February 15, 2017
While the footfalls at the Karachi Literature Festival (KLF) may have increased this year, its choice of sessions, panelists and speakers have failed to impress. Once again, it seems, for the second year in a row, the Lahore Literary Festival will eclipse the KLF.
A session at the Karachi lit fest was titled “Phool aur Shabnam: Bushra Ansari with Shabnam,” which made one wonder if Ansari was the phool (flower). Both Shabnam and Ansari were a study in contrast. While one was brassy and overbearing, the other was humble, demure and charming. (It isn't rocket science to figure out which one was which).
Ansari appears to have permanently metamorphosed into Bijli, the character she played on a serial by Anwar Maqsood in the 1980s. She was a strange choice as a moderator, with a propensity for overacting.
Shabnam arrived late to the venue, delayed by Karachi’s traffic. Till then, we were entertained by Ansari’s hackneyed quips and bouts of singing, interspersed with a shrill laughter. On her way to the stage, Shabnam told the audience how unrecognizable Karachi had become from her last visit four years ago.
Now that the legendary actress had finally arrived, she should have been allowed to take center stage. But that seemed impossible with Ansari around. Instead, she harped on about a play she was writing, featuring the character of a 'Bangalan', which she wanted Shabnam to play. Shabnam smiled in response.
A few more mentions of the play before she finally changed the topic. Someone should tell Bushra Ansari that 'Bangalan' is a racist term and using it in a public setting is inappropriate, especially when you are honouring an actress from Bangladesh.
On the other hand, Mohammad Hanif has always been an interviewer’s delight. He impresses with his great sense of humor. But put him on the other side of the microphone and he will loose his charm. His session with Mirza Waheed, titled, “Of Love in a Place of War,” floundered for this very reason. Waheed is never afraid to voice his controversial views, but there wasn’t a peep out of him during the talk, since the discussion only centered on his latest book.
“Why is Hanif constantly asking him to read from the book?” complained a young girl to her friend as she walked out, “This is boring.” Hanif, it seems, could see the crowd gradually exiting. Perhaps next time he will stick to being interviewed or being part of a panel.
Another session, the book launch of “Sadequain and the Culture of Enlightenment” by Akbar Naqvi, had an illustrious panel comprising of Nasreen Askari, Saquib Hanif and Sibtain Naqvi. Yet, it fell curiously flat. Perhaps a longer introduction, better eye contact, less excerpts and some slides would have added the sparkle that was missing.
It was heartening to see many students and youngsters thronging to the KLF, but unfortunately there was little on offer to engage their minds. The organizers should include more activities geared towards the majority of our population. Many of us flocked to the “Zara Hat Kay” session moderated by Nadeem Farooq Paracha with guests Mubasher Zaidi, Zarrar Khuhro and Wusutuallah Khan. Their program is ample proof that intelligent discourse on a television talk show works. During the talk, the audience cheered them on like victorious cricket heroes. The conversation veered from the inability of people nowadays to laugh at themselves to the case of the missing bloggers. Khan and Khuhro’s rip-roaringly funny quips had the crowd in fits. Paracha was a great moderator who not only asked the right questions but also allowed the participants to express themselves. Social activists, men, old and young, women, and students, everyone got the opportunity to ask their questions.
The prolific Mustansar Hussain Tarrar has always had that glint in his eye, the gift of the gab and his finger on the pulse of the audience; these gifts made his session “Darya kay Saath Saath” with Zahida Hina an entertaining one. Even the excerpts he chose to read out from his book were on point. The only time he was taken aback was when a female student chose to address him as “Chacha Jee” before asking her question. Seeing him wince, she asked, “Is it ok if I call you Chacha Jee?” which made Tarrar cringe and led to much hilarity amongst the young men sitting nearby.
In other instances, the microphones for the speakers worked well. But those handed out to the audience, during the Q&A, didn’t. The same happened last year. One found it difficult to understand why the chairs were packed, sardine like, especially in the main garden, making movement difficult. I had to leave my handbag with a stranger to look for seats up ahead.
“Is there a bomb in it?” he asked smirking, as I walked on.
“If there is one, you will soon find out,” I replied.
His grin grew wider. I decided it’s best to keep my bag with me at all times.
The complimentary water bottles being handed out outside the hall were a relief in the scorching sun, but I had to wait a bit longer in the queue because there was a short altercation between a security guard and the man at the stall. After the guard left, the man continue to grumble angrily.
“Excuse me? Are you talking to me?” I asked.
“No, Madam, I am talking to myself!” he snapped. And being a Karachiite, I gave him an understanding nod.“Dekhiye, these guards want free water bottles from us. How can we do that? Won’t we get fired?”
I came very close to telling him to take a break and have a Kit Kat.
There is a lack of intellectually stimulating activities in Karachi, which the KLF should hope to fill. People want to learn. Bookshops are shutting down due to lack of buyers. This is why one tends to overlook the decline in standards at the festival and settle for mediocrity. As long as profits are being made, seasoned diplomats and retired bureaucrats are nodding in approval, why should the KLF reboot?
-The views expressed in this blog are those of the author, and do not reflect the official policy or position of Geo News, The News or the Jang Group.