Lahore as Kipling Knew It

THOUGH Rudyard Kipling lived only five of his 70 years in Lahore, they were the most crucial years of his development as a writer. This rich confection of a city, whose great Mogul buildings and street life evoke the deep hues and sensuality of a miniature painting, was where the teen-aged Kipling cut his teeth as a newspaperman. Lahore provided the setting for some of Kipling’s greatest stories, as well as the raw material for his somewhat misunderstood view of East and West.

Though now obscured as a tourist destination due to its location 15 miles inside Pakistan, Lahore was the heart of Kipling’s India. Between 1882 and 1887, he worked there as the assistant editor of The Civil and Military Gazette, combing the back alleys of the old, walled city for stories and material for his later fiction. Like the Irish street urchin, Kim, the hero of his greatest novel, Kipling used Lahore as a base to explore the rest of the subcontinent.

Armed with the Penguin edition of ”Kim,” I set out for the Lahore Museum, where Kipling’s father, John Lockwood Kipling, had been the curator and where the first scene in ”Kim” takes place. The novel opens with Kim sitting ”astride the gun Zam-Zammah on her brick platform opposite the old Ajaib-Gher – the Wonder House, as the natives call the Lahore Museum.” It was while astride the gun that Kim meets a Tibetan lama, whom the boy then escorts into the Wonder House.

The Zam-Zammah (Urdu for lion’s roar) is known in Lahore as Kim’s gun, and, except for the brick platform that has been replaced by marble, the copper and brass cannon looks exactly as Kipling described it; a massive icon of imperialism over 14 feet long, mounted on wooden wheels that are well over six feet in diameter. And the Wonder House opposite is just that; in my opinion one of the world’s great underrated museums.

Pakistan’s oldest and largest museum is a red sandstone masterpiece of Anglo-Indian Gothic with a white marble facade that unlocks a treasure chest of southern Asian artifacts.

I walked into the main vestibule under a high, frescoed ceiling, listened to the hum of the wall fans, and immediately felt at home. This was as I had always imagined the perfect museum to be, with just enough clutter and disorder to create a feeling of intimacy, but not so much as to distract from the individual works of art.

Kim and the lama had gone into the ”Wonder House to pray before the gods there.” The lama was especially awed by the collection of religious statues from Gandhara, a Buddhist culture that flourished in northwest Pakistan in the first centuries A.D. There are also Hindu and Jain sculptures, Persian, Turkoman and Kurdish rugs, Islamic glazed tiles and calligraphy, Tibetan furniture and votive paintings, and a main gallery filled with Persian and Mogul miniatures. Visually, it is like being glutted with a spicy, multi-course subcontinent meal.

In the novel the ”Keeper of the Images” – a figure based on Kipling’s own father – inspired the lama in his spiritual journey across India in search of a sacred river. The wealth of this collection speaks volumes about the encyclopedic knowledge of Asian culture that the curator, Lockwood Kipling, must have possessed; knowledge that evidently rubbed off on his son to judge by the lavish descriptions in ”Kim.”

Kim procured food and lodging for himself and the lama in Lahore’s old city. ”The hot and crowded bazaars blazed with light as they made their way through the press of all the races in Upper India, and the lama mooned through it like a man in a dream.” The crowds are as dense now as they were then (”Kim” was published in 1901). But unlike bazaars in India itself, there are no beggars and few of the hustlers who make life miserable for tourists in places like Delhi and Agra. Despite the press of humanity, you can have a measure of solitude in Lahore’s old city.

And you can see women too: after visiting so many Middle Eastern bazaars where women were just bobbing black tents, I was dazzled by the number of poor and lower middle class Lahori women with hauntingly beautiful faces, highlighted by eye kohl, gold jewels in their noses, and the flowing saris and trousers-and-tunics outfits that give the bazaar its dash of primary color.

Lahore as Kipling Knew It

I had entered the old city through the Delhi Gate, the most impressive of the portals that are still standing. Under the Mogul emperors Akbar the Great, Jehangir, Shah Jahan and Aurangzeb, Lahore reached a zenith of splendor. The old part of Lahore is the greatest medieval architectural spectacle between Delhi and Isfahan, rivaling the former if not quite the latter.

After a few minutes of walking I came to the Mosque of Wazir Khan, which gets its name from the Governor of the Punjab who built the mosque in 1634 during the reign of Shah Jahan. In an Oct. 1, 1887, dispatch in the Civil and Military Gazette, Kipling wrote that the area of the mosque was ”full of beauty even when the noonday heat silences the voices of men and puts the pigeons of the mosque to sleep.” I removed my shoes and walked into the courtyard at midday, sat on a rush mat under an archway and admired the thin wafers of red brick, the kashi tiles and the frescoes painted in various shades of yellow and orange, the very colors of the ground curry sold in the market nearby. The crazy geometry of the bazaar buildings towered over the courtyard, making it seem even smaller than it was. But, on account of the courtyard’s silence and the lovely reflecting pool in the center, I felt far removed from the city.

I walked out of the old city through the Kashmiri Gate, not far from where Kim and the lama spent their first night on the road together in the stable of an Afghan horse trader. The stables are gone, but the transient atmosphere of the caravansary persists in the form of tented tea stalls and rows of jute beds. For the equivalent of 50 cents, I took a three-wheel auto-rickshaw for the five-minute ride to the Badshahi (King) Mosque, farther along the collapsed old city wall. Completed in 1674 by Aurangzeb, the last great Mogul emperor, the Badshahi Mosque is said to be the largest single-unit mosque in the world, and is arguably second only to the Taj Mahal as an example of Mogul architectural genius.

The courtyard, within four inches of being a perfect square, is almost twice the length of a football field. The linear sweeps of red and pink sandstone clash majestically with the three white marble domes that appear as planets floating in space, around which smaller, white marble satellites, resting atop the turrets and minarets, revolve. Though the scale is grand, it isn’t alienating. Under the stucco tracery of the prayer hall, men were relaxing and praying on the carpets. Nobody talked to me, or stared either. I could have read several chapters of ”Kim” without being interrupted.

The Badshahi Mosque stands in perfect spatial harmony to the old city, the white and gold pudding cake of a Sikh temple, the gardens of Hazuri Bagh and Akbar’s fort. The Sikh temple holds the remains of Ranjit Singh, a one-eyed drunkard and opium addict who brilliantly ruled the Punjab in the early 19th century by uniting all the Sikh tribes and maintaining peaceful relations with the British. It was amid the trees and flowers of the Hazuri Bagh where he held court.

The red brick fortifications of Akbar’s Fort, roughly four times the size of the Badshahi Mosque, give an impression of what the old city walls must have once looked like. The fort, completed a century before the mosque, is nowadays a quiet world of well-kept gardens and archeological remains. In the northwest corner is the Shish Mahal (Palace of Mirrors), built for the women of the court in 1632 by Shah Jahan, the same emperor who built the Taj Mahal. What’s left of this pleasure palace is actually quite little. But, like a good, spare poem, the few marble, Corinthian archways and pavilions, each overlaid with frescoes and thousands of silver, convex mirrors, are sufficient to convey the luscious ambiance of the harem. One can imagine the women, in jewels and saris, reclining on cushions, while sipping pomegranate juice and being refreshed by the breezes that blow through the archways.

The most magnificent of the surviving pavilions is called the Naulakha, which means nine lakhs, or 900,000 rupees, because that was the cost of building it. The Naulakha was also the title of a novel Kipling wrote in collaboration with Wolcott Balestier, the brother of his fiancee, who died of typhus a few weeks before the wedding. In the book, the Naulakha is a famous jewel. But Kipling no doubt was inspired by this pavilion in the Shish Mahal, filled with silver and semiprecious stones. Close by is the Fort Museum, an air-conditioned refuge from the heat, holding an excellent, albeit small, collection of miniature paintings and illuminated manuscripts.

The next morning I took a taxi to the Anarkali Bazaar just outside the Lohari Gate. According to legend, Anarkali (Pomegranate Blossom) was the name of a favorite concubine of Akbar the Great, whom he put to death for having a love affair with his son. This is Lahore’s main shopping district, and on account of its length and the mixture of exotic and mundane household goods, it reminded me of Muski Street in Cairo. For the tourist, Anarkali is a disappointment. All I bought was a battery-operated racing car for my son. (The best collection of miniature paintings I found not in Anarkali, but in the gift shop of the Lahore Museum, where prices range between $10 and $200 depending upon the quality. And for those interested in printed cloth and saris, the best shops are in the Panorama Shopping Center, formerly the site of The Civil and Military Gazette, on the Mall road.) From Anarkali, I took another auto-rickshaw to the Bhatti Gate, and walked up the bazaar street to the Faqir Khana, a rambling, down-at-the-heels mansion in the old city that is known for its private art collection. The guest book showed that I was the first visitor in three days.

A kindly man led me through the many rooms of the house, teeming with precious objects: carpets, old books, Chinese silkscreens, Buddha statues, coins, pottery, paintings, photographs. There was a Mogul miniature with a detail of a court artist drawing a horseman. The horseman was so small that a magnifying glass was required to see it. I was next shown a framed and shredded piece of silk. When I held it up to the sun I saw an intricate Mogul needlepoint drawing of archers and courtesans. This work of art was so faded that a strong light was needed to reveal the details. In another decade or so, I thought, nothing would be left of it.

”Kim,” as I was discovering, though as old as the century, had not faded at all in its ability to render both the overwhelming beauty and squalidness of the Indian subcontinent. And my last night in Lahore, I thought I caught a glimpse of the respect, combined with the terror and amazement, with which Kipling himself must have reacted to this city, back in the days when he edited newspaper copy while sweating under a ceiling fan and sipping a whiskey and soda.

From other travelers, I had heard vague stories about the ”street of the dancing girls” in the old city, but I assumed this was just a polite phrase for a red light district. Then a taxi driver insisted I was wrong, and took me inside the Taxali Gate to the Diamond Bazaar at 11 P.M. This was where Kim had listened to the fakirs and their ”lewd disciples.” (I did see one old man who was shaking a bell and chanting.) The narrow, derelict alleys here were crammed with all types of people, and groups of policemen stood at each corner. But there was no atmosphere of crime or tension.

The crowds were attracted to the succession of lovely carpeted rooms lined with velvet cushions, which were opened to the street and illuminated by the light of hissing gas lamps. In each of the rooms, as though mannequins in a store window, were one or two beautiful women sitting impassively, sipping tea and flanked by a troupe of musicians and an old woman – the dancer’s ever-watchful mother. None of these women leered or even smiled at the passers-by. The women looked fresh, haughty and elegant in their saris of every imaginable color, like the daughters of rich oriental politicians being shown off at a ball.

I selected one room and entered. The door closed behind me and I was offered a seat against a cushion. Then, to the accompaniment of a sitar and a squeeze-box piano, two young women began a classical dance. Their painted faces could have been sculptured by a Mogul artist: I was reminded of the ladies in Shah Jahan’s court. The dancers asked for the equivalent of $10 for the private, 15-minute performance. The only thing hokey about it was that, in the middle, a vendor came through the door, as if on cue, and threw rose petals at the dancers.

There are tales of wealthy Arab emirs who send their servants to these streets near the Taxali Gate at night, ready to pay thousands of dollars to the mothers of the most beautiful girls in order to take them as concubines to the Gulf. It is the kind of story that young Kipling would have loved to check out, wandering these same back alleys as he often did.

”Our city, from the Taxila to the Delhi Gate . . . would yield a store of novels,” wrote Kipling, whose imperialism was tempered with a humanism and street-wise reporter’s knowledge of the East that many people today don’t give him credit for. And, particularly in ”Kim,” Kipling has created a sympathetic literary myth to go hand in hand with Lahore’s artistic pleasures. For me, the book was a perfect companion to a bewitching city. IF YOU GO

The entrance fee for the Lahore Museum and Akbar’s Fort is 22 cents for adults and 11 cents for children. It is open daily, except Saturday and the first Wednesday of each month, from 9 A.M. to 4 P.M. The Faqir Khana is open from 9:30 A.M. to 2 P.M. and from 2:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M. daily except Saturday. You can rent a car and driver from any of the main hotels for under $20 a day. Individual taxi rides run about $3 within the city limits and $5 to the airport.

Published in New York Times, Jan 29, 1989

The current social, economic, and political conditions prevailing in Pakistan have many similarities to those prevailing in pre-French Revolution, France.  Out of French Revolution came the great motto, embedded in the psyche of French people, “Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite,” Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. Equality. They did away with privilege.

To do this comparison, we have taken an article entitled The French Revolution: Pre-Revolutionary France, by Rick Brainard replaced words like France to Pakistan, French to Pakistani people, Louis XVI to Zardari and so forth. In the first Part, we show the original article.  In the second part we make the replacements. See what you think:

Part 1

The French Revolution: Pre-Revolutionary France
by Rick Brainard

The Declaration of Independence: A Transcription

IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.

The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,

When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.–That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.–Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.

He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice, by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harrass our people, and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For Quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial, from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies:
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws, and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our Coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages, whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.

In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.

Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.

The 56 signatures on the Declaration appear in the positions indicated:

Column 1
Georgia:
   Button Gwinnett
   Lyman Hall
   George Walton

Column 2
North Carolina:
   William Hooper
   Joseph Hewes
   John Penn
South Carolina:
   Edward Rutledge
   Thomas Heyward, Jr.
   Thomas Lynch, Jr.
   Arthur Middleton

Column 3
Massachusetts:
John Hancock
Maryland:
Samuel Chase
William Paca
Thomas Stone
Charles Carroll of Carrollton
Virginia:
George Wythe
Richard Henry Lee
Thomas Jefferson
Benjamin Harrison
Thomas Nelson, Jr.
Francis Lightfoot Lee
Carter Braxton

Column 4
Pennsylvania:
   Robert Morris
   Benjamin Rush
   Benjamin Franklin
   John Morton
   George Clymer
   James Smith
   George Taylor
   James Wilson
   George Ross
Delaware:
   Caesar Rodney
   George Read
   Thomas McKean

Column 5
New York:
   William Floyd
   Philip Livingston
   Francis Lewis
   Lewis Morris
New Jersey:
   Richard Stockton
   John Witherspoon
   Francis Hopkinson
   John Hart
   Abraham Clark

Column 6
New Hampshire:
   Josiah Bartlett
   William Whipple
Massachusetts:
   Samuel Adams
   John Adams
   Robert Treat Paine
   Elbridge Gerry
Rhode Island:
   Stephen Hopkins
   William Ellery
Connecticut:
   Roger Sherman
   Samuel Huntington
   William Williams
   Oliver Wolcott
New Hampshire:
   Matthew Thornton

The Ghosts of Gandamak

By WILLIAM DALRYMPLE in New York Times May 9, 2010