The Canadian High Commission turned down visa requests by all intending participants of the Fourth World Youth Congress from Pakistan citing fear that they might not return home after the 10-day event, scheduled to kick off on August 11 in Quebec.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Pakistani delegates refused visas to Canada: World Youth Congress
The Canadian High Commission turned down visa requests by all intending participants of the Fourth World Youth Congress from Pakistan citing fear that they might not return home after the 10-day event, scheduled to kick off on August 11 in Quebec.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Lanf of the "impure"
I write this with numerous apologies to those who might think I am exaggerating.
But over the years, this land has become so impure and dirty that the stench that arises from it is far awful than the decomposed body of an orphan who has died on the streets, while insensitive people pass by and throw money at him thinking he is alive and just acting to get alms.
I still remember the words that I read of an American lawyer in the Aimal Kansi case, who stood tall in a
Handing over our own countrymen to outsiders for a couple of thousand dollars and earning millions like the "enlightened" general Pervez Musharraf said in his autobiography is one thing, but giving away our sisters, daughters and mothers to infidels so they can satiate their barbarity is something that should throw us deep down the abyss of shame and humiliation.
One such sister in case is Dr Afia Siddiqui or prisoner No 650, held in Bagram jail,
We as a nation have failed badly and as a state have flopped to the extent of surpassing all yardsticks of the meaning of the word. What is the use of a country when it cannot protect your dignity, when it cannot feed your wife and children, when you can be kidnapped by your own intelligence agencies and traded for money with foreigners? And then you know that you are now at their mercy; and that no one will raise their voice for you unless, of course, you are a British, American or Australian citizen.
Time is surely an excellent judge and today I am sorry to say that perhaps the making of
Saturday, June 14, 2008
No Light At The End Of The Tunnel
Chiselling away impurities
The Russian Science and Culture Centre (Friendship House), which has been hosting a variety of cultural activities for five decades in the city, offered its premises free of cost to the sculptors for the exhibition. The group show that remained open round the week ended here on Sunday.
Four large-sized relief sculptures in fibreglass by Saqib Jamal
have one thing in common: all their figures are dancing. “The world looks to me in motion as if it has been placed on a dancing board. Everyone is running away from love, beauty and nature,” he says, describing his subject as naach. By using figures from different backgrounds, the young sculptor, a graduate of the Central Institute of Art and Craft, perhaps has tried to make the point that cultures do not make any difference when it’s about ‘the dance.’The impassive face and the one with sad expressions depicting the growing despondency in the world are put up by Saleem Raza, an NCA graduate and currently teaching the art of sculpture at the Sadequain Institute. He has given a refined look to the wood that he used to express his subject. His small sculptures are equally impressive as he has skilfully used terracotta to perfect the heart-rending figures in desperate plight.
The very emblem of declining human values is two big and three small sculptures of limbs. Using mixed media for her artwork, Kanwal Khattak Khan – through big and strong to small and weak limbs in series – epitomizes the regression of mankind. An alumna of the Arts Council of Pakistan, the young sculptor says she does not want to compromise the art for the sake of commercialism. “See, one may not like to decorate his home with this ugly face of society,” says Ms Khan while referring to her sculptures and adds “these are my true feelings and I have not compromised on them.”
Shahid Hussain, who could not attend the exhibition for personal reasons, is represented by his four sculptures of a woman. He has used white cement and mixed media.
Of the three relief sculptures in fibreglass put up by Nazia Islam, ‘Approaching the hands of a wall clock’ grasps the viewer’s attention the most. The sculpture reflects time’s fleeting nature and people running after it. Rafia Maniar put up only two sculptures, both figuring a straight-faced man. They are so aesthetically sculpted that they look deceptively simple. Through their positioning, however, they become the bearers of the artist’s observation of the world around her. The kneeling man with an impassive face depicts the slavish behaviour of our society in general.
The force of profound hard work by young sculptors does touch the heart of viewers and the curator, Shakeela Waheed, who has also taught the art to some of the young exhibitors, deserves commendation for a job well done.—HA
Graffiti speaks
No one can fix an accurate price tag on defacement of walls and bridges in this city though some people profess to see an aesthetic value in the passion for what they call an artwork. Such ‘artwork’ is rarely reported though it covers everything from toilet doodles to political graffiti on street walls, bridges and flyovers.
There are so many of them in this city that one generally ignores such squiggles but a few do catch one’s sight. For instance, the poorly written one ‘Perfume Chowk’, born a couple of years ago in Gulistan-i-Jauhar, has spread to many other parts of the city by now. The
psyche that public space is up for grabs perhaps works behind such ‘art’ potential to appear on walls.If one looks closely, one will notice all kinds of slogans from advertising catchwords to political cries sprayed or painted on the walls of public property. One such picturesque site is a short wall along the city’s main artery near Karsaz that carries a public message by traffic police perhaps. It was almost two weeks ago that some graffiti artists sneaked over the place to draw their lines and successfully managed to give it an artistic touch. Interestingly, no one at the helms of affairs has caught its notice or may be there are some more important tasks ahead.—HA
What will you do if all of a sudden you find a bomb in your car? At least you won’t sit idle to let the bomb go off so easily unless you are a suicide bomber. With this preamble, I may mention that most cars on the city roads are carrying a great risk that involves the lives of all road users.
A decade ago when the compressed natural gas was introduced in the country as a cost-effective fuel for automobiles, we all rushed to get our cars converted to the environmentally-friendly fuel system. Over the years the city witnessed a mushroom growth of CNG vehicles and gas stations.
Experts say regular examination of cylinders is a must to avoid any mishap. But it seems procrastination is our national trait. In this case too, hardly any of us bothers to get the cylinder and gas kit properly examined on a regular basis. Our daring drivers and cagey car owners conveniently ignore their responsibility about such an inspection. Perhaps we, the Karachians, are accustomed to bomb threats or we prefer to learn through hard experience.—HA
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Double one seven
Now after the years of neglect, new trains have been launched, railway stations have been given a much needed facelift, and above all e-ticketing system has been introduced, as the officials say, to cope up with the fast changing business demands. However, the picture is not all that bright, as a friend says problems start right from there as you call the well publicized railway inquiry number to obtain simple information about trains. His ordeal goes like this.
He was at his office one evening when his mother asked him to get her seat reserved in one of the trains for Khanelwal, a district in Punjab. Having no access to internet, he could not use the e-ticketing option. For information about train timings and fares, he kept dialing the number just to hold the receiver and hear the continuous monotonous bells. He left for the City Station to get the inquiry and reservation done. To his utter surprise, it wore a deserted rather scary look at night with all its lights off and windows of all counters closed. A man in civvies approached him to say that everything there gets closed at night and he better visit the station the next morning for an inquiry.
Feeling disgusted, he moved to inquire about the timings from the Cantonment Station on the gate of which he was charged ten rupees as the parking fee. Although that station looked better with all its lights on, he could not find a single staffer on duty to ask about the fares and timings except the platform’s ticket checker who did not know the exact fares. He found two policemen with cigarettes in their hands, puffing smoke in the air. When the friend asked them about a responsible officer of the railway to get the basic information, he was told to visit the assistant station master (ASM). With his tolerance level exceeding all limits, he took
brisk steps towards the office of ASM as he thought to complain about all the sufferings he had been undergoing that night. In no time, however, he found out that it was not all that easy as there was no officer on duty. He waited for him outside the office for 20 minutes until he decided to return home with a heavy heart.Just at that moment, he saw a police constable writing something in a register in the office of railway police. The friend knocked at the door and he was permitted to come in. The constable, in close to his retiring age, asked with a smiling face how he could help him. After getting all the required information about the train timings and fares and thanking the policeman, my friend with this dreadful experience decided never to buy a railway ticket what to talk of a journey by train in future.—HA