From ‘Reporting Pakistan’ by Meena Menon

Unlike Islamabad, the pavements [in Karachi] were crowded with people and lined with small markets. Everything seemed to be cheaper than in India. In fact, some shopkeepers gave us concessions because we were Indian.

Islamabad is a friendly city and doing stories was not too difficult since most people were forthcoming ….Clothes were important and make-up. A friend had advised me to ‘dress well’, as otherwise I would appear shabby in comparison with the elegant Pakistanis.

Pakistani food was meat, meat and more meat, and even chicken was considered vegetarian……. While the kebabs and naan were great, the Chinese food was a disappointment; the noodles were thick and oily, and the gravy very Punjabi and red.

Complete strangers would invite me for brunches or dinners, and it’s not for nothing that the Punjabis and Pashtuns are famed for their hospitality.

Luckily for me, kadi patta (curry leaves which no one used there) grew at home….finding mustard seeds was a challenge……There was no sign of raw bananas which were among my favourite vegetables ……I didn’t see some of the vegetables I used back home, like the many varieties of beans and gourds we have.but to make up, fruits were in plenty. ….. [Islamabad] had no public transport worth the name then ……I had to rely on the expensive private taxis or radio cabs which were very efficient…….. Islamabad had no metred taxi system and the fares were random.

….Islamabad is safer than Karachi, and walking around, though few do, is kosher. It’s a city for the well heeled, with its capacious bungalows fronted with lawns…..The red-bricked katchi abadis – where the poor lived are bigger than the small rooms in Mumbai slums and spacious, but are just as sordid as in India in terms of basic amenities, cleanliness and overflowing gutters. Poverty, as much as it was hidden in Islamabad, was acute. People had to collect firewood for their fuel needs, food security was low, and the power sporadic.

Sitting in that packed hall, I could feel a buzz of approval for Bollywood, and no matter how terrible the films were, they ran to full houses, and people loved every minute. I seemed to be in the minority. In fact, they didn’t even want to know anything about the film before watching it…… I count among the worst films I ever saw Main Tera Hero, which, to my astonishment, was highly appreciated. Even my friend who was the one who wanted to see it, said it wasn’t so bad! People loved the locales, especially if it was Mumbai, which looked great on screen, much better than it did in reality. They would be awestruck by the sea and Marine Drive…….

Bollywood reigns supreme ….In Pakistan I found that even the most serious journalists, and there were many, would take the trouble to come and introduce themselves and ask you about the political scene quickly before launching with great deliberation on their favourite subjects. ……Indian TV serials are popular and the dresses the women wear in them are much sought after…..

……..Pakistani hospitality, I must say that this unconditional affection and warmth is overwhelming.

…….Not knowing Urdu can be a severe handicap…..And the fact that I was a South Indian didn’t help. There was a comical bias against ‘Madrasis’ ……..and the stereotype included the belief that we were some uncultured, dark louts, not used to the freezing northern climate and bundling up in excess for the cold.

I found them [Punjabis] a warm, hospitable, community, proud of their language and culture, and often clashing with the equally proud, hospitable and charming Pashtuns. It was quite funny at a harmless, friendly level but nationally, it was the basis of a serious political divide….

The exquisite tailoring in Pakistan had a reputation of its own.

While buying DVDs at a music shop, the salesman was so thrilled I was from Mumbai, his dream city, that he gave me a free DVD.

Despite war, deep suspicion and hostility I made friends, and I didn’t quite feel I was living in an ‘enemy’ country for most of the time, except when the presence of spooks became hard to ignore and any victory over India was celebrated with unholy glee.

The fact that I was an Indian worked against me at one level, though equally and happily, it was also the reason most people went out of their way to help me.

I found that two politicians fascinated Pakistanis. One was Narendra Modi who seems to have quickly replaced Vajpayee in popular memory, and the other was Arvind Kejriwal.

The public funeral of Jinnah, an Ismaili who converted to an Isna Ashari (also spelt ‘Ithna Ashariyya’) Shia (or Twelver Shia, a sect of Shias believing in the twelve Imams), was according to Sunni ritual. His sister, Fatima, who died in 1967 was also given a private Shia funeral before the public one according to Sunni rites……… Nobel-prize winning …Dr Abdus Salam …..his country has chosen to obliterate his memory because he was an Ahmadi………the highest-ranking Pakistani official present for his funeral was a superintendent of police. ……The word ‘Muslim’ (the inscription on his grave had said the ‘first Muslim Nobel laureate’) was removed by court orders……..The anti-Ahmadi protests spun out of control into violence in the 1950s……… Its not easy to get Ahmadis to speak up, most of them are afraid and tend to keep a low profile so that they are not killed.

Of all the minority groups, Pakistani Hindus have borne the brunt of stigmatization as a consequence of biased school textbooks that paint them as evil, anti-state and untrustworthy

……..That’s how much the Shia were hated. And there would be regular attacks on Shia pilgrims and on the imambargahs. …..I met some Hazara Shias who had fled Quetta to make their home in the capital. Even a simple act of going to buy things or sending children to school was fraught with anxiety,……. It was his word against another’s and the courts ignored the fact that he was a paranoid schizophrenic. Blasphemy laws are used conveniently against the minorities and Muslims too, to evict them or take revenge, and Mohammed Asghar, a mentally challenged man, was a victim.

In the government schools, Christian children were called the children of ‘chudus’, or sweepers. Many of the Christians were converts from the Dalit community and they were still outcaste in some ways.

During my travels, I do run into Malayalis in the most unlikely places …….I didn’t imagine there would be a community in virtual exile in Karachi …….In 1986, a survey by the Malabar Muslim Jamaat identified 64,000 Keralites there, mostly those who had fled after the Moplah rebellion in 1921. That numbe may have dwindled to less than half by now…… Most of the Malayalis are shopkeepers in Karachi, and they are spread out in the old Mohajir housing colonies…….. They mask their yearning for home with a bravado that has been worn thin by helplessness.