An Inward Journey to Pakistan - Part 2

Wednesday, 31 March 1999

Marwee's Lodge

8:51 PM

Islamabad




What a difference! Islamabad seems so efficient and clean. Compared to
Karachi it is so sane it is hard to believe. Toured a lot of it
yesterday. Set foot in a mosque (Shah Faisal Mosque) for the first
time in a decade. Strangely peaceful and calm feeling. I was
reverent. Zia ul-Haq (the only Pakistani president who's authority I
remember recognizing) is buried on the grounds here. Felt strangely
angry at the CIA standing at his graveside. Strange. Silly. Strange.

Northern Pakistan promises a lot more. I'm quite optimistic. I like it
here. A lot more relaxing than Karachi that is for sure. What a
strange coincidence that Aapi lives two or three houses down the
street from this lodge. Ammi and I just walked over and said hello
after 16 years of no visual contact. I still can't get over just how
orderly (Karachi residents call it boring) this city feels. Saima once
told me that Islamabad was so quiet at night that it was like being at
a morgue.

Abboo reunited with his college friend from England after 25 years.



Thursday, 1 April 1999

Daman-i-Koh

7:34 PM

Islamabad




What a spectacular view of Islamabad from up here. I can see all the
way South to the Salt Range. Wish Ammi would put the camcorder away
though. It's starting to annoy me.

Toured the major government buildings of the Presidency, Secretariat,
and the National Assembly. I felt strangely patriotic. So this is
where they make all the laws that no one follows. Still, the buildings
were more impressive to me than even the ones in Washington. It is the
capital, after all. The World Bank money has to go somewhere.

Nathiagali tomorrow (Green's Hotel, following Laura/Imran's
advice). Bhurban, day after. Then to Gilgit and beyond.



Saturday, 3 April 1999

Pearl Continental Hotel

Bhurban

11:38 PM




What a beautiful hotel in the middle of nowhere. I'm quite impressed
with this opulent and grandiose hotel nestled amongst the mountains in
Bhurban. Seems Salman Bhai was right. This was a must see. Nathiagali
was disappointing but this place makes up for it. I feel guilty having
tastes such as ones for 5-star hotels but what can I say...what feels
good feels good. And it is not the only type of accommodation that I
can appreciate. But a place and building such as this is truly a
marvel. Seems to be a honeymooners' and lovers' paradise. And I'm here
with my parents and boy-cousin. Just perfect. Two-night stay and then
to Gilgit. It's cold here. Not freezing but could use a jacket (just
like San Francisco...always a jacket at night). Nice change from the
sweltering heat of Karachi.

February in Los Angeles. There's a chill in the air. The Universal
City Walk is mundane and it's late. She's cold. But then she's always
cold. I take off my blazer and wrap her in it. "Thank you," she smiles
brightly. It's late; she has a lecture at 8 in the morning and I have
a flight back to SF at the same time. But she wants to go see "LA
Confidential." So we go. How can I ever refuse her' Clutching my arm
she hides her face during the many violent scenes. Thank God for
predictable Hollywood scripts.

Memories such as these are so fantastically painful.



Sunday, 4 April 1999

Pearl Continental Hotel

Bhurban

9:20 PM




Wonderful day. Breakfast, walk, horseback riding, tea, dinner,
ghazals. All fantastic. I'm happy to be here. Zeeshan has stories to
relay to his friends and family in Karachi. Ammi and Abboo seem to be
having a good time too. I couldn't be more pleased. This whole
Murree-Bhurban expedition was really for them to begin with. Gilgit
tomorrow. Sending the 'rents back to Karachi. They're already tired
from traveling to this hill station. The whole feeling of this trip
will change tomorrow.



Same day

Same place

2nd floor bedroom balcony

1:00 AM




Can't sleep.
This place is just so opulent and I'm feeling blue
again. I wish she was here with me. I so enjoyed going to beautiful
places with her. I wish we were here together on OUR honeymoon. I want
to make love to her.

The War Memorial Opera House. What a decadent structure. Neither of us
have been to a ballet before. But she is in my town and I have
tickets. And here we are at "Swan Lake" at the San Francisco Ballet.
On the mezzanine now. Act II. The swans assume a heart-shaped
formation. She leans close and whispers rhetorically in my ear, "Is
that not the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, Kamran?" Her lips
brush my ear. She's fascinated by beauty in its purest form. As she
squeezes my hand already in hers, I think if this isn't happiness then
it must not exist.

Presently I feel much as Von Rothbart, the evil sorcerer in the
ballet, probably did. Melancholia ebbs in my soul. I've been here
before. With Gabrielle. With Dhulsini. I know deep down. I already
know. I have known. The bitter truth. How could you do this to me,
Saima? What an irresponsible act of cruelty. I had plans. I had
dreams. Nothing can ever come to any good now.



Monday, 5 April 1999

Pakistan Navy Resthouse

Lahore

10 PM




Gilgit and the China border were not meant to be. The sole PIA flight
to Gilgit was canceled due to inclement weather (in the mountains')
from Islamabad. They say that flight is almost always canceled. The
alternative was a 24-hour Jeep trek through rickety mountain roads and
unforeseen landslides. No, thank you. I found my sense of adventure
rapidly waning. Oh well. I was so tired from the Murree/Bhurban road
trek to Islamabad Airport that I really wasn't in the mood to rough it
for another 7-10 days in the mountains of NWFP and Kashmir.

So Zeeshan and I opted for Lahore by road. Wouldn't want to repeat
this experience. Although the Korean-built motorway from Islamabad to
Lahore is impressive, the bus ride was not. Brought back my childhood
prejudices I'm ashamed to admit. Whatever happened to simple civility
in the citizenry of a country. Well...it was never there. What a riot!

This Navy Resthouse is a Godsend, however. Thank goodness for uncles
in important places. So far so good. Here I am in Saima's city of
birth. So much has taken place in this historic city and to whom does
my mind turn...Dr. Ji. I can't help but miss her. Do I dare say the
word? What would she think? Of that emotion? I don't even think she's
ever felt it. Laura has and she'd appreciate Lahore so much.



Tuesday, 6 April 1999

Pakistan Navy Resthouse

Lahore

11:34 PM




Seventeen postcards in one day. Has to be a record. Let's see how many
of them actually make it to their intended destinations.

Chughtai Museum was a moving experience. Perseverance paid off. Had it
not been for the map in Lonely Planet, I would have never found
it. What a prolific and original artist. Almost 2,500 paintings and
etchings. I have great admiration for Muhammad Abdur Rahman Chughtai,
Pakistan's greatest painter. Supposedly his lineage comes from Shah
Jehan's chief architect, the designer of the Taj Mahal. His son,
Arif, wants to sell to me some of his father's originals. Should I
buy? The Mughal eroticism (and not just in the nudes) in some of his
etchings is striking. The "Unveiled Bride" gave me a
semi-erection. The temerity of this Muslim artist. Maybe I should buy
a few originals in addition to the four reproductions I did end up
buying. Want to help Arif (an unpretentious, worldly, passionate man)
with his dream to establish a real museum to promote his father's
legacy ("...governments will come and go but the real Pakistan will
survive insha-allah."). Need to seriously consider dropping $2K on
this. Maybe I'll impress Saima with my eclectic art
acquisitions. Silly notion.

Finding the place was tough but the ordeal was well worth it. As much
as I enjoyed exploring the significantly larger Lahore Museum (bought
the Mughal miniatures for Laura at the gift shop), I found this tiny
museum more affecting.



Wednesday, 7 April 1999

Pakistan Navy Resthouse

Lahore

11:55 PM




Visited Lahore Fort and Badshahi Masjid today. The Fort was given to
Akbar when he made Lahore his capital. It is a large building with
lots of hidden places to explore. Also a good place to reflect (as if
I have any trouble with the experience of reflection). The Sheesh
Mahal and Naulakha were majestic...quintessential examples of the
profligate Mughal empire. Badshahi Masjid brought on a deep feeling of
deference which peaked at Allama Iqbal's Mausoleum. Such a tiny,
modest memorial to the man who originated the idea of an independent
Pakistan. But elegant.

Lots of shopping today. So excited that I found the two-volume set of
the Benjamin Sisters at the little music store at Fortress. I don't
care if no one shares my love for their songs. They take me back so
effectively to my childhood in Karachi where I would watch them on
TV. All three would be standing poised, slightly swaying and making
hand gestures as they sang in chorus. Even bought two cassettes of
Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan for guess who. The China silk I didn't get to
buy in Gilgit I found for a slightly higher price at Liberty. Bought 6
suit pieces in bright, vibrant colors. Should I give one to Saima? I
should definitely give one piece to Laura for I know she'd appreciate
it a lot more than S. The rest I guess I'll give to Ammi, Shaheen
Baji, and Farida Baji.

And they don't sell Ice-cream Soda in Lahore, can you believe? When I
asked for it at the restaurant, the waiter responded with a smile,
"You must be from Karachi." Offered me an alternative instead which
was admittedly pretty good: Shehzan's mango-flavored drink. Killer
chicken churgha at the Kashmiri Churgha House.



Thursday, 8 April 1999

Shalimar Gardens

Lahore

2:00 PM




Although Shalimar Gardens is an impressive place in its own right,
what I really marveled at were the tombs of Jehangir and Nur Jehan.

Arresting. Haunting. Memories I'll have for a long time. Paying off
the guard to see the dungeons beneath Nur Jehan's tomb was an
excellent idea. (Bakshish rules). It was pitch dark in the tunnels. We
carried candles down the labyrinths to reach her tomb. Ironic that her
name means "light of the world." Supposedly Jehangir and Nur Jehan's
love is unmatched in Mughal history and she, having outlived him,
designed his tomb and wrote the grievous epitaph. Tunnels connect
their two tombs, Shalimar Gardens, and Haran Minar. Practical, I
suppose, in their time. Although all blocked now.

Zeeshan's in a bad mood. I think 9 days together with a cousin he
hadn't seen in 16 years may be a bit too much. He's being very
impatient. Abandoning me the other day at the Chughtai museum was a
big hint. I think it may be time to return to Karachi.



Friday, 9 April 1999

Pakistan Navy Resthouse

Lahore

11:55 PM




The Navy driver practically drove right into
Minar-i-Pakistan. Everyone else has to park a half a mile away but our
privileged Navy pickup truck was able to barrel right across the
pristine grounds into the base of the imposing phallic
structure. Walking up the tower was interesting and view of the city
was pretty cool. But it's really not as high above the ground as I had
envisioned it as a child. Still, every country needs a giant cement
member to feel virile and mighty, I suppose (the US and France, being
case in point).

Didn't do much else today. Rested and lounged around the Resthouse
talking to military officers. I have trouble recognizing their
authority for some reason. Maybe it is because they all seem so humble
when I talk to them in English. Don't have much of a choice since I
can't speak Punjabi and most of them can't speak Urdu very
well. Mamoo's friend, the head honcho of this facility, tried to
impress me with his boring tales of hunting in Northern Pakistan. I
had more fun playing scrabble with Zeeshan. It was a nice break from
running all over town the last few days. Need to conserve my touring
energy. It's almost time to say goodbye to Pakistan anyway. Back to
Karachi tomorrow and then to the US on Sunday.

"E-R-S-A-T-Z. Double letter. Double letter. 41 points. Hah! Try and
beat that." She's so proud of herself. It's cute to watch her. The
warm breeze off the Pacific flows gently in through the cracked
window. It's a clear night and I can see the moon reflecting off the
ocean. Picture perfect weekend in La Jolla, removed from the
metropolis of San Diego. Perfect, except that is for her mood swings.
"D-I-S-D-A-I-N-F-U-L. Double letter, double letter...triple word
score. Let's see...89 points," I smile. Bad move, Kamran. She tosses
the board, tiles fly all over the place. "F__k you." She storms out,
slams the door of the beach cottage and shatters the glass panel. Such
unpredictable petulance. I couldn't help laughing.

What I wouldn't give to have her upset at me like that once
again. Even just a little...



Sunday, 11 April 1999

Somewhere above the Middle East

37,000 feet

10:15 PM




Farewell Pakistan. Touching good-byes at Feroza Phoopo's and at the
airport. I've made a few new friends I think. Throwing the 35-person
impromptu dinner at Kublai Khan last night might have helped (can't
believe everyone turned up on a half-a-day notice). The "eedee" for
the kids probably didn't hurt either. Mahvish, Farah, and
Afsheen. Some sparks with all of them. But none to light a fire with
(one's married I have to keep reminding myself). Spent a ton of money
that's for sure. Why not? Life's short.

Back to the US. It was a good trip. One I will remember for a long
time. I needed it too. Haven't forgotten Saima by any means. But have
definitely diluted her memory. (Who am I kidding?) People I've made
connections with: Zeeshan, Farah, Saba, Afsheen, Nida, Sarosh, Ijaz
Bhai, Nisar Bhai. Will I stay in touch with any of them I wonder. Will
I want to come back here again? To marry? Pakistan...why not? It is
mine, after all.