Auditorium of the Jamshed Memorial Hall
Then there is the Qandeel Home School Project, through which an educated person living in a low-income neighbourhood is employed to teach 25 students in their area. “We try to bring them up to a certain level of literacy and then send them to mainstream schools,” explains Mayet. There is also a Medical Relief Fund for those who cannot afford medical treatment.
Although the Theosophical Society now finds its roots in many countries across the globe, it has historically been more at home in the subcontinent than anywhere else in the world. Soon after Russian aristocrat Helena Blavastsky – whom Mr Mayet describes as a “larger-than-life character” — founded the Society in New York in 1875, she and co-founder Henry Olcott relocated first to Bombay and then to Adyar in Chennai. It was in Adyar that they established the international headquarters of the Society in 1882.
“India was spiritually advanced,” explains Mayet. “This is why people like Blavatsky gravitated towards it. A great deal of intellectual and spiritual activity was going on there. Therefore the Theosophical Society was always assumed to be an Indian domain.”
As we walk through the library, I spot an 1893 edition of Helena Blavatsky’s The Secret Doctrine: the Synthesis of Science, Religion and Philosophy. And although I try not to judge it by its cover, its archaic binding carries a certain weight that demands I treat it like a holy book.
One of the central and most controversial concepts in theosophy is that of a master. In Jamshed Nusserwanjee: A Memorial (Karachi, 1954), Gool Minwalla, a close friend of his, quotes him as having said, “Remember the Master. If you are ever in trouble, in real trouble, He will come to help you.” She writes, “Masters are certain Adepts or Teachers, known to a few of their disciples.”
This idea of being able to contact ‘Masters of Ancient Wisdom’ or ‘Mahatmas’, who are believed to be guiding the spiritual development of mankind, has drawn much controversy. In 1884, Blavatsky’s credibility came into question when her housekeeper publicly rubbished her claim of being in touch with the Masters and accused her of fraud. The Society for Psychical Research in London backed these accusations.
There are several versions of the story depending on which side is telling it, one of which points out that the housekeeper had personal motives for attempting to destroy Blavatsky’s reputation. Either way, it did not deter Annie Besant from joining the Society in 1889 and becoming the president of its Esoteric Section (which focuses on occultism) in 1901. Nor did it dissuade Nusserwanjee from believing in the Masters.
“The original Theosophical Society was controversial,” acknowledges Mayet. “Radha Burnier, the last president of the international Theosophical Society closed down the Esoteric Section on the grounds that it is no longer relevant today. Blavatsky’s works such as The Secret Doctrine are complex and deep. They require a tremendous amount of insight and intellect to understand. I don’t think she was a fraud. There is so much we don’t know that one has to be open-minded.”
Equally controversial was Besant and her associate Charles Leadbeater’s proclamation that an Indian boy named Jiddu Krishnamurti was a potential Master or World Teacher. After being educated and trained in the ways of theosophy by Besant in the 1920s, Krishnamurti decided to part ways with the Society in 1929.
“Krishnamurti rightly broke away, otherwise the Society would have been a cult,” claims Mayet. “He argued against the need for a World Teacher and promoted spiritual freedom.”
But there were other schisms too.
“There was always a division in the Society’s hierarchy. Rudolf Steiner of the German Theosophical Society, which consisted largely of purists, broke away in 1912 on racial grounds, because the headquarters of the Society was linked to India,” explains the president of the Karachi Theosophical Society (KTS). Steiner rejected Krishnamurti’s instatement as World Teacher and went on to form the Anthroposophical Society.
Meanwhile, the Karachi Theosophical Society remains active and relevant through its educational programme, far-reaching welfare services and the revival of its theatre. At the same time, it provides an intellectually stimulating environment where new ideas can be cultivated through reflection and discussion, outside the realm of social pressures and traditional practices.
“We impart a fairly good education at a low cost with particular emphasis on making the child more creative and self-sufficient,” says Mayet. “Likewise, we are currently trying to revive the concept of affordable theatre.”
Defending the Society from criticism that it has received from some quarters for its inhospitable location on the chaotic M.A. Jinnah Road, he remarks that ordinary citizens would think twice before venturing into places such as the Arts Council, which he describes as being elitist.
“Tickets there are expensive. We, on the other hand, are located in an old part of town and within reach of people from all sections of society. Here, we want to bridge the gap between the so-called ‘old’ and ‘new’ Karachi.”
Gesturing at the orchestra of chaos playing out on the street, he tells me “This is the real Karachi.”
The writer is a freelance contributor and tweets @aliHbhutto
Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, December 11th, 2016