Last weekend, instead of the usual hangout with friends I decided to just tuck myself in bed and watch a classic film, Garam Hava, which I came to know of recently.
Garam Hava is a 1973 Urdu drama film directed by M S Sathyu, with Balraj Sahni as the lead. It was written by Kaifi Azmi and Shama Zaidi, based on an unpublished short story by noted Urdu writer Ismat Chughtai. The plot revolves around a Muslim businessman and his family struggle for their rights in post-partition India – a country which was once their own.
Brilliant script, excellent camerawork, charismatic performances and extraordinary storyline – the film is a thought-provoking and insightful journey of human emotions.
However, there are a few parts in the movie that I could not instantly flush out of my head. The first being the scenario where the lead character, a proud Indian Muslim heads back to his home in a horse cart after bidding farewell to his older brother and family to the railway station for Karachi.
On his way begins the most intense and intriguing conversation between him and the horse cart rider. One of the many thoughtful phrases of the conversation includes “Allah has made Pakistan for us”, referring to the Muslims of course.
Scene changes but that specific phrase unusually kept triggering these strong thoughts as to what we thought this land would be and how it has actually turned out.
Historically, Muslims thought Pakistan would be a land where they’ll be secured – a place where they can freely follow their religion. But the harsh reality is that today we’re torn between the hatred and extremism that unfortunately dwells within. And by ‘we’ I not only refer to Muslims but also the minorities such as Pakistani Christians, Hindus and Sikhs. Getting into sectarianism is a whole new argument in itself.
No! We don’t feel safe in Pakistan. We’re scared to visit our places of worship, which contrasts Muhammad Ali Jinnah’s intent, “You are free; you are free to go to your temples, you are free to go to your mosques or to any other place or worship in this State of Pakistan. You may belong to any religion or caste or creed – that has nothing to do with the business of the State.”
Another simple yet alarming, or rather saddening scene was when a seven-year-old asks his parents if they fly kites in Pakistan. The insensitive reality befalls again and the truth is – no they don’t because instead of curbing severe and important issues, our people think it is mandatory to put an end to our festive seasons and cultural activities like Basant. As someone rightly said, “This fun-loving event, source of happiness for the rich and the poor has now been eliminated from our lives, so much so that our children today find our tales of Basant remote and fantastical.”
It’s heartbreaking to watch Pakistan burn in front of our eyes. Hatred, negativity, incitement of violence and extremism – we’re enveloped with it all.
But as the movie ends on a high note, showcasing the hope and courage of a Muslim who strongly refuses to leave India even after all the hardships, troubles and sorrows, each and every person in Pakistan thinks the same.
Yes! Our places of worship are being attacked, but then there are people who form human chains outside mosques, churches and temples so that the common man has the basic security that he should be obliged with and can pray with peace of mind without the fear of getting killed for his beliefs.
Yes! We’re being attacked and bombed in markets, parks and schools but then there are people who step up and stand in long queues to donate blood and offer any sort of help that also includes dressing up as superheroes to cheer up the injured children.
There are people, youth who educate street children with mere two chairs and tables on the road so that no child is deprived of such an important and valuable treasure. This is what makes Pakistan.
Maybe one day I can watch this film again with pride and tell myself yes, Pakistan is made for us, not only the Muslims but for everyone who lives and belongs here.
And who knows, the sky can once again be filled with colourful kites flying all over making this land even more beautiful. Let’s hope against hope!
The blogger is a Dubai-based content writer who is passionate about women’s rights and education. She tweets @MariaHussain5