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Overview: A tale of two cities
By
Sonya Rehman & Khaver Siddiqi
The music of Karachi has no definite history to speak of as opposed
to Lahore. Karachi is a modern city with a modern sound. It is the
sound of realism, at times resounding with the harshness of reality
and sometimes echoing its soul.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” Charles
Dickens’ literary masterpiece, A Tale of Two Cities, begins with
these words. Though the novel has a theme of self-sacrifice and
resurrection, the starting line of the novel can be applied here in
Pakistan to two of its largest and most prominent cities — namely
Karachi and Lahore.
Indeed both cities have seen the best and the worst of times as far
as the music industry’s concerned. But how do these cities relate to
one another? How does their music combine and form the modern music
scene as we know it?
The music that originates from the Punjab is as intricate as its
historic architecture. Lahore, the “garden of the Mughals”, has seen
a myriad of melodies, genres, and vocals alongside a variety of
musical instruments (both new and old) over the past few decades.
This has given rise to the city’s diverse sound of music and rapidly
evolving culture from the earthy qawwals of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan,
the Punjabi ditties of Abrar-ul-Haq, pop sensations Atif Aslam and
Ali Zafar, the underground Lahori grunge/rock revolution (of a
handful of bands) during the early ’90s and the revolutionaries of
yesteryear such as Malika-i-Tarannum Noor Jehan, Farida Khanum,
Ustad Amanat Ali Khan and many more. In addition, the dhol maestro
Pappu Saien and the master of the ek-tara, Saien Zahoor (both of
whom have performed for people at shrines and concerts) to the fresh
crop of commercialised Lahori pop acts (of both the past and today),
the jaded, angst-ridden rockers/bands such as Shahzad Hameed, Call
and eP, music from Lahore has been assorted at best.
In fact, Lahore’s music scene has churned out so many musicians over
the years that it would be almost impossible to list each
band/musician down. Nonetheless each has contributed to the
country’s music scene on a macro level, making it what it is today
and pulsating with promise.
Even though things have been on the downslide, given the worldwide
economic recession and the security situation within Pakistan, local
musicians have still managed to stay in the game by taking out
albums (some of which are entirely self-funded), and by playing at
concerts throughout the country.
Therefore, given the innumerable genres, the music from Punjab
cannot really be ‘defined’ as such, rather just felt and taken in.
And perhaps this is what sets the city of Lahore’s music apart from
Karachi’s music scene. Where Karachi carries its very own signature
sound, melodies from Lahore come wrapped in unrequited love,
sufistic devotion and nostalgia which often reminds one of luminous
diyas and fresh-smelling jasmine.
On the other hand, Karachi as a city can best be described as a
potpourri of people, traditions, lifestyles and history. This
stepping stone of Mohammad Bin Qasim, a picturesque city of lights
and lightlessness, has its own distinct sound which permeates
through the air and settles amongst its populace. Music has always
been a vital part of this city, whether it is the sound of the drums
at Abdullah Shah Ghazi’s mausoleum in Clifton or the tone of
socialism in Faiz Ahmad Faiz’s poetry. The music (and its words)
very much echo the mood of the city — it is sombre and realist,
laced with satire and melancholy. The music of Karachi has no
definite history to speak of as opposed to Lahore. Karachi is a
modern city with a modern sound. It is the sound of realism, at
times resounding with the harshness of reality and sometimes echoing
its soul.
The music from the city by the sea is gritty, real and often makes
many political statements. Social Circus by Ali Azmat is an album
that, in recent times, speaks this city’s language. Take this album
and drive along the streets of Karachi and you’ll find yourself
travelling the city with an accompanying soundtrack. From the raging
guitars of the intro track accompanied by the blaring W-11 route
minibus and all, to the calming rushes of the waves at the coast,
the album speaks the language of Karachi.
But its not just Azmat’s album that beckons the sights and sounds of
Karachi, for bands like Strings and Junoon evoke a particular
Karachi sound. In terms of heritage, giants like Allan Fakir and
Abida Parveen evoke a rich texture unto the language of the entire
Sindh province. Going further deep into heritage we come to the
mazars of Karachi, most particularly that of Abdullah Shah Ghazi,
the monument that is perhaps the essence of this land long before
the present time or the British Raj. One will often find people from
all walks of life loitering about the premises; some simply paying
their respects through prayer whereas others through their stories
of song. And it is those stories of song that paint an unseen
picture of this coastal city no matter where you are in the world.
Comparisons between Lahore and Karachi are ultimately inevitable.
Though we are one nation, we speak many languages and we have a
collective history of many generations. Though the two cities are so
vastly different and apart, they are indeed just branches of the one
and same tree.
In Pakistan, we have at our disposal a thoroughly rich and diverse
cultural heritage which has blossomed over decades, if not centuries
from almost every facet of what ‘art’ encompasses such as music,
fashion, poetry, architecture and so on.
That being stated, there is a hidden but devastating war taking
place. Unlike our neighbors that celebrate, support and cherish
culture, our culture is gradually eroding away. The result is we are
now on the brink of losing our identity. Our art and culture must be
held on to firmly and with an unflinching zeal. It must constantly
be nurtured, nourished and cultivated, not letting ‘borrowed
culture’ from overseas sully it. During these trying times art seems
to be our only release, making everything at the end of the day seem
all the more worthwhile.
Dawn:Images :Sunday, 17 May,
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