reporting levels. Thus, another reason why common citizens here generally do not approach the police to report a crime is because of the low level of insurance coverage. In other countries with a high level of insurance coverage, citizens need to make police reports as their claims for compensation usually require such notification.

Also, the definitions of certain categories of crimes vary among countries and what is being considered as a crime in other countries may not be considered as a crime here. For example, “honour killing” is not generally considered here as premeditated or intentional murder. In fact, within the tribal tradition, honour killing is considered legitimate action. Similarly, many forms of domestic and familial violence, especially committed against women and children, are usually not considered criminal, and hence not reported as crimes.

Moreover, the social norms prevalent here strongly discourage women from filing charges of criminal assault, whereas in the developed countries such women are encouraged to come forward. Social norms aside, the existing laws here do not distinguish clearly between criminal assault on a woman and adultery.

The result is that this loophole has been misused by some legal authorities to charge women who have been criminally assaulted with adultery.

Given the social, economic and political contexts outlined above, the margin of error between reported crimes and actual number of crimes in Pakistan is likely to be larger than that which usually occurs with crime statistics elsewhere. (Under normal circumstances, crime statistics are generally known to be subject to more problems of accuracy than any other kind of official data because of errors that occur along the police recording process, the victim reporting process, etc.) Thus, the number of crimes actually reported in this country is probably far from being a true reflection of the actual number of crimes committed.

Therefore, for our police to use international crime statistics to compare the crime rates in different countries, and then give the impression that the crime rate in Pakistan is lower and hence better than other developed countries, is simply inaccurate and misleading. That this is being done is a reflection of a serious ethics problem, which is a main cause of the general inefficiency afflicting our police departments and the public sector in general.

Traders resist parking fee

ONE of the most vocal pressure groups of city traders is currently protesting against the parking fee imposed by the Tehsil Municipal Administration. It is putting out strongly-worded statements and holding protest demonstrations against the move.

No sooner did the fee collection staff become operative, the traders started hurling threats. They also warned that if the fee was not withdrawn, they would physically stop the staff from collecting it. Besides, they approached the local courts for stay orders against the operation.

The stand adopted by the traders on the issue of parking has prompted the citizens to ask why a similar position was not taken by them when a contractor was appointed without lawful authority by the District Police Officer to collect parking fee in Katchery Bazar.

The contractor collected parking fee illegally for seven months. However, none of the trader groups gave any threat or expressed resentment against it. Perhaps these traders were well aware of the police power and the fact that the facade of their strength depended on the patronage of the law enforcers.

Ironically, this pressure group had even joined hands with the contractor deputed by the DPO for collecting parking fee. Some traders reportedly had ‘financial interest’ as they were being paid a nominal share through underhanded means by the armed contractor and his men.

The order is issued by the DPO under the so-called notification (No.294/PA dated 27.02.2003) reads “in pursuance of the directions contained in Chapter-II Para 4 (Sub Section-f & g) of Police Order, 2002, Haji Qadeer Khan, caste Pathan, r/o Lucky Marwat, is hereby authorized to arrange proper parking of the vehicles in Katchery Bazaar. The local/traffic police will help him to regulate operation of parking, smooth flow of traffic and clear passage for the pedestrians.”

The provision cited by him for implementation of his order, however, does not allow recovery of parking fee. The clause under which he issued the notification simply says: “keep order and prevent obstruction on public roads and in the public streets and thoroughfares, at fairs and all others places of public resort and in the neighbourhood of and at the places of public worship; regulate and control traffic on public roads and streets”.

What is most astonishing is that a copy of the so-called notification was sent by the DPO to the city Nazim, “for information and necessary action”. But the TMA boss neither challenged the validity of the DPO’s action, nor raised question as to how an unauthorized agency or man in uniform could issue orders which were beyond his jurisdiction.

While the Nazim was, of course, not in league with the DPO in imposing the parking fee he seemed to be helpless in this matter. How ironical that the champions and drum-beaters of the local council system did not even dare to question an illegality committed by a person in uniform.

The height of irony was that the fee thus collected was not deposited in the government treasury. Nobody in the TMA, which consists of 272 members, even objected to it, much less table a motion against it, which showed the helplessness and thoughtlessness of the Nazim and TMA members.

More than that it reflects the oppressive character of the police and exposes the much trumpeted claims of the high-ups and authors of the devolution plan that they were keeping an eye on the excesses of the police and government institutions and were serious about taking action against those responsible for them.

With not a word of protest raised against the amount thus collected from the citizens, how can the people in such circumstances have a sense of security and expect that their rights would be protected?

The story of an Iranian intellectual

A FRIEND of mine hit an exciting website recently to come up with the life story of the noted Iranian intellectual, Abdolkarim Soroush. Let me share with you what the website told my friend.

It begins:

Abdolkarim Soroush was born in southern Tehran in 1945 (1324 AH). On the Islamic lunar calendar, his birthday coincided with Youm-i-Ashur and he was originally given the name Hossein. His parents were of lower middle class background and both originated from Tehran itself.

Soroush underwent his primary schooling in the Qa’imiyyeh School, in south of Tehran. After spending six years there, he began his secondary education at the Mortazavi High School, and a year later moved to the newly inaugurated Alavi High School. Then Alavi had just been established by a group of credible merchants - two men being foremost among them, namely Asghar Karbaschiyan (otherwise known as ‘Allameh’) and Reza Rouzbeh. They were both well-known and respected personalities and, in setting up Alavi, their objective was to educate individuals who were both well-equipped with the modern sciences and also possessed of religious conviction, piety and commitment to society.

During his time at Alavi, Soroush was able to acquire a sound grounding in the modern sciences as well as in matters of religion. In particular, the late Reza Rouzbeh who had been educated both at university and in the seminaries in Qum, held regular classes on Islamic law (shariat) and exegesis (tafsir).

In the latter part of the secondary education period, Soroush specialized in mathematics and graduated in this subject from high school. It was when he was in the final year of the high school that certain members of the Hujjatiyyeh Society invited a large number of students in his class to their society meetings and arranged training classes for them in order to campaign against Baha’ism. He promptly abandoned these classes shortly after his visit to the first one, as he did not find their overall atmosphere agreeable to his taste and natural disposition, nor in line with his desired activities, occupying himself instead with the reading of the

Quran and the Nahjulbalaghah.

Upon finishing high school, Soroush took part in the universities’ nation-wide entrance examinations in both physics and pharmacy. He was successful at both exams and so opted for pharmacy. After completing his degree, he spent two years in the army for the national compulsory service, and after that he set off for Bushehr to do part of his medical service, the ‘Out-of-Centre Service’, where he was director of the laboratory for food products, toiletries, and sanitary materials. Fifteen months were thus spent in Bushehr. He then returned to Tehran and began work in the laboratory for medicine control, but soon he was to leave for London for further studies.

In London, he used the first possible opportunity to enrol for an MSc course in analytical chemistry, which was the subject in which he had been specializing. It was after graduating in this subject from the University of London that he went to the Chelsea College, London, for studying the history and philosophy of science, spending the next five-and-a-half years of his life there.

During these years, confrontation between the people and the Shah’s regime was gradually taking a more serious turn, and the political gatherings of Iranians in America and Europe, and Britain in particular, were on the increase. Soroush, too, was drawn into the field.

In Britain, a group of young Muslims were active in the Muslim Youth Association (MYA) which Soroush and his friends also used. After some time, however, major differences emerged and a few African friends suggested to him an alternative venue, a certain Imam Bargah in west London, and thus the centre of activities was shifted to this new site.

The Imam Bargah proved a suitable place — a base for the gatherings of Iranian Muslim students in the Britain. Especially during the months preceding the victory of the revolution, it was an extremely crowded place. Major personalities and activists from various parts of Europe, and even from Iran, frequented and delivered speeches in this place, including the late Ayatollahs Beheshti and Motahhari. When the late Ali Shariati fled to Britain in 1977 and shortly afterwards passed away, his funeral service was held in this Imam Bargah. Thus the Imam Bargah became possessed of a history, and Soroush was honoured to have had a large share in making it so.

After the Revolution, the Imam Bargah was purchased and placed under the authority of the Iranian government. At present, it is known as ‘Kanoon-i-Tauhid’ and is run by Iranian students.

In England, Soroush’s speeches were gradually transcribed and produced in pamphlet or book form. At the beginning, he delivered a series of lectures on the subject of dialectical antagonism (Tazad-i-Dialektiki), in an attempt to curb the ever-increasing leftist influence, especially from the Mujahidin Khalq who had succeeded in winning the minds and hearts of many young activists with their Marxist ideology.

The first book by Soroush, which was published in Iran while he himself was in London, was Dialectical Antagonism, which was the product of several lectures delivered in the Imam Bargah. At the same time, he authored The Restless Nature of the World (Nahad-i-na-aram-i-jahan) which is a book about the harkat-i-johari (quintessential motion). In this book, he tries to bring out the foundations of Islamic philosophy; namely tauhid (monotheism) and ma’ad (resurrection) from the heart of harkat-i-johari and to present Molla Sardra’s thought as a firm philosophical base for these objects of belief. This particular book was viewed by both the late Mutahhari and also Imam Khomeini, and received their approval and admiration.

Want the latest news? Close your eyes and meditate

THERE has been a steady growth of TV channels in India in recent months. Contrary to conventional punditry about their profitability, both news and religious channels, we are told, are raking in the moolah. But why have separate channels for religion, one might legitimately ask, if all other channels, including the so-called newsvendors, are overflowing with matters spiritual?

From the minutely catalogued progress of the Amarnath Yatra, a tortuous pilgrimage to a Hindu shrine in Kashmir, to the live coverage of the Kumbh Mela in Nasik, running into a couple of weeks or more, these are among the religious stories carried relentlessly on the main news channels. The unfortunate stampede that killed 45 devotees in Nasik appeared sadly to be a sidebar to the main event.

Is India turning suddenly very religious or has television merely put the spotlight on a dormant tendency? Is it possible that the nouveau riche classes in post-economic reforms India are asserting their cultural identity a tad more than the rest of the world? Or is a surfeit of religion part of the new global world order, which is perhaps pushing religion as a palliative, or as an escape from its own increasingly horrendous reality?

In a multi-cultural country like India the, mushrooming of religious channels could bring its own problems. Britain is a similar cultural salad bowl. Therefore, when Mr Tony Blair’s government proposed an easing of the ban on religious organizations from owning television broadcast licenses, civil society expressed its fears. Cult-watchers opposed any move that would allow evangelical sects to extend their influence among “vulnerable people”.

But with the proliferation of satellite and digital channels extending viewers’ choice, the British government signalled that the rules could be changed. Yet it conceded that “religious content has a particular capacity to offend those with different views and opinions, or, sometimes, to exploit the susceptibilities of the vulnerable. Religious issues may also shade into matters of political controversy.” Surely India’s grinding poverty and rampant illiteracy make it a lot more vulnerable to obscurantist cults that some of these channels promote?

Let me give an example. The Asianet channel that has a niche market for news and entertainment programmes in the Malayalam speaking state of Kerala has begun giving an hour every Friday to discourses by Satya Sai Baba, an extremely popular spiritual guru. His followers straddle countries in South Asia, including Sri Lanka and Nepal and beyond. The devotees throng his meetings and the numerous temples that have been raised by his trusts, and often receive the boon of this or that miracle.

I have it from impeccable sources close to the late Sirimavo Bandaranaike that she flew in a special plane to meet Sai Baba at his southern Indian hermitage. Mrs Bandaranaike was prime minister of Sri Lanka at the time. Her toes were badly paralysed and she couldn’t walk. Herbal therapies in Kerala and acupuncture in Singapore had failed to cure her. But Sai Baba told her calmly that she would walk within 10 days. She never did. Subsequently the opposition press picked up the story and chided “the leader of a Buddhist state for dabbling in Hindu mumbo-jumbo.”

But that is not the point. The real issue is that there is neither a limit to nor any checks on what is being preached on the religious channels, and there is no space available for a fair and rational content. It would be unthinkable in India to nominate someone like Alan Bookbinder, a self-confessed agnostic running the BBC’s science department, as head of a religious channel. But this is what the BBC did recently when it appointed the 46-year-old producer to head its religious programmes section.

Mr Bookbinder sought to assuage the outraged clerics, saying: “I am not an active member of any religion, and, although I do not rule it out happening one day, I have not had any personal experience of God or of an absolute sublime being. I have a huge respect and a huge amount of appreciation and empathy for faith, and I admire and in a way I even envy people for whom faith means purpose and meaning and identity.” Two of India’s religious channels, Aastha and Sanskar, have been running neck and neck in a race to get the devout eyeballs for the last three years. Both channels, after an initial lean run, have reportedly started attracting ads steadily.

While Sadhna TV, promoted by a Delhi-based advertising group, started telecasting some months back, Ahimsa TV and Sanskriti are preparing to join the fray. And then of course there is God TV (yes, actually) with its fair share of viewers for its transmission of the gospel in English and Tamil. According to a new survey, some of these channels claim upwards of 10 per cent of the viewership in the estimated 24 million cable and satellite homes in the country that have around 150 million viewers.

While religious channels are beamed to a select audience, it is the news and current affairs channels that, when they engage with sensitive religious issues, are often found wanting in professional handling of the subject.

For example, following up on the recent blasts in Mumbai a well-known TV anchor was interviewing the city’s deputy police chief from her studio in Delhi last week. She asked him if being a Muslim, which he was, came in the way of his job of hunting and arresting the alleged culprits who also happened to be Muslims. The officer said he was a professional and as such had never allowed his religion to interfere with his work. What if he had turned around and asked the anchor if her religion interfered with her professional work while reporting on events like this?

Let’s work for child labourers

REASSURING indeed it is that quite a few people and their organizations are sensitive to the existence of the profoundly unlovely phenomenon of child labour. But, for all endeavours of such people, we have not a great deal to show in terms of systematic and scientific study of this veritable shame spread all over our society. For instance, we have yet to hear of any major city chosen for a survey of the real dimensions of this admittedly heart rending problem.

Nobody would believe that it is a simple and easy problem to tackle. Children in our culture remain a vastly neglected part of our lives. Even in relatively well-placed homes, not all children get proper care and tenderness, though scarcity of means may not always the real snag. Lack of sensitivity may be at the root of neglect of children even in otherwise well-to-do families.

At present, we are thinking of children, who simply have to work to supplement the family kitty. Even in this single category, there are so many different forms of child labour. It appears that somehow the domestic child labourer receives greater and more immediate attention than other forms of child labour in relatively bigger cities. The child working as a servant in an average home in our society would be assured of two home-cooked meals a day, handed out at more or less fixed times, and in a relatively clean environment.

Compare the state of the domestic child worker with the child labourer in the bazaar, say in an automobile workshop or in a carpenter’s or electrician’s modest establishment. This child is exposed to all manner of unwholesome features of our bazaar culture. This child works in close contact with elders (his immediate superiors), who may not be the most likable people. This child is not assured of a meal that is clean and served within any given disciplines. More often than not, he would be eating at the wayside food trolleys, drinking water such as may be available in the street, where he works.

If one has to set priorities, it is evident that one should be worried more deeply about the risk-laden circumstances in which the bazaar child labourer works and ekes out a pittance, than the child working in the environment provided by normal homes in our society. Nobody should for a moment think that pointing this difference out is meant to take the kind attention away from the plight of the domestic child labourers.

At least in one respect, it may be a shade easier to help the child working in bazaar. It can be observed that in major cities, we have more or less specialized markets. You may find a concentration of automobile workshops in one street, woodwork in another, and electricians or tailors in yet another street. In simple words, one may find the bazaar child labourers an easily identifiable presence in their dozens or even scores.

Now on to the real job. Let one team of volunteers select one bazaar for its attention where, say, twenty child labourers are employed and working. In the next step, the team may establish friendly contact with the employers and persuade them to release their child employee for just one hour, thrice a week, for a literacy team to help these children. The employers may be helped to arrive at an agreed decision about the hour they would spare their child employee for the literacy class. It should not be impossible to sell this idea to a reasonable human being even in the bazaar.

In the next phase, the team may persuade one of the employers to arrange a room for say 15 to 20 children and a chair for teacher for an hour thrice a week. Books, notebooks and pencils can be provided free to this kind of a class to sell the idea in the bazaar. It is not being extravagantly optimistic to hope that at least one or two of the bigger merchants in the bazaar may feel persuaded on their own accord to become part of this simple scheme of things.

If the volunteers make a success of this experiment in one bazaar, you cannot rule out the possibility of the neighbouring bazaar inviting such volunteers to set up this kind of venture there. One should like to hope that most of us are, after all, human enough to be happy to subscribe to such simple, down- to-earth, well-meaning and selfless service to children, who otherwise are deprived for no fault of theirs.

How good one feels in believing that essentially all of us are deep down reasonable people. In 90 per cent cases, how reasonable or otherwise one would turn out depends entirely on the quality of approach made to them. After all, some of the noblest institutions in our country, indeed all over the world and throughout human history, had very modest, and sometimes unpromising beginnings. Every long expedition began with one step, that is the first step.

Now, let us return to the domestic child labourer. The same holds good in this context too. Child labourers are to be found in relatively affluent localities and colonies of our cities. If anything, it should be easier to collect such children for similar literacy classes, not only with the sympathy but also support of their employers, presumably educated, prosperous and decent people. This is by no means an untried idea or enterprise.

Only the most laid-back sort of people would consider this kind of initiative not worth their time or money. When there is the will there is a way. One should say countless ways. It is the will that matters. The rest follows, given commitment and self-esteem.

Of ATMs that don’t work

In the last week of August a friend was as strapped for cash as most people belonging to the salaried class are. Getting off work in the evening, he headed for the automatic teller machine run by a leading national bank on Maulvi Tamizuddin Road near the PIDC roundabout. Partial to junk food, he made mouth-watering plans as he eyed an eatery nearby. He thought that he would treat himself to a succulent piece of drumstick, deep-fried in fattening batter, after drawing some money from the ATM. He joyfully inserted his card in the ATM, and punched the code number. His face fell when the ATM screen shortly flashed a message apologizing that it could not give the money because it was on the blink.

With his appetite quickened, he drove to the bank headquarters on I.I. Chundrigar Road. In the past, the ATM at the bank headquarters was a safe bet. It worked even when other ATMs were out of order. An armed guard on duty near the ATM also made it more secure than other branches. On his way to the bank headquarters, the friend spotted another fast-food restaurant where he planned to have a hearty meal afterwards. However, his sorrow knew no bounds when the ATM screen at the bank headquarters flashed the same message, politely apologizing for its inability to allow him to draw the cash.

Casting a woeful glance at the fast-food restaurant, the friend got into his car and drove home on an empty stomach. The following day, when he related his ordeal to a colleague, he was informed that other commercial banks offered not only more ATMs in the city but also better ones. For a moment, the friend was tempted to open a bank account at a commercial bank in order to be able to avail himself of more dependable ATM facilities. However, he decided that he would give his national bank another chance. The next time the ATM worked.

It takes all sorts

Last week a colleague had a very pleasant experience involving a traffic policeman. Since then, he has been insisting that one does not always have to reach for one’s wallet when one is signalled by a police officer to pull up. There are well-mannered officers in our police force who appreciate the driving skills of law-abiding citizens.

On his way to work one day, the colleague noticed that a traffic police officer was following him on his motorcycle when he turned into Rafiqui Shaheed Road from Sharea Faisal. He took a hard look at the rear-view mirror of his car and soon felt sure that the police officer was after him. He went over all the turns he had taken in his mind and was convinced that he had violated no law. He also took out a tenner from his wallet and put it in his breast pocket. After all, he was getting late for work and did not want to waste time on profitless arguments with the police officer.

Sure enough the traffic police officer signalled him to stop. The colleague complied, and stepped out of the car with his driving licence and vehicle insurance papers. However, he was taken aback when the traffic police officer saluted him. He said that he had been following the colleague for some time and had been impressed by the manner he had been driving his car, following all traffic regulations. He then shook hands with the colleague, got on his motorcycle and rode away.

Elixir of life

Man has been in search of the elixir of life since time immemorial. Cosmetics manufacturers in the West claim to have found this long-sought-after magic potion. Vitamin E, which is prescribed by doctors to provide protection against the ravages of age, is being added to skin creams employed to rejuvenate and nourish the complexion.

But what’s new about that, one may ask. It is when vitamin E disappears from the market in Karachi that you know that there is something unusual going on. A pharmacy owner recently confided to a colleague that Pakistan was becoming a cheap source of vitamin E for cosmetics manufacturers abroad. The organic substance is placed in plastic capsules, which can be concealed easily, and smuggled out of the country. The capsules can be punctured at any time and their contents poured out. And whatever may be said about the high price of medicines in the country, they are still cheaper than the price at which they sell in Europe and America.

It is quite likely that these creams may be finding their way back to our shops with fancy names — logos to use Naomi Klein’s term — and sky-high prices promising eternal youth to the local consumers. As for those with a doctor’s prescription for vitamin E, they can wait till the next lot comes into the market.

More films, please

Film-makers have made few documentaries or movies on Karachi. They have yet to train their cameras on the city in order to faithfully record how it has evolved from being a village on the Arabian Sea into the metropolis that it has become now. For the most part, they have made no serious attempt to take an artistic look at the way the city-dwellers lead their lives.

The only such film that springs to mind is Raat chali hay jhoom kay, directed by Hasan Zaidi. The film, which was made a couple of years ago, attracted kudos when it was screened at a few festivals, including the Kara Film Festival held in Karachi every year.

The story of Raat chali hai jhoom kay revolves around a scion of a well-to-do family who is educated at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The youth lives in a posh locality and runs a software house in an upmarket area. He is, thus, unaware of living conditions in low-income localities.

He strikes up a friendship with a girl who lives in a poor neighbourhood. They talk to each other on the phone. It is when he sets out to meet the girl at her place that he gets to see the seamy side of life.

Another Karachi-based film-maker, Sabiha Sumar, has made a feature film on the city. Her venture, titled Don’t ask why, won an award at a film festival in Switzerland. The movie tells the story of three independent-minded middle-class sisters who seek to break the shackles of a narrow-minded society.

It is a great pity that these two movies were never screened for the public. They were shown at film festivals where only a limited number of people watched them. But the documentary that was greatly appreciated by the viewing public was the one made by the BBC. The film focussed on the turbulent times the city lived through in the 1990s.

One still hopes that some up-and-coming film-makers will make Karachi the subject of their documentaries.

A long summer

Normally, Karachi’s hot and sweltering summer begins in April and lasts through the end of June or possibly the first week of July. Then monsoon winds transform the scene and completely change the weather. Clouds provide a cover from the sun, and the strong sea breeze blows in. This makes the weather between July and mid-September one of Karachi’s finest.

Then, while winter comes to other parts of the country from October onward, Karachi braces for its second summer. Monsoon winds stop, and the hot and dry winds from the north-west — Balochistan, to be specific — give Karachi its second taste of summer: hot and dry, with temperatures shooting into higher 30s. This lasts for well over two months, until Karachi’s usually mild winter sets in. There is no date here. Sometimes, as they say, winter comes to Karachi on the night of December 31 and goes away on the morning of January 1.

All we had this summer was power outages, oil spill, angry citizens and dead fish. It’s turning out to be a long summer indeed. — By Karachian

email: karachi_notebook@hotmail.com