Years ago, while speaking to a senior class at a prestigious educational institution in Karachi, I conducted a quick survey. How many of them had visited the well-known tourist sites of the world, such as the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty or the Great Wall of China? Hands were raised and I counted them.
As would be expected, many of them had travelled abroad – almost half of them in a big class. I cannot exactly recall the tally, but numerous hands were raised for specific locations. They participated in this exercise with great excitement.
And then, I came to the point. “How many of you have been to Makli?”, I asked. Yes, three students – or were they four? – raised their hands. Obviously, it did not seem to matter much that Makli, in Thatta, is just about two hours from Karachi and a World Heritage Site designated by Unesco. It is one of the largest funerary sites in the world, covering the period from the 14th to the 18th centuries. Those of us who have been there, most probably more than once, remember the awe that it inspires.
Why am I recalling that incident and invoking the grandeur of Sindh’s archaeological wealth at this time? Well, I was reminded of that old encounter when my thoughts wandered after I had attended the launching of a book at the Arts Council on Tuesday evening.
In that sense, I have a legitimate peg to cast a glance over Sindh’s landscape and, as I said, allow my thoughts to wander. The book I am referring to, though, is a solemn exploration of what should be seen as a national crisis. That I had so many other things on my mind when I attended the function is something else.
Anyhow, the book launched on Tuesday is titled ‘The Disappearing Delta’, and it is written by Naseer Memon, who is an expert on water governance and climate-induced disasters. By way of a disclaimer, I should say that he is an old friend, and my wife Sadiqa and I have been very impressed by his expanding role in an informed debate on water, environment and climate change issues. He has served in important positions in the development sector.
The sub-title of the book is: ‘Ecological devastation and imperiled livelihoods in the Indus Delta’. It is the inaugural publication of DARAS: Data And Research Academy, Sindh, an initiative of the Sindhi Association of North America (SANA). DARAS is dedicated to “advancing informed dialogue and evidence-based advocacy on issues vital to the people, environment, heritage, and sustainable future of Sindh”. This short book, then, is solid research with a lot of data.
As book launches go, the event at the Arts Council was well attended, and the panellists’ speeches brought out the delta issues with expertise and passion. There were stories to tell and the audience was visibly moved by an alarming scenario that emerged from the proceedings. Naseer Memon summed it up by highlighting the many ways the great Indus shapes the lives of people – not just in Sindh, but across the entire country.
I would not want to paraphrase the remarks that were made because I am using the function more as a point of departure to stress the need for Karachi, as such, to integrate with the province to which it belongs. I do feel that the excitement on display at the Arts Council on Tuesday was largely motivated by the high political temperature on the question of creating new provinces and, consequently, dividing Sindh. Karachi’s intelligentsia was not very visible in that gathering.
Setting politics aside, though it is certainly of crucial importance, I have long been very conscious of the social and cultural implications of Karachi’s metaphorical distance from the rest of the province. I talked about Makli at the outset. Think of the great gift of the Indus, a river of history that has been betrayed by its people. Think of the Indus delta. It is so near Karachi and even if it is in a state of depredation, a visit to that area could be a dream for someone who is conscious of history and the ecological phenomenon of how a river of ancient civilisations is now gasping for breath.
Let me quote some words of Dr Maqbool Halepota, current president of SANA, from the book’s foreword: “The Indus Delta is one of humanity’s natural inheritances. Its future will ultimately reflect not only the choices made within its watershed, but also our collective commitment to sustainable development, environmental justice, and the responsible stewardship of our shared planet”.
I know it is not easy to contend with the politics played out in Sindh, especially the passions aroused by its ethnic, linguistic, and urban-rural divides. We live with many unbearable memories. Still, some causes belong to all citizens of the province in equal measure. Like the campaign to somehow reverse the decline of the Indus delta.
One does not know how the politicians will play their hand and who will pull which strings. We may get emotionally involved with this or that political party or ideology but the deal will finally be made behind closed doors. What should happen in the open should be of more interest to the concerned citizens of the province.
Many things make Karachi a rather unique urban entity, one of which is the fact that it is not organically plugged into its rural environs. There are hardly any two-way flows in a meaningful relationship. That is how Makli and the waterless channels of the Indus delta can be faraway places.
What I am trying to say may be exemplified by Lahore’s constant, living relationship with the many towns and villages that surround the city. Again, Karachi lives with its many barriers. It will have to remove some to become a little bit more liveable.
The writer is a senior journalist. He can be reached at: [email protected]
