PART-4: NED NOSTALGIA (1978-83)

Section C

Don’t remember how many of us were in Section C but I do remember from the daily class attendance that Muhammad Ali and Sharafat had starting roll numbers of 131 and 132 (or 133) respectively. Likewise, last roll number ran into 190s but I can still reminisce roll #186, belonging to Fiaz Shah. He had a peculiar voice of uttering 186 during class attendance that everyone would throw a smile or grin about it. Sharafat, the devil, would eagerly wait for such an uttering and burst into laughter while pressing his palm against his wide opened mouth.

Section C was a place of assorted group of students. It was truly an AWAMI class. Some Karachiites whose merit stood at last numbers but still making into NED, some on Sindh quota (came from Mehran Engg Univ), two on Karachi rural seats namely Ali Sher and Ghulam Muhammad, two on NED Founders quota (Jamsheed Mehta and perhaps, Adil Irani), Balochistan quota, Army parental quota (Husnain Baqar), some seats on BSc basis, others came through topping in 3-year Diplomas, and two students namely Abbas and Ghulam Hussain from Iran. It’s worth mentioning that in late 1970-80s foreign students from many countries used to come to Pakistan for higher studies, like: Iran, Turkey, Jordan, Syria, Palestine, Africa, Thailand, Nepal, and Malaysia, etc.

Two main student political parties named Islami Jamiat Tulba (IJT) and Progressive Students Federation (PSF) greeted us in the campus. IJT was a conservative organization with a signature slogan: Asia Sabz Hae (Asia is green) while PSF with three slogans: Asia Surkh Hae (Asia is red), NED for NEDians and Build a Better NED. While National Students Federation (NSF) was around for its namesake and All Pakistan Muhajir Students Association (APMSO) was in a nuptial stage. Office bearers/ workers of both mainstream parties i.e. IJT and PSF helped us in getting copies of handout-notes, previous class-notes, lists of books and syllabus and most importantly gave us an unambiguous declaration and assurance that our degree would be awarded on the basis of final year examination (last two semesters i.e. 7^th & 8^th) only. Intrinsically it meant that we could waste our time on extracurricular activities for three consecutive years and dig our face in academic books in the final year only. I partly blame them for ruining my precious three years literally.

Both IJT and PSF threw welcome parties for us. One fine evening IJT arranged it at NED old (city) campus. During the party the IJT organizers announced a contest called: Who’s the most handsome boy in the entire batch (Section C, perhaps). Some were shortlisted but Ubaid won the contest with clear margin. Ubaid was a real handsome boy; tall, white, hairy (balding too), friendly and well mannered person. Only disadvantage that broke my heart about him; he was Jamaitiya (belong to IJT)). He was wealthy Masha’Allah but never appeared or behaved like rich and snob people. Hasnain Baqar was the second smartest and handsome guy of our class after Ubaid. Once I took a short ride in Ubaid’s Mercedes air-conditioned car on campus. It was simply fabulous. Another rich, wealthy and dancing friend was Sarwat. He could fractionally speak Sindhi as well because he lived in Hyderabad and owned agriculture lands in the interior of Sindh. Nevertheless, when it comes to real good informal friends from Karachi, Babar and Ahmad Salam spearheaded my list and became instant friends.

I happen to have a keen eye at observing people and things. It still works sharply, even with fading eyesight now. I would observe every person i.e. their apparel, how they walked, spoke/ conversed, played cricket, spent time at canteen, and sat on steps in aisle in front of girls’ common room. Similarly, who wore dirty shoes, beamed about their biceps, unkempt books, wore un-pressed clothes (not jeans), would hardly brush their teeth and even stunk when breathed near you.

It confused me a lot during early days of NED as to why all of the nominees from Balochistan were not in one Section. Some influential and wealthy hailing from Quetta city were in Section A while poor coming from rural Balochistan were our classmates in Section C.

A few words about late Abdullah Rajar:

During my first week in NED as I was strolling around canteen Abdullah shouted at me:

Aray Aijaz, are you busy?

No, I said.

Have you been to Karachi University? He again asked.

No. Never.

Then let’s go there, you’ll enjoy the trip. He said.

While in his Mark-II car, he said; you seem to be a handsome boy, any girlfriends?

I shrank in the front seat and shyly uttered; no.

Have you had drinks ever? He kept asking difficult questions.

No., Never even seen in life. I again disappointed him.

Koi cigarette, soota shoota, Kuchh tu kya hoga? He started showing restlessness and annoyance.

Ji, nothing like that. I replied embarrassingly.

Yaar, your life is absolutely dull and devoid of any excitement and adventure. Do something about it, you’ll have ample opportunity here.

We went to the Arts Faculty, had soft drinks, watched and stalked girls around, chatted on boring topics and returned. That was my first and last one-to-one interaction ever with Abdullah.

Later, I learned that he hailed from a wealthy wadera family. He was a bit fat but sturdy and assertive young man. Besides, he was an interesting speaker with rich knowledge of politics, culture, religion, rural n urban lifestyles, and of course, girls. The only field where I found myself superior to him was academic studies.

Our first year Class Representative (CR) was Nasir who won on a PSF seat but later joined Mechanical Department. In second year, Abdullah contested CR election of Section C. He was popular in class due to his extracurricular activities, though he attended the class infrequently. Nevertheless, he managed to win it with a narrow margin predominantly with Sindhi vote bank and became CR.

Much later, after NED times, our common friends informed me that he had had troubled last years of his life and he would often speak of his death lurking around anytime. Eventually, he met a tragic death in June 1999 (Rest in Jannah).

Section C Continues ….

PART-3: NED NOSTALGIA (1978-83)

Katchery Road, Karachi

Katchery Road is comparatively short commercial stretch of about 300-400 meters connecting two important and busy and commercial arteries of downtown Karachi i.e. M. A. Jinnah Road on one end and Shahrah-e-Liaquat on other. It used to have shops selling tricycles and bicycles for children. In South direction, on M. A. Jinnah Road, was located a famous “Lighthouse” Cinema (must’ve been demolished and replaced by commercial plaza by now). Behind it was (is) famous Lunda Bazaar for secondhand clothing and other household stuff and equipment. Along Lunda Bazaar was (is!) a “Paper Market” from where we used to buy (in weight, units) imported computer paper rolls (available for dot matrix printers) for our classwork notes etc. It was cheaper and its quality was superior to local paper for preparing assignments and class notes. In North direction, just across Shahrah-e-Liaquat lies famous Pakistan Chowk. Old NED Campus, Mitha Ram Hostel and famous & historic D.J. Science College are all located in the vicinity of Pakistan Chowk.

Our flat was situated almost at a corner of Shahrah-e-Liaquat and Katchery Road, therefore, it suited us to catch a point bus to and from NED at any hour. The flat was kind of an office whose two rooms were interconnected in series i.e. one room opening into another, while small kitchen and a washroom were located on a side wing of building separately from the flat. On M. A. Jinnah Road, in the left direction towards Tower/ Kaemari, and just opposite the grand KMC building was located an old Hindu Temple named Sri Swaminarayan Temple. While in right direction on M. A. Jinnah Road, beyond Dow Medical College, Jinnah Cloth Market/ Urdu Bazar and Radio Pakistan buildings, near Tibat Center was our main attraction for opting to live at Katchery Road: Cinemas, a lot of cinema houses. All newly released Pakistani Urdu and Hollywood English films were shown in these cinema houses. We watched plenty of new movies during our one-month long stay at Katchery Road, especially last late-night shows on weekends. The interesting thing to share is that we would always split while reaching at Tibat Center, would go to our respective cinema houses for watching our favorite films (I preferred English action movies, Ashok was fond of Urdu films). After watching films we would gather at some predefined meeting point and return back to our residence.

During our first week of stay at Katchery Road in August 1978 the monsoon played havoc with Karachi one night. The downpour was so heavy and unprecedented that it made devastating effects with huge lives and property losses. While at Katchery Road, the fasting month of Ramazan just begun. Living with a non-fasting Bengali and Ashok, and with no arrangements for Sehr and Iftaar I didn’t find it convincing and convenient to perform fasting.

So what we usually did during Ramazan was; after returning from NED everyday in the afternoon we would run to the Temple where a small restaurant was set for fulfilling and serving the vegetarian Hindu visitors. Ashok would ask me not to identify my religion and stay silent in the queue. He would do all the talking with them and that way we used to fill our tummies at lunch. Somehow owner of the restaurant observed that he was feeding more Muslims than Hindus at lunch hours. He therefore, one day, placed a staff member on checking the identities of customers who would ask for the name of customers before allowing them to buy food. I was caught red-handed and removed from the queue. Embarrassed and shameful I returned from the Temple, more starving. Nevertheless, an hour later I was enjoying omelet with bread at the flat that I prepared myself, first time ever in my life, after buying the food items from the bakery downstairs. I never tried to visit the temple at lunchtime in Ramazan anymore. Nevertheless, I continued to have supper there after Iftaar, normally Daal Chaawal with PapaR.

We would take some time to study in the afternoons and evenings doing our class assignments, however, it was hard to comprehend and complete the homework on our own. Hence, we would often catch an afternoon point bus and visit NED hostels to learn from classmates who used to reside there. In doing so we would also have had dinner in the hostel mess as guests. Eventually we would be coming back to Katchery Road in the last point bus that used to ply at 10 pm from NED to Pakistan Chowk and it would return to NED again at 1130 pm.

As our weekend nights were fixed for watching cinemas, we used to return home at midnight. On return, we would find one of the rooms of flat occupied with Bengali boy’s friends (all hailing from Memon business community residing in the vicinity, chewing Paan and Gutka in abundance) who would play cards and make noise till wee hours of next morning.

During the first semester we found Engineering Drawings as one of the tough subjects because like our other classmates we did not learn it during our early education. Since we joined late we also missed initial classes of it, thereby basic concepts like how to draw elevations, plans and especially cutting and drawing their sections. Similarly, we missed getting information about types of drawing lines, and use of different pencils and their grades according to the hardness or softness.

We bought drawing boards, T-squares, Set Squares and other pertinent drawing related equipment from Shamsi Store located near Habib Bank Plaza and started making drawings’ assignment. My first sketch was a disaster. I drew sidelines/ boundaries of an object as centerline (combination of hyphens plus dots instead of continuous dark line). Our teacher named Mr. Iqbal Khatri (as I vaguely recall) put a big cross over my drawing with blue ballpoint pen and said: Drawing is language of an engineer. If you can’t understand ABC of drawings, you can’t move ahead in civil engineering. 

Continued in Part 4: Section C ….

PART-2: NED NOSTALGIA (1978-83)

Enter NED

Just how did it happen that I made it into NED?

NED and Mehran had an arrangement between two institutions that both would reciprocate 30 students upon admission every year. Logically, all top students from the interior Sindh (sans if any opted otherwise) and all bottom students would go (sent forcibly, perhaps) to NED. But, what happened till 1977 was that 30 influential (politically or other means) and desiring students from interior Sindh would manage to get themselves transferred to NED, and similar number of desiring (if any) students from NED would be sent to Mehran. Generally cursed but lucky for us that General Ziaul Haque imposed martial law in the country in 1977 toppling the democratic but troubled Bhutto government. And it paved the way for 30 students from the interior Sindh to make an entry at NED. These 30 seats were distributed to all districts of interior Sindh. From Larkana I, Ashok and Aslam Khan had the honours of going to NED. Don’t remember all 30 names but some top students were: Mukesh (topped in the entire Hyderabad Board) and Iqbal from Nawabshah, Abdul Ahad, Sharafat Ali and Ishrat Hussain (late), Suleman Khoja and Asif Tajik from Hyderabad, Aslam Ansari, Tariq Panhwar and Sheraz Memon from Dadu, Mumtaz Memon and Aleem Soomro from Moro, Mukesh and Indar Lal (late) from Jacobabad, Abdullah Rajar (late), Nasir Jaleel and Aziz Memon from Mirpurkhas, Asghar Ali (late) from Khairpur and Mohammad Ali from Badin, etc., who made it into NED in 1978.

Ashok’s father was in the film distribution business and therefore he used to travel frequently between Larkana and Karachi. He had a rented small 2-room office cum apartment for this purpose on Kachehry Road (linking Liaquat Road near Pakistan Chowk on one end and M. A. Jinnah Road near Lighthouse Cinema on other end). A Bengali young boy employed by Ashok’s father used to take care of this flat. We landed in the afternoon directly from visiting the Registrar office Mehran University Jamshoro. We already had gathered information that a point bus runs from Old Campus of NED at about 0700 am in the morning for the new campus located on University Road.

Next morning we were sitting in the bus silently and sheepishly lacking even a shred of confidence and wearing formal dress; shirts that were not tucked into bell-bottom pants. Karachiites sitting around us were informal with most of them wearing colourful T-shirts and jeans. They looked brimming with confidence while chatting with each other about homework, assignments, cricket, etc. They were carrying engineering textbooks, folded drawing sheets, and T-square. This made us under pressure since we knew that our session had already started about a month ago. Very few students used to carry shoulder bags or backpacks during 1978. Almost all would carry textbooks, notebooks and copies weighing 5 to 10 kg in their hands. Some would wrap a strand around them to prevent from falling/ slipping down and scattering on the ground.

The first sight of NED was unforgettable and romancing. I was awestruck with the architectural design of the campus. It looked like an “oasis in the desert”. Huge open spaces all around the small cluster of beautiful buildings looked enchanting. The arrangement of classes, departments (Civil, Electrical and Mechanical only), a gigantic auditorium, a centrally located fountain surrounded by square-shaped large open area made NED a beautiful campus. Similarly, impressive Admn block, workshops & laboratories, a canteen, and most importantly, a centrally located “Girls Common Room” are also worth mentioning. The location and design of J-shaped four hostels (J-1 to J-4) with large green areas around and within were immaculate too. Perhaps it was mid August of 1978 when we alighted from the point bus and set our feet on the campus. Everything in and around NED campus looked beautiful and enchanting in a perfect cloudy weather with cool sea breeze blowing at a high velocity. It was so windy that boys had to control flying long hair with their respective palms and girls would be grabbing their dupattas tightly on their chests as well as trying unsuccessfully to pull down their shirts flying up to their waists.

Decades later, while celebrating Silver Jubilee reunion of our batch in 2008 we gathered again at NED and took a bus ride in and around the campus. It was indeed a heartbreaking moment; additional construction for creating more departments, classes, facilities, etc., had ruined beauty of the campus. Expansion is good but it should have been properly designed. The essence of campus’ beauty should have been kept intact.

Our admission process completed in a day; processing done in the haunted-like Mohammad Bin Qasim (MBQ)-2 hostel whose ground floor was used for admission office whereas two top floors remained deserted or sparsely occupied. MBQ-1 was however fully occupied with boarders. We were advised to attend the classes immediately. Out of 30 applicants coming from the interior Sindh, each of the 10 students bunch was admitted to Civil, Electrical and Mechanical disciplines respectively. We, I and Ashok went to Civil Department on our choice. I was assigned 163 Roll Number and Ashok, 164 according to alphabetical order. We were advised to attend Section C class.

We also got enrolled for hostel accommodation. We both were allotted room # 13 on sharing basis on ground floor in the long wing in J-1. (Living in this long wing was exciting and fun too. I would explain about it in some other ensuing “Part”). However, Mr. Nauman (Elect Deptt), the Warden of the hostel informed us that the out-going senior batch was in the process of vacating the hostels therefore, it would take a month to get possession of your room. Alternatively, he recommended that if we wished to shift in the hostel immediately we could share a big study room on top floor of the hostel where 10 or so other hostel accommodation aspirants were already perched in. We opted to live rather at Katchery Road, Karachi city for a month, for reasons other than studies. Continued….

NED NOSTALGIA (1978-83)

Part-1: Pre-NED

My first son would become Doctor and second one an Engineer; father used to utter this phrase every now and then in front of my mother while strolling from one end to the other of our living cum bed room measuring 20 by 24 feet, and especially when we used to be around there. He had been a Patwari in Revenue Department, Govt of Sindh but forcedly retired in early Z.A. Bhutto era. Therefore, he had a fair idea of the power, authority and wealth earned through serving as an Engineer in the Irrigation Department. Similarly he also had a good idea about importance of becoming a Doctor. To achieve this goal he allocated some money for our tuition expenses in order for us to improve on our studies for getting high marks in the exams. We all wished including our mother who prayed that his dream comes true. It was in 1975 when I joined Govt Degree College, Larkana for doing two years Intermediate studies in pre-engineering. Better standing in the exams would send me in Mehran Engineering University, and bad score would dump me in Sindh University. Whatever the case, I was destined to land in windy Jamshoro, a university town with three universities; engineering, pure sciences & social sciences, and medicines. My elder brother was a year ahead in college doing Intermediate in pre-medical and according to our father he was all set to join Chandka Medical College, Larkana in late 1977.

Our education from class - 1 to 10 in Sindhi medium (including all science subjects in Sindhi too) had been a comparatively smooth sailing. Getting a second division in matriculation exam was considered a respectable score in mid 1970s. I managed to get first division with 63% marks only but still it was a matter of celebration at home, and with classmates and friends. Parents expected to repeat the same feat in intermediate exam too. However, English medium from class -11 onwards was altogether a daunting task.

Our pre-engineering class (only one in the entire Larkana district) had exactly 100 students, with almost half of them commuting from outskirts and nearby villages and towns on daily basis. Students belonging to Hindu and Shaikh families always dominated in terms of intelligence and hard working (as well as cramming) respectively. Don’t remember exactly their combined strength in the class but must not be less than 15-20 numbers. They were the source of excellent exam notes because of their relations with senior students from the same community. The syllabus, especially science subjects, was hardly covered 50% in the class in both first and second year respectively. All had to rely on tuitions and exam notes prepared by classmates and obtained from senior students. The guess papers and guidebooks were not readily available during that era.

The results of my first-year exam and my elder brother’s second-year exam were not a surprise for us; our marks stood in top second-class category i.e. less than 60%. Parents were indeed petrified from shock on our unsatisfactory standing. Brother opted to take another shot at the exams by repeating all first and second year subjects together next year. I took my brother’s unsatisfactory score as an inspiration to put in extra efforts and time in the second year exam. Doing so, I cut on my time spent on going to cinemas for watching Pakistani and Hollywood “action” movies by opting out of former movies only. Similarly weekends’ time spent on playing cricket couldn’t be compromised either and I continued enjoyed wasting time on playing cricket. Meanwhile I kept taking Mathematics tuition in the second year as I did in the first year.

Our results of second year exam came in mid 1978. We ran early morning to the Railway Station to buy a copy of Sindhi newspaper from the train that brought our results from Hyderabad. Luckily, we, both brothers, stood in first divisions with nearly identical score of 62% marks. Only 3, including me, out of 100 students from the whole Larkana district achieved this feat i.e. securing first division in pre-engineering exam. My parents were extremely happy with our achievements. They could now visualize their dreams coming true.

After having crossed the mammoth hurdle of intermediate exams, the way forward looked an easy ride. Soon after, I submitted the application for admission in Civil Engineering Department of Mehran Engineering University, Jamshoro and waited anxiously for an interview call. The wait was not long though. In July 1978, we received calls to appear for interview at Jamshoro Campus. While getting ready for the day, I came across a senior student of Mehran University who informed me that since I had obtained good score in the intermediate exam therefore I stood a chance of transfer to NED University of Engineering and Technology, Karachi. For that matter he advised me to submit an application for transfer to NED during the interview. I followed his advice and submitted a hand written application that I wanted to go to NED for studies.

A fortnight later, a telegram arrived at my home address that read: REPORT FOR ADMISSION AT NED. This five worded short sentence danced before my eyes. I don’t remember how many times I read this small piece of paper strip. While I was undergoing euphoria of going to Karachi for studies and having merry moments with family, my classmate Ashok Kumar knocked on the door panting and brimming with ecstasy, carrying similar telegram.

Now, the funny side; some wise senior friends interpreted the telegram as: REPORT (To Mehran Univ) FOR ADMISSION AT NED, and therefore advised us accordingly i.e. go to Mehran University Jamshoro for onward admission in NED. Later in the evening, we followed the free and precious advisory service, boarded the night passenger train and arrived at the administrative block of Mehran University early morning next day before they could open the office. We met the Registrar upon his arrival in office and showed him our telegrams. He just threw a mocking smile at us and ordered: Go and join NED. Continued….

Part IX - My Adolescence Memoirs - Larkana in 1970s

One of my classmates of secondary school Mr. Khadim Hussain Surahio, a down to earth friend had his shop near Tonga Stand, less than 5 minutes walk from my house. His father used to sell colourful Azaar-bands (belts for shalwar/pajama), colorful traditional Parandah (hair braids), and toiletries etc. After the school Khadim would go directly to his shop to replace his father and run it for rest of the day. In the summer afternoons we (me, Owais Laghari, Najeeb Bhutto, Nazir Shaikh, Aijaz Jamali and many others) would gather there for a cup of tea and gossipping till Khadim pulled down the shutters after maghrib prayers.

Late in the evenings after dinner, people would throng to Railway Station for a stroll, to breathe in fresh cool air and enjoy watching the sight of Bolan Mail (an express train running between Karachi and Quetta via Larkana). Bolan Mail heading to Quetta would usually reach here at about 9.30 pm, make a 20 minute stop for filling water tanks of passenger cars. Those who needed cool breeze and enjoyed the view of trains would climb up the pedestrian/passenger bridge built over the top of tracks connecting two platforms. Rest would wander on platforms from one end to other; creating congestion and inconvenience for genuine passengers. Nobody would buy a platform ticket and railways authorities wouldn’t stop/ check these people from roaming the railway station for hours.

Other people would take a round of the old town; circling a distance of about 3-4 kilometers connecting Pakistan Chowk (the most public place for shopping), Machhi (Fish/Meat) Market, Empire and Nigar Cinemas, Jailus Bazaar, Bank Square, Shahi Bazaar, Tonga Stand and back to Pakistan Chowk (Anti-clockwise stroll). Other route for walking was from Jinnah Bagh Gate at Station road, Ghintee Phaatak, Christian Colony, Sir Shahnawaz Bhutto Library, VIP Road, Al-Murtaza House, Stadium, Municipal School, Qaim Ali Shah Bukhari, Girls college/school and back to Jinnah Bagh (walking clockwise). After having taken stroll, all young would converge to Shalimar Restaurant for a cup of Tea (usually called Dooth-Patti or Maggo Chai) at the entrance of Larkana Railway Station. In 1970s, sub-urban areas named Waleed, Murad Wahan, Rehmat Pur etc. were considered as surrounding villages. Now they are part of Larkana city. Lahori Muhalla, Dari and Rially Bagh areas were and are part and parcel of Larkana.

It was in 1974 when Larkana was brimming with international guests during 2^nd Islamic Summit held at Lahore during Z. A. Bhutto as Prime Minister of Pakistan era. I remember vividly that after arriving in the school, we were taken to the adjacent VIP road to line up and greet the international guests/heads of States passing in large motorcades and heading to Al-Murtaza, the Bhutto House. While clapping we saw and greeted all leaders of Muslim world notably King Faisal, Yasir Arafat, Col Gaddafi, Raza Shah Pehlvi, Anwar Sadat, Idi Amin, etc. Rumour was rife that all renowned, young and hot contemporary lady film stars of Pakistan film industry were also in Larkana to entertain the foreign guests/ dignitaries. 

A new Bus Stand was built at the toe of Larkana Stadium in 1970s in Bhutto's era which later proved congested and under capacity due to large number of buses plying in and out of Larkana to surrounding towns. Ultimately it was shifted to city outskirts, at its current location. During Bhutto era, construction of massive civil works were undertaken to beautify the city; all roads, water supply and sewerage lines, new bus stand, new Railway Station, gas supply in the city, two towers; one called; Soekarno (now Sukarno) Memorial near Al-Murtaza House intersection and Ata Turk Memorial at Bakrani Road roundabout were also built. This changed the old town into a modern city. Large scale development works in Larkana proved thorn in the eyes of other political parties and the matter echoed as "Paris of Pakistan" within the walls of parliament house in Islamabad. Mr. Z A Bhutto had to deliver a speech on the floor of parliament defending his modernisation plan of Larkana that all the development works were needed to meet the demand of increasing population.  Nevertheless, the tag of Paris on Larkana proved a curse on the city in the following years because whatever funds allocated to rehabilitate and modernize the city by every successive PPP (Pakistan People’s Party) Govt. were plundered and embezzled with, and the city remains in shambles, even today.

The link road connecting Royal-Station Road and Civil Hospital Road separating Govt Girls High School and Jinnah Bagh was also built in 1970s. The so-called shrine existing on right side at the end of link road near Civil Hospital Road (between Civil Hospital Road and railway line) is of a beggar (a fat one) who used to beg alms along the link road. We always used to see him begging on our way to school and back to home. Word is that this chubby beggar was run over by a moving train and friends/drug addicts/peddlers of beggar found it golden opportunity to bury him here to make a den, convert it into a shrine and earn money befooling peasants. They succeeded.

1972-75 was a real flourishing period for Sindhi language and culture. New Sindhi newspapers, magazines, novels, Autobiographies (translated from other languages), travelogues (by famous Altaf Shaikh, a marine engineer), short stories and children books could be seen on the bookstalls all around Sindh. I remember being member of a children committee running under a Sindhi Children Magazine called “Gulan Jehra Barira” meaning “Flowers-like children”. Such committees existed in almost all cities and towns of Sindh. It was a period when Sindhi dramas also started appearing on state run Pakistan Television. Who can forget charming actress Ghazala Rafiq, handsome Iqbal Tareen and Qurban Jillani, entertaining Manzoor Qureshi, singing maestros Muhammad Yousaf, Allan Faqeer, Ustad Juman and actress cum singer Zareena Baloch, etc. Later, many other Sindhi programs on music, literature, Sindhi culture (Syed Saleh Muhammad Shah’s famous “Kachehree” program) sitcoms, etc. were also added.

Some renowned eateries of Larkana in 70s include the Duleep Sweets (already mentioned), Mao (a kind of khoya or halwa made from pure milk and sugar) of Ratodero, Falooda Ice-cream of Jhalliyun-waro Hotel (A restaurant with hand-pulled makeshift ceiling fans), MullaaN Sholay-Dahi-Barre waro, Mangal Behan Waro (A Hindu named Mangal selling roasted lotus roots prepared in earthen pot) on Bakrani Road, Abbas Karhai, Al-Madina Hotel, and Sambara Inn for elite and wealthy people.

Jummo Faqeer (beggar) is worth mentioning too. A beggar named Jummo (or Jumma; Islamic day for Friday) was known to almost everyone in the city streets with his peculiarity; an untidy old man wearing many layers of cloths and riding a short (dwarf) donkey, with his feet touching almost to the ground. People, mostly shopkeepers would give him alms while Jummo kept riding the donkey. A story is famous in Larkana that once the sitting Prime Minister of Pakistan Mr. Z.A. Bhutto stopped by him, gave 100 Rupees to Jummo Faqeer and asked in return for prayers. Jummo grinned and said: What dua you needed from me, you are already ruling the country! Are you vying to take my seat? Bhutto just laughed back at him.