Gender and Sexuality Performances in Pashto Music

Last year, I took a course called Gender, Music, and Sexuality. One of my motives for taking the course was so that I can better understand the Pashto music and film industries (and the focus of the class was not just one race or ethnic group: it was an in-depth analysis of the roles that our notions of sexuality and gender play in music/film all across the world, with examples from various countries of all the continents). When the time came for us students to discuss our ideas for potential term papers with our professor, I went to her office and told her that the idea I had in mind was a bit embarrassing and that the examples I will give her and in my paper when writing about are going to be utterly mortifying. I told her how tired and sick I was of the way women (and, sometimes, men) perform in Pashto musics, often to beautiful and meaningful lyrics, and that I want to understand exactly what is going on in the minds of the performers, the directors, and everyone else involved in the production of our (Pashtuns’) music.

My professor was (is) a prominent scholar in her field (Ethnomusicology) as well as in some others (Gender Studies, Middle Eastern Studies) and a beautiful human who taught me to think positively, to never assume the worst or negative of anyone or anything until I have fully understood them, to always try to look at things from multiple perspectives no matter how offending they might be, to never come to a conclusion until I had considered various possibilities. And so I knew that she wouldn’t let me down in instilling in me a different, new, another understanding of the one thing that bothered me most about Pashtuns. And she did—and I’m so grateful to her.

The paper is over 15 pages long so cannot be shared here in its completion, but here’s a link to the outline of the paper, and below, I will share some excerpts from it. My purpose is not so that we will laud the performers of our music; such thinking is beyond my interest. But I want us to at least acknowledge that there’s something deeper, more complex going on here than most of us imagine. I also hope that it will encourage others, particularly those with Music and/or Gender Studies interests, to contribute to studies on Pashto music, the tension between practice and ideals in the Pashtun society, and the roles of the performers. It is precisely because of the extreme lack of studies on this issue that I opted to write on our music videos rather than on music in general, for Pashto music, its performances, and its lyrics are another excellent research opportunity for those interested.

Introduction

Two years ago in an online Pashtun discussion forum, some members suggested that we have a Pashtun version of American Idol, only that we would be reciting the Qur’an, not signing. I liked the idea and expressed a desire to participate in it. The male member who had initiated the request said that, no, that would be unacceptable because I am a woman and Islam forbids women from allowing their voice to be heard by non-related men, and the forum is public, which meant that everyone would be able to hear my voice; hence, the competition was open only to males. Virtually all of the other participants in the discussion agreed with the male member because he used Islamic sources to support his argument, which was that the woman’s voice is considered aurah, or something private that has the power to attract a man’s attention and therefore lead to fitna, or social chaos. After weeks of debate, the competition did not take place because I insisted on participating, and the male member along with others did not wish to be associated with an un-Islamic event on a community that claims to be Pashtun and hence Muslim.

I narrate this anecdote here for two important reasons. The first is that it shows the importance of religion in the Pashtun society, particularly when it comes to women’s conduct and gender relations, and the second is that it explicitly sexualizes the woman’s voice, presenting it—and indeed the woman’s quintessence—as something private that must not be made available to the public. Yet, men’s voice is not sexualized because it is not considered an object of attraction. It is therefore fascinating that Pashto music videos, the subject of this study, do not seem to perceive gender and sexuality the same way. 

The Roles of Music

Music has been used throughout history for various purposes, among which are for the music producers and musicians and others involved to express political, religious, social views; to assert a people’s identity; to depict certain situations of a people or culture, such as national tragedies; and to raise awareness of a certain cultural quality. Hence, music has no one role or objective but a variety of them. Particularly in Pashto music, the social and political predicament of the Pashtuns are strongly depicted in songs like “Zamung pa kale ke shar ma jorawai” (Don’t bring violence to this global village of ours), sung by Irfan Khan, or “Nan Pekhawar Jareegi” (Peshawar is in tears today); powerful calls for unity are often made through music in songs that endeavor to eliminate tribal affiliations by gathering all Pashtuns under the flag of ethnicity, such as a popular song by Musharraf Bangash in which he names all of the different Pashtun tribes and makes a claim to fame of the Pashtuns as one nation, rather than as individual tribes; the role and position of women in the Pashtun society is well portrayed in many songs, among the most popular being “Bibi Sheriney” (Sweet Lady), sung by Gulzar Alam; a feeling of patriotism and an appreciation for identity is instilled in the minds and hearts of Pashtun audiences through music, as in the song “Ey Zama Watana” (O’ my beloved land!); ideas of gender roles as perceived by the society are expressed in other songs, such as in “Peghley hayadaare har zalmay ye dak da nang” (The female youth of our nation is full of modesty, the male youth full of honor), although the main theme of this song is not of gender/sexuality but instead on Pashtuns’ pride for their nation. It is this last group of Pashto music, particularly that of gender appropriation through music, in addition to the performers’ expression of sexuality, that I aim to discuss here.
 
As the title of the last mentioned song suggests, the two sexes are identified as females and males, and a certain sense of recognition is attached to them: the Pashtun women are expected to be modest, while the Pashtun men are expected to be honorable. Women are thus associated with modesty, which mainly points to clothing as well as public and private behavior, and the men with nang, or honor, and they work together such that the women maintain their haya, or modesty, so as not to offend the men’s nang.  Arguably, this places all the responsibility of honor on the hayadaara, or modest, female, which is true for the understanding of gender roles in the Pashtun society. [...]

Gender Construction through Music 

Popular Pashto music videos do not support this idea of the hayadaara Pashtun woman and the honorable Pashtun man, although the latter cannot be as easily discerned as the former because it is not the man’s decorum that is scrutinized, and the man is not identified by his behavior—the woman is. [Below, it by performer and dancer, I am often referring to the dancers to Pashto music, not the singers.] Yet, the women in Pashto music videos actively contest these gender norms and expectations in the society. They defy normative moral standards by flaunting their feminine sexuality and appearing to be sexually loose, unlike the ordinary Pashtun woman, who is to suppress her sexuality in public and express it only in front of her husband. Yet, like performers of many other regions, including early Western Europe, these women resist culturally established norms to create space for themselves in music and dance; they are fully aware of the consequences of their performances, but they continue to assert themselves as performers in musical spaces. Because the space belongs to them and is created by them, they also have the opportunity and the freedom to express their sexuality in a way that they are not permitted to do so outside of this space. The female entertainer in these videos is called dama (plural, damaaney), the male dam (plural, damaan). However, because this term is derogatory and reduces these performers, especially the women, to merely sex objects used for pleasure alone, I will avoid referring to them as such throughout this study because I propose that there performance, no matter how sexual, be interpreted in multiple ways, not just in terms of pleasure.

 The Pashtun women in Pashto music videos are socially referred to as damaaney, as mentioned above, and may be compared to the Indian nachni (discussed by Carol Babiracki in “What’s the difference?” In Shadows in the field: New Perspectives for Fieldwork in Ethnomusicology, 1997); the Indonesian ronggeng (Henry Speller, “Negotiating masculinity in an Indonesian pop song: Doel Sumbeng’s ‘Ronggeng.’” In Oh boy! Masculinities and Pop Music, 2007); and the dancing girls of Hira Mandi (Louise Brown, The Dancing Girls of Lahore: Selling Love and Hoarding Dreams in Pakistan's Ancient Pleasure District, 2005). For example, like the nachni, the female Pashtun performer is an important part of Pashtun weddings: she is invited to entertain men in their hujra, which is a traditional male-only space, even though she is degraded and looked down upon for her act by both these men as well as everyone else in the society. The Indonesian ronggeng is not just a performer of music and dance, but she also engages in sexual acts with her male clients/audiences; the Pashtun performer, too, often extends her services to sexual acts with her male hosts, including when she is invited to their homes to dance at weddings (Charles Lindholm, Generosity and Jealousy: The Swat Pukhtuns of Northern Pakistan, 1982). And, like the dancing girl of a Lahore brothel who manages what she calls her shame very carefully, shame being associated with sexual activities, contacts with men, and failure to control and discipline the body, the Pashtun performer dresses inappropriately according to the social expectations (usually, this means skin-tight clothing, and rarely do her clothes expose her skin), she is too friendly with men, and she moves her body in a very lax manner; she therefore brings shame to her family and society, reducing her chances of marriage with a “decent, respectable” man.

[…]     

Identity Formation through Music: Understanding the Performers’ Role

The public behavior and the performance of these Pashtun women performers play a pivotal role in identity formation among Pashtun women in the society. The identities of these two groups of women—one being the entertainers and the other being the ordinary women—are contrasted against each other such that Pashtun men who enjoy the performers warn their own female family members against becoming like them: these performers are not to be seen as role models for the female youth, and the young daughters will not grow up to be like the women on TV. Hence, the ideal Pashtun woman is virtually everything that the performer is not.

But perhaps the most likely way to understand the performer’s role is to see it as a response to the suppression of sexuality in their society, which also points to the responses of their male audiences. [...]

While the women’s performance may be understood as providing a window into Pashtun notions of gender, this is not entirely so, as it assumes that the role of music should be or is limited to portraying certain cultural behaviors and norms. However, as previously noted, music can be interpreted in various possible ways, which include shaping people’s identities and transcending the society’s limitations. The former reading of music, that of shaping people’s identities, can be viewed in the context of this study’s performers as: they reassert traditional notions of Pashtunness, of what it means to be Pashtun, by reminding their viewers that what is being shown is un-Pashtun, thereby defining what it means to be Pashtun and how to avoid being un-Pashtun. The latter reading of the role of music also offers a different viewpoint: these women are in fact empowering themselves by transcending the limitations that the society has established for each gender. They willingly cross the boundaries that the society has set for them because, perhaps, they realize that women's bodies, and hence their sexualities, have been under social control for a long time. They are aware of the consequences of a woman’s choice to enter the public music world where her body is viewed as the embodiment of seductive power and the entertainment field as "extremely sensitive" for women to work in due to religious ideas about female sexuality, and, yet these women offer their bodies for pleasure to the public anyway. [...]

The Audience

As pointed out earlier, the female performer who acts in these music videos also serves as an entertainer in Pashto weddings, tending only to men’s desires while the women, who are outside of the hujra in the larger home space, tend to have “ordinary” girls and women dancing to them. As this suggests, their audience is primarily men, which can be seen in almost all Pashto music videos, particularly live performances. In fact, it is not just the audience of the dancers who is almost all male but so is the audience of the singers. A few examples of both are presented below.

“Che masti wey ao zwani” (If only youth and enjoyment were eternal), where the performer dances to a group of four men, one of whom is sitting in the  center and is depicted as her main audience—and there are no women.
“Marhaba, Marhaba” (Welcome, welcome), an example of a music video that not only illustrates the point of the dancer’s audience but also of her sexual, seductive role contrasted against that of her male partner’s.
“Maa la chal na razi” (I don’t know how)—few women, the rest all men.
 “Zama charsi janana” (O’ my addicted beloved), perhaps the best example of an almost entirely male audience; the audience can be seen from 01:59-02:10 as all men.

The issue of audience raises important questions of class: for live performances, including those in weddings, the audience must be able to afford to attend or host the performance. The women who do attend these performances tend to be upper-class, as can be told from the way they wear their dupattas, or veils around their shoulders or necks. Few have their faces covered, and most have their hair showing. Generally, the showing of the hair is associated with liberalness and face-covering with conservatism or traditionalness. In many cases also, the audience includes a large number of other singer and performers. Hence, it seems that particularly lower-class women are excluded from the audience. [...]

Displayed Gender Differences in Musical Performances 

Gender differences are created when different qualities and roles are attributed to individuals based on their sex. For instance, in terms of looks, the male performer in most musics, including  Pashto music, does not bear the pressure of being aesthetically appealing to his audience, but the woman does. In fact, because the society prefers light-skinned women to dark-skinned ones, she must look white in order to appeal to her audience. Moreover, the woman tends to have a more sexual role, such as that of a seductress, and does most of the dancing and performing, whereas the man does not; he merely seems to be watching the woman perform and every once in a while, dance with her. Additionally, the only role assigned to the woman is singing or dancing (she seldom does both): she does not tend to play any instrument [this does not take into consideration folk musicians, who are an important and separate category of their own], while there are many male Pashtun musicians who both sing and play an instrument, among them Sardar Ali Takkar and Gulzar Alam. […]

Conclusions

There appears to be tension between reality and the ideals of the Pashtun society. Somehow, it seems to be an accepted idea that performers are “expected” to transgress, as though it is their job to transcend social boundaries; they do it, and their audiences enjoy it. The stage is their space and opportunity to do something they are not socially permitted to do otherwise. Since they are the instigators of what is deemed inappropriate behavior, they do not represent the ordinary Pashtun girl; they instead represent the girls who do not “exist” in the society, the girl who must not be. The challenge to the assumption that Pashto music videos must represent authentic Pashtun culture remains: if that must be so, then what and who encourages the produces to continue making the sort of music videos that they do? Why are these very popular among Pashtuns if they are not an accurate portrayal of the society? On the contrary, the facts that they are popular and continue being produced suggests that there is an eager audience waiting to rely on them for entertainment. 
[…]

Qrratugai is an Islamic Studies student with emphasis on gender relations in Islamic law. She tweets at twitter.com/qrratugai and blogs at http://orbala.blogspot.com.

Amir Hamza Shinwari: The unfinished story

Editors note: this article was written following the attack on the tomb of Amir Hamza Shinwari 

Baheer: three currents of Hamza Shinwari’s poetry —

                                                                                            by  M Taqi

picture via wikipedia

“Insaan yem, da fitrat pa taqazo ke na raazam,                  

Shaheen yem, da karghano pa panjo ke na raazam,

Yaw sind yem da sehba, da perzonay waham josh,

Laikin za da kam-zarfo pa kaaso ke na raazam” 

                                  — Amir Hamza Khan Shinwari.

(I am a human whom even the nature cannot restrain,

Like a falcon I am; the paws of crows cannot reach me,

I am an ocean of wine (of love and knowledge), in high tide of passion,

Of which, a drop cannot the goblets of these upstarts hold.)

Though in vain this time, the crows did try to desecrate the mausoleum of one of the finest Pashtuns that ever lived. Last week, terrorists carried out an attack — fourth in two years — on the final resting place of the greatest Pashto ghazal poet, Amir Hamza Khan Shinwari — known affectionately as Hamza Baba — in Landi Kotal, Khyber Agency. Hats off to the shrine’s caretaker Muhammad Ikram and the khasadar militiamen who refused to vacate the shrine and put up resistance, forcing the militants to flee.

Adherents of the ideology of pure hate have attacked an apostle of pure love yet again, as they have done at the shrines of Sufis like Haji Sahib Turangzai, Rehman Baba, Pir Baba, Baba Farid Ganj-e-Shakar, Abdullah Shah Ghazi and Data Ganj Bakhsh, all over Pakistan. However, there are many who still insist on a dialogue with the peddlers of absolute poison that al Qaeda and its local affiliates are. There is a lot to be said about this dialogue. But today I only wish to remember Hamza Baba for the poised, peaceful, passionate, Pashtun Sufi that he was.

I wondered how the Persians would respond if Hafiz Shirazi’s tomb was vandalised or how the Turks would react to sacrilege of Jalaluddin Rumi’s grave, while reading Hamza Baba’s verses — a work at par with the greats of Persian Sufi poetry. The Persian language, especially its ghazal (love sonnet) form and Sufism have a unique kinship but conceptualising the mystical worldview from a native perspective and formulating it in chaste Pashto had perhaps not been attempted before Hamza Baba.

Sufi orders and indeed Sufi poets like Mirza Khan Ansari of the Roshaniyya order, Kazim Khan Shaida and, of course, Rahman Baba had existed in Pashtun society long before Hamza Baba. In fact, Hamza Baba recognised Ansari and Rahman Baba as his poetic antecedents. However, as Professor Yar Muhammad Maghmoom, has noted in his monograph ‘Hamza’s ghazal and Pashtun mysticism’, Ansari and Shaida had heavy Persian influence on their work. Contrarily, Hamza Baba’s mystic motifs as well as his poetic devices and tools are rooted deeply, yet effortlessly, in the Pashtun lands and Pashtunwali (the Pashtun culture and code of conduct).

Hamza Baba had not made a conscious effort to de-Persianise his work but his thought and creative output are so indigenous that even the use of short poetic meter prevalent in Persian and an occasional Arabic or Persian phrase does not appear to be a transplant. Hamza Baba’s metaphor, allegory and diction are nuanced pointers towards his Pashtun nationalism. Just like his mysticism was not imported, his nationalism too has arisen from the mountains of Khyber and the plains of Peshawar. Unlike the progressive poetry of Pashtun nationalists like Ghani Khan and Ajmal Khattak, and even Allama Iqbal and Faiz, Hamza Baba’s verse is free of Marxist or other European influences. It is perhaps this originality of thought and language that puts him in the league of Hafiz, Saadi, Rumi and Jami.

Three intertwined key currents — or ‘Baheer’, as he has titled one of his books — stand out in Hamza Baba’s poetry, i.e. devotion to ghazal, Pashtunwali and mysticism. He developed his dialectic around the romanticism, figures, forms and norms of Pashtun society, which he deploys to resolve the dichotomy faced by a mystic in pursuit of wahdat-al-wajud (Unity of Being). He says:

“Ta ka kha Pashtun shuay no insan ba shay,

Biya ka kha insaan shuay, Musalman ba shay.”

(First be a good Pashtun and you shall become a good human being,

And only when you become a good human being, will you become a good Muslim.)

Interestingly, these currents flow from and merge back into the person of his Chishti Sufi master, Syed Sattar Shah, known in Peshawar as Badshah Jan. Syed Sattar Shah was the son of Syed Burhan Shah and had moved to Peshawar from Hazara and lived inside the Dabgari Gate of the old walled-city. Hamza Baba was born and raised in Lawargi (Landi Kotal) but his family owned a house in Mohallah Sakhi Shah-e-Mardan (named after a shrine dedicated to Hazrat Ali Murtaza RA) inside Barizqan (popularly but inaccurately called Bayriskay) Gate, a short walk away from Badshah Jan’s residence.

Hamza Baba used to write poetry in Urdu but Badshah Jan, who himself composed poetry under pen-name ‘bay-nawa’ (voiceless), instructed him to write his verse in Pashto and ordered another of his disciples, Rafiq Shinwari — a musician — to compose and sing this verse. Hamza Baba was not really happy with the marching orders but complied and there was no looking back for him. He came to be known as the father of the Pashto ghazal (baba-e-ghazal) a title in which he took great pride and his verses to this effect are well known. Perhaps less known is his humility as a Chishti who was devoted to his Sheikh and attributed this success to Badshah Jan. In a ghazal written at the shrine of his master, he says:

“Pardah-pokh wo cheh “Sattar” wo da aiboono,

Cheh da zarroono Badshah Jan wo, haghah da wo,

Da Hamza da gado-wado wainagano

Pa rishtia cheh qadardan wo, hagha da wo.”

(Sattar — he who covers up one’s lapses — was he,

If there was a Badshah (king) of hearts — it was he,

Who could understand my gibberish?

But one who appreciated it, was he.)

Hamza Baba was a polymath: a poet, writer, dramatist, humorist, lyricist, musician, film-writer, broadcaster, translator but above all a humanist. If Khushal Khan Khattak was the warrior poet (sahib-e-saif-o-qalam), Hamza Baba carried pen in one hand and the candle of love in the other, and that too in a manner befitting of an unassuming Chishti saint with prowess over both knowledge and modesty (sahib-e-ilm-o-hilm).

A column cannot begin to define even one facet of this multidimensional Pashtun prodigy and in Hamza Baba’s words:

“Maa Hamza neemah ke khabarah prekhwa,

Neema ba biya sta pa ratlah wayamah.”

(I will leave my talk unfinished; we shall conclude upon your return.)

The writer can be reached at mazdaki@me.com. He tweets at http://twitter.com/mazdaki

The original version of this article was published by the Daily Times of Pakistan on Thursday, July 28, 2011

My Hero: Safwat Ghayur

Postcard from Delhi: Aneela Babar tells her child the story of her hero Safwat Ghayur 

by Aneela Z. Babar

Dear Child,

Three days into the month had me waking up one night in tears. A long time believer in signs and dreams I spent some time calling up your father cautioning him to be careful in the coming days. I was still not restful and woke you up a couple of times in the night as I paced about the room, praying for mercy. In my selfishness I feared the Purvey of the Horrors To Come to visit only my boys. I never imagined that my sister of the heart who as a child would finish that offensive mug of milk for me would now put her lips to the poisoned cup of pain for us as well. I am glad we were here in Pakistan for this my son, and that at some level you  too absorbed some semblance of what service to the nation beyond the call of duty means. That you could register the different colours of love, of valor, of courage, of facing pain with dignity. You were in the presence of a very brave woman that was generous with her compassion and patience. At a time when I raged and ranted (the tears were yet to come) it was only the touch of her cool hand in mine that reminded me how very blessed I am to have her and hers in my life. In the years to come you will hear many stories of a very brave man who smiled his ways into all our lives. He was our hero, now he will be yours. His story is not over, he was a most unusual person for our times and our world, I wait to see how the next chapter unfolds.

 Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai.

Dekhna hai zor kitna baazuay qaatil mein hai

Karta nahin kyun doosra kuch baat cheet,

                             Dekhta hun main jise voh chup teri mehfil mein hai 

Aye shaheed-e-mulk-o-millat main tere oopar nisaar,

Ab teri himmat ka charcha ghair ki mehfil mein hai

Sarfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hai.

 The desire for sacrifice is now in our hearts

We shall now see what strength there is in the boughs of the enemy.

O country, Why does no other speak?

Whoever I see, is gathered quiet in your party...

O martyr of country, of nation, I submit myself to thee

For yet even the unacquainted speaks of thy courage

The desire for struggle is in our hearts

We shall now see what strength there is in the boughs of the enemies.

When the time comes, we shall show thee, O heaven

For why should we tell thee now, what lurks in our hearts? 

Though I could have also played around with another famous dialogue from the film

Safwat Ghayur ke dushman ka sirf ek hi kasoor hai ......ki woh Safwat ka dushman hai! ...

    You can charge Safwat's enemy of but one crime...that he is Safwat's enemy

but you get the gist:

(July 14, 1959 – August 4, 2010) 

But going back to the enigmatic Mr Ghayur. Yes, I don’t think his fan group was remiss in placing him on a pedestal, not for him the human vices of sloth, pride, vulgarity, boorish behaviour or pettiness and laziness as someone who was born to such good fortune as him could have succumbed to—somehow this suave French speaking, globetrotting, head strong, incorruptible law enforcer reminded you of the heroes from popular cinema who would battle baddies, dodge bullets, with not a crease in their well stitched suit – and here I am leaning towards a certain Secret Service Agent and not the Jat, for our hero preferred to deliver his killer lines at a lower decibel. 

Interesting aside: Mr Ghayur has been to the local cinemas, well at least for one Pushto movie when he chaperoned a visiting friend. The said friend was pretty scandalized with our domestic fare and declared it made French erotica seem like a training manual by the Taleban for virtuous behaviour (or words to that effect). But I guess this excursion of his, gives us just cause to add the line “he was a patron of the local arts” to his resume, lest he sounds too pucca saheb for you.

Yes, yes nothing got to our debonair man in uniform, not battling the thugs, nor sweating out in the thanas, and the various encounters he found himself in--- or made sure that he made a detour to “find" himself in. Yes, not even the most hair raising adventure of all --that has people tearing out their hair ,  running out of the house in their pyjamas. Raising two under-twos!! Yup, he did that too. Unfazed, and as quite the dapper gentleman.

I first encountered this gentleman as the paramapada of an elaborate game of snakes and ladders a very charming young woman outlined on the dining table for her elder sister. That the young woman went on to marry the hero of our tale is- well -another story. She is a bit vague with the details, but how fortuitous for someone who answered  a "police officer" (when asked what she wanted to be when she grew up), to marry one when she ended up  in medical school instead.

But the same person who introduced us to Hotel California, played Everyone Loves Kung fu Fighting in a band in Bangkok. He had friends who set up restaurants in Islamabad THAT WERE OPEN AT 9 pm (which was really cool for a city where you walked on the wild side if you spoke to someone in a different BPS grade than you),  who drove off with his new bride in a car come rukhsati time, and a very nice car I should add! ALONE! gasp!(with no sisters, cousins, and the ubiquitous five year old niece who will tug at the bride’s veil for the entire journey) in the process scandalizing all the old aunts and well the not so old amongst us as well.

He was also the good son who abandoned a really good first job offer (yes teaching karate is a pretty fine job) to accompany his family back to Pakistan, who might have dreamed of joining the foreign service (and would have been very good at it ) but chose instead the police so he could be around when his family needed him –and in turn took care of a family far far larger than his own. Ok, fine! maybe, we should go ahead and call him the desi hero after all!

I don’t think I am the stage in my life when I can find meaning in the things that happen to our heroes—but I do find comfort and a lot of laughter in the image of the foolish young man who goes up there believing himself to be a martyr with all the 70 houris and rivers of milk and honey it brings and encounters Safwat Ghayur instead. 

Yes, perhaps there is some divine justice after all...

Aneela Z. Babar (Pindi/Delhi/Melbourne). When she is not busy being the bane of her three year old's existence, Babar works on gender, culture, religion and militarism (with a heady dose of Bollywood trivia).


ed note: some months ago, a man was stopped by the police at a crossing in Peshawar. ' Why can't I pass?' Sorry Sir he replied his boss was passing, his boss you see was a brave man you see and the target of the Taliban. 'A brave man? You only had one brave boss his name was Safwat Ghayur and he is dead!'
RIP Safwat Ghayur and all those who have fought the good fight

An Afghan tale

In light of recent events in Punjab, the writer looks back at the story of Amir of Afghanistan and the Sahibzada 

The Amir and the Sahibzada

by Munir Khan


On the 16th of October 1901 a great Jirga had been assembled in the city of Kabul, Afghanistan. Representatives of all the various Pashtun tribes had travelled to Kabul to attend the Loya Jirga (great gathering of tribes) at which the coronation of the new King of Afghanistan was to take place. The death of Amir Abdur Rehman, who had been a cruel and despotic tyrant was an occasion for Afghans to select a new Amir who would supposedly lead Afghans into the 20th century and away from the medieval reign of Amir Abdur Rehman who had been described as the “Absolute Amir” by British engineer Frank Martin in his book of that name.

Hundreds of Kabul’s citizenry, along with the many Khan’s and tribal chiefs from all over the provinces of Afghanistan had gathered at the Jaamia Masjid where the coronation ceremony was to take place. During his crowing ceremony, the Imam of the Jamia Mosque, wrapped a head cloth of white muslin around Habibullah's head, presented him with a copy of the Quran, some relics of the Prophet, and a flag from the tomb of an Afghan saint. All this was to symbolise the ruler's religious obligations as well as the divine source of his power.

The Chief Mullah who wound the cloth around the Amir’s head and thus crowned him the new King of Afghanistan was a highly revered Muslim religious figure by the name of Sahibzada Abdul Latif. He had been given the singular honour of being the one who would perform the ceremony by virtue of his piety, honesty, vast religious knowledge and the respect that he was held in throughout Afghanistan.

Such was his fame and reputation for probity that when the British & Afghan governments decided to demarcate the Afghan/India border in 1893, Sahibzada Abdul Latif was chosen as a representative of the Afghan delegation along with Sardar Shirin Dil Khan. Sir Mortimer Durand led from the British side and the border was agreed between the two governments, and to this day is known as the Durand line. 

Sahibzada Abdul Latif came from the village of Syed Gah that nestled along the banks of the River Shawal in Khost province. His family had vast ancestral lands amounting to many hundreds of acres that comprised of orchards full of fruit trees, and various agricultural crops. In addition to being a religious divine he was a man of great substance and held the allegiance of many local Afghans in the area surrounding Syed Gah. He was a member of a Syed family. His father, Maulana Syed Mohammad Sharif was a descendent of the famous Muslim saint Data Gunj Bakhsh Syed. During the reign of Emperor Aurangzeb a famous descendant of the family settled in Saharanpur and then another prominent member of the family, Syed Saeed Ahmad, went to Khost in Afghanistan for educational purposes and eventually decided to settle there.

Before he wound the cloth around the Amir’s head and swear his own allegiance to the new Amir ,Sahibzada Sahibs told the Amir “I will swear allegiance to you only on condition that you will never act contrary to Sharia” .Upon the Amir signifying his assent , Sahibzada Abdul Latif completed the task of winding the coronation cloth around the Amir’s head, and thus legitimised his coronation as Amir of Afghanistan.

Afghanistan has been in the news not just in the last few years but in fact has been at the heart of imperial power politics for over 100 yrs. The British novelist Rudyard Kipling referred to it as the “Great Game”, waged between Imperial Russia and the British Empire. Afghanistan was the gateway to India which was the “jewel in the crown” of the mighty British Empire and the British were fearful that if Russia gained a foothold in Afghanistan it would give Russia a platform to launch an assault on the heart of the Empire.

The Amir’s of Afghanistan played the great game well and conspired with both British & Russian agents, whilst at the same time ensuring that they were secure in their own position and able to repulse any attack upon the sovereignty of Afghanistan by either the British or the Russians. But to be able to do this they required the tribes of Afghanistan to rise up and unite and fight at the call of the Amir. But the fiercely independent tribes were not likely to rally simply upon the call of the Amir. For that to happen, another essential unifying ingredient was required - Islam.

The Amir knew that to remain in power he needed to be able to use the rallying cry of Islam and the call to Jihad in particular as a unifying factor. So whilst he was not known for his religious piety, he knew how to exploit the name of Islam  and Jihad in particular for his own political purposes. The raising of tribal Lashkar’s (war party), at the Amir’s behest without the call of Jihad was impossible, and any attempt to stifle the call of Jihad was a strike to the very heart of the Amir’s power.

At about this time Mirza Ghulam Ahmad of Qadian,India had started a revivalist movement that was to be known as Ahmadiyyat, in India that had caught the imagination of many in India . Of his many claims he also claimed that the days of violent 'Jihad' had come to an end, and for Muslims he advocated the Jihad i Akbar (reformation of self) as the primary Jihad as opposed to any other violent Jihad, and called for Muslims to adopt the Jihad of the pen and a return to an age of learning & reflection.

 But the message as preached by Mirza Ghulam Ahmad had swept throughout India and had reached the ears of Sahibzada Abdul Latif in Afghanistan who had been studying the message of Ahmadiyyat. He had been given a copy of the Mirza Sahib's book “Aeena i Kamalat i Islam” by an Ahmadi in Parachinar .

Sahibzada Abdul Latif sent one of his pupils Abdur Rehman  to Qadian to find out more about Mirza Ghulam Ahmad. He spent some months studying Ahmadiyyat and upon his return to Kabul brought back some books from Qadian. One of the books was a treatise that argued against the concept of Jihad as defined by the Muslim Ulema of the time. Upon his return Abdur Rehman was intercepted by the Amir’s spies and upon the contents of the book on Jihad being explained to the Amir he cruelly ordered the execution of Abdur Rehman; who was subsequently strangled with a silk scarf whilst still in his prison cell. In the eyes of Ahmadis Abdur Rehman became their first martyr in Afghanistan 

Sahibzada Abdul Lateef  in time also became an Ahmadi whilst on a visit to Qadian. He knew full well that the Amir’s spies would have informed the Amir that he had spent all his time in Qadian and that he had accepted Ahmadiyyat, and as a result felt it prudent to write to the Amir to seek his permission to return to Kabul. Once he received a favourable reply he proceeded to Afghanistan and headed to his ancestral home of Syed Gah in Khost. Sahibzada Sahib had a premonition that all would not be well in Afghanistan and that he could well be heading into a trap, but he did not hesitate and told some of his followers that he knew what was expected of him.

After a few days of his arrival in Khost, fifty heavily armed horsemen suddenly arrived one morning and told him that he was wanted by the Governor. Sahibzada Sahib saddled up his own horse and left Syed Gah knowing full well that his ordeal and test of faith had begun. Taking him to the Governor of Khost was simply a ruse to get him to make the journey to Kabul. From Khost he was taken to Kabul and he later entered the city of Kabul one morning escorted by eight armed horsemen.

Upon presentation before the Amir he was made aware of the Amir’s displeasure as the Amir refused to talk to him directly and instead ordered his detention within the palace. As a further punishment the heavy chain known as the Ghraghrab was placed around his neck. Weighing 32 kgs in weight it would have been a terrible ordeal for the elderly Sahibzada Abdul Latif to wear around his neck. To add to his torment,his hands were tied, and feet manacled with heavy chains, and he was then taken to the palace dungeon.

For the next four months Sahibzada Abdul Latif was kept in the palace dungeon, and was repeatedly called before the Amir and asked to repent and renounce his love of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad. The Amir tried to entice him by stating, that were he to renounce his faith he would be released with full honour and dignity, but in every case he refused. 

 After four months of torment and captivity Sahibzada Abdul Latif was brought before the Amir and he was once again asked to publicly recant his belief in Mirza Ghulam Ahmad. He refused and instead he asked that Kabul’s religious scholars engage in a written public debate with him to establish the veracity of his claims. The Amir realised that he had to bring this matter to a head, and ordered that such a debate take place. Eight “scholars” were chosen including a Punjabi doctor from Gujrat was chosen as the Adjudicator of the debate. The injustice of this was clear from the fact that the Punjabi doctor was renowned for his hatred of Ahmadis and had done much to poison the minds of the Amir’s court against Sahibzada Sahib, and Ahmadis in general. Perhaps Sahibzada Sahib knew that his words would be twisted, which is why he asked for a written debate.

The debate began at 7am in the morning the next day and onlookers observed the passing of written questions and answers between Sahibzada Abdul Latif and the eight other “scholars”. All the time the debate was progressing, palace guards with drawn swords stood over Sahibzada Sahib to further intimidate him.

British engineer Frank Martin in his book the “Under the Absolute Amir” describes what happens next:

“...a jury of twelve of the most learned moullahs was convened, and even their examination of the accused could elicit nothing on which the man might be killed,and they reported this to the Amir. But the Amir said the man must be convicted, and so he was again sent to the moullahs, who were told that they must sign a paper, saying the man was an apostate and worthy of death. Again the majority of the moullahs made affirmation that he was innocent of anything against their religion, but two of the moullahs, who were friends of Sirdar Nasrullah Khan (the Amir’s younger brother), and had been talked over by him, gave their verdict for death, and on the finding of these two moullahs the man was condemned by the Amir”

 The debate came to an end by 4pm with Sahibzada Sahib resolute in his belief. Some of the “scholars” in frustration started to abuse him, whilst others tried to beg Sahibzada Sahibs to recant as they knew the terrible fate that awaited him at the hands of the Amir. But once again Sahibzada Sahib gave the same reply that he had given to the Amir himself and to all his representatives.

The judgement was a foregone conclusion and perhaps to hide the paucity of their arguments the “scholars” did not present the written arguments to the Amir, but  nor did the Amir deign to ask for the written record. Sahibzada Sahib was returned to his cell for one last time still wearing the chains and manacles that he had worn throughout the debate.

The next day the 14th of July 1903 he was brought before the Amir and the sentence was confirmed before the assembled court and the Amir ordered that Sahibzada Sahib be stoned to death. Even at this late point the Amir appealed to Sahibzada Sahib offering to restore all his lands and status, if only he would recant. Sahibzada Abdul Latif quietly but firmly declined the offer, but in the Amir’s presence prophesised that a great calamity would befall all of them.

Upon the verdict of death being handed down preparations were made, and it was ordered that Sahibzada Abdul Latif be taken to the main ground for the public execution. Public announcement were made in the streets and bazaars and the citizens of Kabul were told that the Amir himself would be at the place of execution. In a final act of unimaginable cruelty the Amir ordered that Sahibzada Sahib’s nose be pierced and a rope inserted and that he be dragged through the streets of Kabul by the nose. It is difficult to imagine the pain and suffering of Sahibzada Sahib as this final indignity was inflicted upon him, and yet he still did not waver, or seek mercy from his accusers.

Mr.B.A.Rafiq in his book “The Afghan Martyrs” relates:

“Sahibzada Abdul Lateef, the tutor of the King, a great spiritual leader of Afghanistan, the paramount Chief of Khost, was to be stoned to death. From the previous evening, by the beating of a drum it had been proclaimed that the following afternoon, on the 14th of July, people should assemble in large numbers opposite the Royal Palace. The proclamation directed that each individual should carry his own stones or brick bats with him, as because of his apostasy, the famous religious divine who was the Imam of the Royal Mosque, was to be stoned to death having been found guilty of 'kufr'. It was announced that the condemned Abdul Lateef was to be taken to the graveyard in a procession. As a further temptation they were advised that Sardar Nasrulla Khan and the King of Afghanistan, Ameer Habeebulla Khan, were to lead the march along with Mullah Abdur Razzaque and other distinguished scholars”.

Once his nose was pierced and a rope inserted, the edict of death was hung around his neck. Sahibzada Sahib was then taken in procession through the streets & bazaars of Kabul whilst hundreds of jeering, mocking citizens of Kabul hurled abuse upon him. The Amir along with the entire royal court followed the procession on horseback as Sahibzada Sahib stumbled and walked towards his own death. 

“Eyewitnesses relate that despite massive chains around his feet the Sahibzada was walking at a brisk pace. On the way a Moulvi said to him, "You are walking rapidly. Are you not afraid of death? Are you not concerned about your wife and your children? Can't you feel that your chains and shackles are heavy and you have been hand cuffed?" In answer he said, "I am carrying the chains, shackles and handcuffs for the sake of Hadhrat Mohammad Mustapha (PBUH) and to me they are like ornaments. I am walking briskly because I am impatient for a rendezvous with my Master. There was not the slightest trace of fear on his face nor was there any concern for the sadistic manner in which the population had treated him. He marched cheerfully and with great equanimity and the light of spiritual tranquility was evident from his blessed face. When he reached the site of execution the King and the notables alighted from their horses.

- The Afghan Martyrs by B.A.Rafiq

As was the custom a shallow pit had been dug in the main ground and Sahibzada Sahib was lowered into the pit up to his waist, and the ground firmed up around him. It was believed that if the accused could wriggle his way out of the pit he would be saved from execution, but Sahibzada Sahib made no attempt to break free. A Mullah stood in front of him and pleaded that he recant before it was too late. Sahibzada Sahib  with his arms tied behind his back and buried in the pit, shook his head fiercely and told the Mullah  not stand between him and his Maker. His tormentors meanwhile had formed a circle round him, and started to close in.The Amir stepped back and perhaps realizing the enormity of what they were about to do asked the Chief Qazi to hurl the first stone. The Qazi remonstrated and instead asked the Amir to be the first. The Amir firmly told the Qazi that it it was his duty to be the first, and with that the Qazi stepped forward and hurled a large rock at the head of Sahibzada Sahib which caused a huge injury. The Amir was next and hurled his stone after which the assembled mob joined in and before long Sahibzada Sahib’s body was covered in a mound of stones. 

Following the death of Sahibzada Sahib in Kabul his extended and immediate family were forced to migrate from their ancestral lands in Khost to Parachinar to seek refuge from the depredations of the tyrant Amir Habibullah and his court.To this day the family members (now spread all over the world) still recall the terrible events that their ancestor endured those many years ago in Kabul.   

A lawyer of Pashtun heritage currently working in the Gulf region who writes on regional affairs and can be reached at munirkhan74@rocketmail.com

Wali Khan : The Frontier Liberal

by  M. Taqi

part 1 of a five part profile series written over the last two years by the writer

گریزد از صف ما ہر کہ مرد غوغا نیست
کسے کہ کشتہ نہ شد از قبیلہ ما نیست

guraizad az saf e ma har keh mard e ghaugha neest
kasay keh kushtah na shud az qabeela e ma neest

He who lacks the will to protest, should step away from my fold. Anyone not willing to sacrifice does not belong to my clan -  Nazeeri Nishaburi.

Throughout the second half of the twentieth century Wali Khan indeed remained the voice of protest and democratic opposition in Pakistan.

One is tempted to compare Wali Khan's legacy to the mystical story in Rumi's Mathnawi, of the elephant surrounded by several men in a dark room trying to figure it out. He certainly was different things to different people.

For his adversaries like the right-wing Muslim Leaguers a la Qayyum Khan or the populist ZA Bhutto he was the arch-enemy - an absolute traitor - who should have been physically eliminated. And to this end they tried their best - at times using the services of a certain leftist group in the NWFP.

His adversaries at least concurred on him being a constant thorn in their side. However, his admirers faced a bigger dilemma - how to classify Wali Khan and which aspects of his thought and politics to choose,subscribe to and admire.

Was a he a Pashtun nationalist, out to undo the wrongs of history and colonialism and reunite the Pashtun irredentas of Afghanistan,FATA, NWFP and Baluchistan and recreate a greater Pashtunistan - something that had not been achieved since Ahmed Shah Durrani.

The others argued that he was a socialist in the Nehruvian mould, who relished his role in the Afro-Asian Solidarity movement. And yet others believed that the Solidarity was a front for a complete implementation of the Soviet agenda and Wali Khan was somehow keen on carrying the latter out.

Like the people around the elephant in that dark room, in Rumi's parable, most of us - supporters and detractors alike - only felt parts of Wali Khan's political being and mistook that part for the whole. Such differences in vantage points and observations made therefrom , make Wali Khan's legacy infinitely negotiable.

For example, the late Jauhar Mir - a PPP intellectual and poet- writing about Wali Khan had stated that Wali Khan really had no political creed of his own and he borrowed and adopted the leftist ideology from his fellow travelers.

On the other hand, his comrade-in-arms Habib Jalib opened his poem about Wali Khan with :

مرے کارواں میں شامل کوئی کم نظر نہیں ہے
جو نہ مٹ سکے وطن پر میرا ہمسفر نہیں ہے

meray karwaaN meiN shamil koee kamnazar naheeN hai
jo na mit sakay watan per mera hamsafar naheeN hai

There is no one in my entourage whose creed is pettiness. No such person travels with me who can't make a sacrifice for the motherland

Jalib was visiting Peshawar in 1990 to address election rallies when I asked him about his inspiration for this particular poem about Wali Khan. He acknowledged that indeed it was the Nazeeri Nishaburi's verse quoted in the opening which he had paraphrased.

While the contemporary historians and his biographers - of whom there is a dire need - would certainly keep negotiating and determining Wali Khan's political legacy, one thing is clear that he was a pioneer in the center-left electoral politics in the undivided Pakistan.

Wali Khan's most underestimated contribution perhaps is that he made a clean break with the politics of street agitation espoused by Maulana Hameed Bhashani and the militant adventurism championed by Major (R) Ishaq and Muhammad Afzal Bangash.

The Peshawar declaration of July 1, 1968 announcing the formation of Pakistan National Awami Party (NAP) with a clear electoral program and a socialist economic manifesto was a watershed event in the history of the leftist electoral politics in Pakistan. Along with Professor Muzzafar Ahmed , Mahmud ul Haq Usmani, Arbab Sikander Khalil and G B Bizenjo, Wali Khan had brought the leftists and nationalists not just together but at the verge of political power through ballot.

Another landmark achievement of Wali Khan was using the anti-Ayub campaigns of the 1960s to help the Pashtun polity metamorphose into the twentieth century political party organization. While Baacha Khan's anti-British struggle had trickled down to the town and village level, the organization of the Red Shirts had remained arrested at a pre-independence stage. Wali Khan was acutely aware of this shortcoming and deployed the anti-Ayub campaign's scaffolding to build the NAP's organizational structure along modern lines.

Wali Khan's campaign in support of Ms.Fatima Jinnah against Ayub Khan, not only reflected his anti-tyranny character but in doing so resonated well with the Pashtun youth by then entering the universities and getting exposed to the modern thought. Some of these students like Latif Afridi and Afrasiab Khattak were to later inherit Wali Khan's political mantle at different levels.

Yusuf Lodhi cartoon 

Wali Khan's foremost acknowledged contribution remains his role in the post-1971 constitution making. It was at this juncture that he shone as a polished Westminster style democrat and negotiated and delivered with Z A Bhutto the unanimously approved 1973 Constitution of Pakistan.    

While the PPP's tactics of political intrigue and personal and political persecution threatened to derail the process every step of the way, Wali Khan and other NAP leaders remained above personal fray and pettiness. Former PPP Law Minister Rafi Raza and Sardar Sherbaz Khan Mazari's written accounts are succinct portraits of the magnanimity displayed by the opposition leaders in bringing the constitution-making to fruition.

I am not sure if he would have liked to be called one, but in his words and actions Wali Khan was the liberal in the western sense of the word.

Without subscribing to any textbook ideology, Wali Khan groomed the diversity of political visions he had managed to rally around him. He was bridge between the anti-British struggle and the needs of conducting politics in a modern nation-state. While keeping his values and historical inheritance intact he looked forward to a changing world.In a country teeming with overt religiosity, he had remained a torchbearer of secular ethos till the very end.

I believe that Wali Khan's politics will continue to be studied,admired and criticized from various ideological,political and personal perspectives but I hope that due attention would also be paid to Wali Khan the man. The man who once acted on the stage as a child-star, who was a repertoire of poetry -whether Pashto tapay or Faiz's Urdu ghazals, who loved Yousuf Lodhi's political cartoons and Gulzar Alam's music.

Like Rumi himself, Wali Khan's creed was not the moral certitude but an acknowledgment that an alternative view existed too. This, to me, was the hallmark of the Frontier Liberal that Wali Khan was.

The writer can be reached at mazdaki@me.com. He tweets at http://twitter.com/mazdaki

• The article originally appeared in "The Statesman" on January 25, 2010.
•  copyright Statesman, Peshawar republished for information purposes

Rajesh Khanna: The Prince of Romance

originally published by Outlook India and Daily Times Pakistan

Beyond Borders

by  Mohammad Taqi

picture copyright Hindu 

Many say Jitin Arora was born in Amritsar, India while some others claim he may have been born in Burewala in what is now Pakistan but most agree that as Rajesh Khanna he lived in the hearts of millions from Kabul to Kolkata, and beyond. I say most, as even when the prince of romance is mourned everywhere Hindi and Urdu are understood, some like a Pakistani television anchor Talat Hussain opted to deride him quite viciously. In his show dated July 19, 2012, which can be found at http://bit.ly/MuFrV3, Mr. Hussain disparages the media coverage of Rajesh Khanna’s demise on the pretext of evaluating its news value. The anchor’s barely concealed xenophobia is most unfortunate but let it not take away from what Kaka, as Rajesh was affectionately called, meant to literally hundreds of thousands of Pakistanis.

Pakistani governments had opted to first levy heavy taxes on the Indian films to curb import and then banned them initially in the western wing in 1952 and eventually even in East Pakistan by 1962. But it is still hard to erect barriers to popular culture, especially where the historical and linguistic bonds unite people despite the state ideology or political dispensation. When Doordarshan India started its telecast to Lahore it attracted not just the locals but also many others who could manage to travel to Lahore. On the other hand, Peshawar’s lifeline to the Indian cinema turned out to be the metropolitan Kabul of 1960s and 1970s. Theaters like the Temurshahi, Kabul Nandareh, Zainab Nandareh and Behzad screened new Bombay movies in Kabul. And as one Peshawari elder put it, they “descended upon Kabul to watch Aradhana in hordes”. Indeed one need not look beyond that 1969 release to grasp the magic of Rajesh Khanna.

The chemistry between Rajesh and his leading lady Sharmila Tagore in Aradhana, and thereafter, was almost palpable. Add to it Kishore Kumar and Lata Mangeshkar’s playback rendition to Sachin Dev ‘SD’ Burman’s music and there was no looking back for Rajesh. The beat, rhythm and use of orchestra to produce an exceedingly contemporary melody – as against SD’s semi-classical and folk-based tunes - in one song at least, also had the unmistakable fingerprint of SD’s son Rahul Dev Burman, whose name appeared as the assistant music director. Kishore Kumar and RD Burman became to Rajesh what Mukesh and Shankar-Jai Kishan were to the great Raj Kapoor. The trio did some 32 movies together. Rajesh was to later say to the documentary filmmaker Jack Pizzey about Kishore: “This is one of those playback singers … I mean … you hear the playback singer and you feel it is me who is singing …more or less … lots of similarity between his voice and my voice … only thing is that he can sing, I can’t!”

About that song Nilanjana Bhattacharjya notes in a 2009 study on the Hindi film song sequence in the periodical Asian Music: “Roop Tera Mastana (Your Beauty Intoxicates Me) from Aradhana, for example, unfolds in a secluded log cabin in Kashmir. The lyrics to the song annotate the rising level of passion between the couple amidst their awareness that despite having eloped, they approach dangerous territory. The lyrics effectively rule out any need for dialogue as the song sequence depicts a young man and young woman drawn increasingly closer before cutting to an unrelated scene the next morning.”

The Hindi film music and lip-syncing are virtually synonymous but this song sequence perhaps is unique in that Rajesh matched the range of Kishore’s voice only through the panoply of his expression without moving his lips. And did the male protagonist Arun’s body language and gaze fixed on Vandana, the female lead, delivered - and evoked - every emotion it could or what! Perhaps inspired by this and similar song sequences, Jack Pizzey had to say: “Kissing may be forbidden on the Indian screen but Rajesh has found more ways of implying love than the Kama Sutra has of making it!”

Little wonder that the movie, which on the face of it was a maternal melodrama, practically broke every taboo on sensuality in the Indian cinema and established Rajesh Khanna as the unmistakable prince of passion. He essayed the double role of a father and son, both dapper air force officers, in a movie that condemns a woman’s victimization at one level and at another more sublime one punishes her for a ‘lapse of judgment’. Unlike majority of Hindi movies the real protagonist of the movie is Vandana and no surprise that Sharmila Tagore’s powerful performance landed her the Filmfare award for best actress that year. Rajesh, however, came out of Aradhana as the heartthrob, whose mention forever would entail anecdotes about how girls would slap kisses on his car, write letters to him in their blood or marry his picture.

The Rajesh Khanna phenomenon was actually the sub-continental middleclass finding its first original celebrity post-1947. Dilip Kumar, Raj Kapoor and Dev Anand were past their prime in more ways than one. The Nehruvian ethos of the former two especially was ready to be replaced by something more compatible with the increasingly urbanizing masses that were craving, yet not willing, to let go of the tradition. In Pakistan Rajesh was not quite the idol of the Anglicized upper crust and obviously not of the ideologically anchored-types. That is in fact true for whole commercial Hindi cinema. But Rajesh’s appeal was in the mohallahs and streets of the large and small towns where the arrival of the videocassette recorder (VCR) in 1980s provided the young and old an opportunity to cram through his entire filmography. There was hardly a neighborhood in any town where the local “music center” would not have at least his first 13 blockbusters. In a way, arrival in the Pakistani market via the VCR gave Rajesh certain immunity against the box-office as the barometer of success and forever archived his image as the quintessential flamboyant romantic.

Rajesh Khanna was a Bollywood icon when there was no Bollywood, Bombay had not become the puritanical Mumbai yet, and Pakistan, of course had not produced its own version of Bal Thackerays. The news value of anything and how it should be slotted is certainly debatable but let there be no doubt that to Pakistanis too Rajesh Khanna’s death means the passing of an era. He will always be remembered as The Superstar – the one for whom the term was coined. RIP Kaka!
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Dr. Mohammad Taqi is a regular columnist for Daily Times, Pakistan. He can be reached at mazdaki@me.com or via Twitter @mazdaki