Old Neighbors And Old Memories

Friday night, I attended a party thrown by the parents of a student, who will graduate on Thursday June 9, 2005 from LAS and will soon be on his way to attend Bates College in Maine. The time of the dinner was given as 8 pm on the invitation card, but true to the Pakistani tradition; the guests started to arrive at around 9:30 pm. There was the usual social-gossip hour and before the we all started to sit down for dinner, it was nearly 10:30 pm. There was a series of speeches marking the rite d’ passage of the graduation and finally, the dinner was served around 11 pm. Then there was the pre-dinner banter and by the time, I was able to leave the dinner, it was Saturday morning.

I got home around 1 am and considering the fact that I had been up since 5 am the previous day, I was exhausted. I was tired and my exhaustion only increased, as I thought about the visit of Mani Shankar Aiyyar and his family. Needless to say, sleep was pitiful and as I was about to fall asleep, WAPDA decided to have a electricity failure. The mercury in Lahore in the last days has been hovering around the 40s and without the fan, it was too hot to sleep. Since it was already 7 am, I decided that there was no point in sleeping and I got up and showered and got dressed.

The first chore of the morning was to break from my daily routine and have a good breakfast, because I knew that given the confusion of the day, lunch would an option at the best. After the papers were read and I decided to stay in indoors as much as possible, because the temperature outside was searing and a merciless Lahore sun was baking everything under it.

Around 11 am, there was a bell and at the door was Mani Shankar’s private secretary. He had called me on my cell as I was heading to the party and I had promised him that if, I had the time, I would drop by Avari, where he was staying and meet him. He wanted to discuss the plans for the reception, but since, I was so late coming home; I had decided call him in the morning. I had to leave a message as he not answering his call, but later he called and scheduled a time to drop by Lakshmi Mansions.

After talking to him and finalizing the plans, my mother, and my neighbor and I took him to the house Mani was born in. We had a very nice and pleasant conversation with him and it was funny, because the conversation was held in a mixture of Urdu, Hindi, English and Punjabi and it was fluently understood. Apparently, it seems he was also born in what is now Pakistan and soon, the joke became that it seemed that Pakistani leaders were born in India and Indian leaders were born in Pakistan!

I think, if he had been alive, Sir Cyril Radcliffe would not have been very amused!

A few hours after his departure, the chairs and the table started to be set up and here; I must commend the people who worked tirelessly under the midday sun to get everything done in time. As they were setting up, we had to go and get the bouquets, which were to be presented to Mani and his wife. Things were confused, but even the chaos of the occasion seemed to have its own rhyme and everything was progressing as could be hoped.

I had just showered again, when around 5 pm, Yasser and Aisha showed up. Then, we decided to go down to the garden. Soon a couple of people from CID showed up and I accompanied them as they checked the bouquets for bombs. It was a very comic moment. By now, the guests were arriving, when I got a call that the Indian delegation will be delayed. I sighed, because it seemed that even the Indians were getting infected with the standard Lahore time.

Around, 6:20 pm, we could hear the sirens wailing and I could almost hear the mutter of grudges in the cars as the traffic on the Mall Road was blocked to allow the guests an unfettered access to Lakshmi Mansions. The whole caravan was preceded by cop on a motor cycle, who came in so fast that he nearly ran into the gate on the other side of the drive way. Immediately after him, were two white Mercedez Benz cars. The first person to step out was the Indian High Commissioner to Pakistan and he opened the door for Mani’s wife. It seemed Mani was so happy that he was already out of car before the protocol even realized what was happening. In the second car, were his two daughters and his sister.

Prior to their arrival, the Indian new media was already present and was interviewing the residents of Lakshmi Mansions. The arrival was quite emotional and afterwards, Mani and his family went to their old house and were in there for a long time. When everyone was back, and seated; Mani detailed the history of his family and the history of Lakshmi Mansions.

Poor Mani Shankar Aiyyar! The news media surrounded him and started to ask him questions. Mani was giving them answers between taking bites of food and sipping tea. I really marvel the people who can drink tea in this hot weather, because the very idea of it makes me uncomfortable.

Yasser and Aisha also asked him a few questions.

What was really an eye opener was the bonhomie between the Pakistani and the Indian diplomats, who had come to the reception. I drifted towards them and it turned out they were talking about the similarity of Laxshmi Mansions with a few buildings in New Delhi. The Indian diplomat asked me what I did for work and I told him that I worked at the Lahore American School, where I taught history.

Where upon, he informed me that his children were also attending the Islamabad International School. Islamabad International School used to be known as the Islamabad American School till the name was changed. Another Indian diplomat was also there said his children also went to Islamabad International School. Soon, the conversation turned to a comparative analysis of the American system of education versus the British Cambridge system of education.

In the background, there was a TV crew and soon all conversation stopped in mid-sentence, when we all heard the word "Musharraf". The Indian reporter, was talking into the camera and saying how the "people diplomacy" had over taken the official diplomacy and I think that he was correct. It seems that all the tensions are on the official level and when it comes to common people, there is only a wish to be friendly with one another.

The words of the Indian TV news reporter had an element of truth, because it seemed that the conversation was all about tracing old friends and reviving common memories of a shared past. I think that this sentiment was the defining moment of the evening, because there was no politics discussed other than by the reporters asking Mani a few questions, because most of the time, the residents of Lakshmi Mansions were talking to the Aiyyar family, it was about old friends and old memories.

It seems, from hearing the conversations that Saturday night, that we humans have a desire; a wish and a longing to revisit our places of birth and reconfirm the memories of our childhood. I am not sure, what is the real reason behind this impulse. Maybe, as we grow old and are forced to make compromises, we hark back to the memories of our childhood, because it was a period of unblemished bliss and innocence and it was a time of a carefree joy, which we all miss as we grow older and are burdened by the injustices of life.

I am a certified cynic, but even I was forced to admit defeat and acknowledge the raw emotionalism of humanity which will fight; struggle to break all chains, which deny it its sense of a common human touch. It takes one of such moments to realize the hollowness of all we take for granted and all we claim to fight for, because in the end, what matters is not the principles of state sovereignty but the indivisibility of humanity, which is based on kindness and love and care for another human being.

Getting back to the topic at hand, the colors of the evening were turning from a shade of purple to a dark mulberry and it seemed that time was approaching, when the everyone would go back to their tedium. However, before that could happen, pictures were taken; emails were exchanged and for a brief moment, when politics was removed from the equation, all that was left was a simple wish to wish only the best for another person.

By the time, the Aiyyar family had left, two hours had gone by and in a wail of police sirens, the magic of the moment had evaporated. I was tired, but I had no time to rest as I had to attend another dinner and I was soon heading to the Crow Eaters. The dinner was anti-climax because I kept playing the memories of the evening in my head and there a slightly awry thought dancing in my mind.

I was wondering all throughout the dinner, was there a reason that the our governments had created this particular climate, because deep down in their hearts they must realize fully well what would happen if the goodness of the people is allowed to express itself freely?