Leaving Pakistan behind

As we escalated on to the main concourse of the Istanbul Airport, we were greeted by the sound of music. A group of young people was dancing in a corner to a racy rhythm, surrounded by a crowd of appreciative transit passengers. It was apparently an impromptu performance. And that is how I felt to have been ushered into the outside world, leaving Pakistan behind.

But leaving Pakistan behind would be a hard thing to do, particularly for someone who is professionally required to chronicle its sorrows. However, a somewhat extended vacation in Southern California with great expectations of spending time with both our daughters and their families, would be a valid excuse for this diversion.

So, drinking Turkish coffee at a restaurant in one of the busiest airports of the world and watching, literally, the world go by, I made this resolution to genuinely try to leave Pakistan behind for a brief period of time. I am in a foreign land and they do things differently here, I thought. Can I flow in this tide and not worry too much about what is happening in Pakistan?

Perhaps the time for this exercise is not at all appropriate because so much is happening across the entire spectrum of the country’s existence. A transformative period it is likely to become, with a shift in the dynamics of the civil-military relationship. What is appearing on the horizon is a blur, very much like the Rorschach test in psychiatry. How can I turn away from these momentous developments?

On the other hand, a momentary escape from these highly charged involvements may be therapeutic in some ways, an attempt to protect one’s sanity. In any case, this column is not about the evolving political situation in Pakistan. Though it is obviously not possible to not learn about the main headlines, I have not engaged in any political discourse during this entire week.

In fact, I have not had even a glimmer of a Pakistani news channel, which is not what it used to be during our previous visits. We would part with Geo, so to say, only for the duration of the long flights. It also helps that I am not at all on any social media platform and do not make any political comment on WhatsApp. There is always the chance of running into expatriates who insist on talking politics. This, too, has not happened yet.

Yes, during conversations with relatives and friends, there have been references to the general situation that amounts to a loss of hope in the future of our country. Since I have been a proclaimed pessimist for a long time, I just need to nod in agreement. This also means that I seek to dabble in other pursuits.

On that count, there is a touch of magical realism in the life we are leading as a family. In a world that has divided so many of our middle-class families, where ambitious young people have fallen in love with long distances, being together is a gift of heaven. For old parents and grandparents, every reunion is to be embraced as if it were the last. (As the poet said: “Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought”)

The secret, though, is the ability to live in the moment. This approach is specifically prescribed in the present times of inflation, social discord and political uncertainty. This ‘pursuit of happiness’ is seen to be more in evidence in the United States and where I am now is supposed to be a charmed place. What lovely weather it almost always has.

I know that this thought negates the ravages of climate change and natural disasters in so many countries of the world. Europe, for instance, is visited this summer by an unusual surge in tourism and historically high temperatures, punctuated with thunderstorms. In the United States, the story this week is of devastating fires in Hawaii. We should be grateful for what we have.

There is so much that I can celebrate during this brief escape from Pakistan, in addition to being in the company of my family and enjoying certain luxuries and freedoms. The rigours of living in Karachi tend to enhance the pleasures of this life. There is a lot of time to, among other things, to watch movies in a cinema and breathe the atmosphere in a large bookstore or a library. Reading a book in any of the coffee shops of a shopping mall while the women are hunting for bargains becomes an experience to remember.

After an initial setback, printed books have regained their dominance in this digital age, despite being high-priced. This is an important measure of a country’s intellectual and cultural prowess. What we have in this sector is, in my view, a larger threat to our survival than our economic and political deprivations. The very thought of the overall educational environment that exists on our campuses causes strong feelings of pain and depression.

Because this is just a vacation for me and I am looked after so well, there are ample opportunities of living it up. There is so much to enjoy and to engage with. But what pleases me the most is to intrude into the cultural sphere, wherever possible. That I will remain an outsider of sorts is matter or some regret. This is not the world that I inhabit.

Still, for this short interval, I can do many things that are denied to the citizens of a country like Pakistan. One of them is the simple pleasure of browsing through books in a large bookstore, such as Barnes & Noble, the world’s largest bookseller.

It would be the same in many other developed countries, but let me conclude with a bit of statistical evidence regarding books in America. In 2021, a record 825 million print books were sold and book publishing revenues rose to $29.33 billion. Thanks to the IMF, we know how much only one billion dollars would be.

The writer is a senior journalist. He can be reached at: ghazi_salahuddin@hotmail.com