A moon for two Eids
Opinion
May 16, 2021
Overseas Pakistanis are denied the excitement of sighting the Eid moon on the 29th of Ramazan. Even when there is no suspense about the outcome, the entire spectacle is dutifully staged. The evening belongs to a select group of religious scholars who gather on a rooftop to peer into a telescope, looking for the new moon that should technically be visible to the naked eye.
But we have a history of how this supposedly easy and straightforward exercise can become controversial. After all, a new moon makes a fleeting appearance. Or a phantom moon may rise in the rugged hills of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and the vision is promptly conveyed to Mufti Popalzai in Peshawar, our practised bringer of the first Eid when we have two.
SINDH: At the Banarsi Silk Weavers’ Colony in the city of Khairpur, in Sindh, 47-year-old merchant Zafar Abbas Ansari was waiting, hoping for a few additional orders of silk Banarsi saris as Eid Al-Fitr approached.
The sari is a garment native to South Asia, where a long piece of cloth is wrapped elaborately around the body usually in cotton or silk and worn with a matching blouse.
Although the city does not make Banarsi any longer it is now made in Karachi, more than 400 km away customers still come to the city to purchase the fabric.
Inside the deserted 70-year-old market once a bustling place Zafar’s shop is among the last three Banarsi shops left. His family is one of the 40 weaver families who brought the industry to Khairpur when they migrated from India in 1952.
IA Rehman the non-conformist humanitarian
“Whoever controls the media, controls the mind” Jim Morrison.
On an oppressive August day back in 1986, after shifting from Karachi to Lahore, my husband took me to the offices of the Viewpoint magazine at 4A Lawrence Road to meet his former colleagues. The very first question Mr IA Rehman [Ibn Abdur Rehman, popularly known as Rehman Sahib] asked me, with that signature twinkle in his eyes was, “So, how is Lahore treating you?” One single question, yet so full of hospitality, concern and above all, camaraderie, that it swept me off my feet. That singular brush with this titan of print media journalism left me awestruck. He appeared to be the most unassuming character, someone who could easily pass for a ‘commoner’ in a crowd while keeping his larger-than-life personality intact. As many others have said before me, Rehman Sahib was the kind of person whom one could proudly introduce – not just as a prominent professional –
(L) A news item reporting hundreds of Indian tanks slashed deep into Pakistan in a bid to sever the vital communication artery linking Lahore and the capital, Rawalpindi (The Australian, September 13, 1965). It was the East Bengal Regiment that saved Lahore from being over-run by Indian troops.
The years 1968-1969, were a tumultuous period in the political history of the state of Pakistan. My father a Bengali civil servant from East Pakistan, was an official in the then central government in Islamabad. I was a schoolboy in the 10th grade. In February, 1968, President Ayub Khan suffered a near fatal heart attack in Rawalpindi. I distinctly remember that there was this 48 hours of gripping silence in Islamabad, especially at the government level. There was a complete blackout of news on the fate of Ayub. Nobody knew who exactly was running the country. There was widespread speculation that the self-styled Field Marshal had actually died. Meanwhile, as death danced at Ayub s door, the
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