Many moons ago I had the pleasure of leaving with Syed Babar Ali from his Bazaar Hakeeman house in his car. As we drove along Kashmiri Bazaar he pointed out a shop saying “this is where I came to get a turban for the coronation of George in Minto Park, then called Company Bagh”.

The connection of SBA to the old walled city is almost a century old now. He still cherishes and contributes to its welfare and people. As we drove past the mosque of Wazir Khan I pointed out the work of the Aga Khan Trust in the Gali Surjan Singh demonstration project. He wanted to see it for himself. So we walked into the lane slowly observing the excellent conservation work. At the dead end an old woman saw us and invited him to rest in her house for a cup of tea. As he settled in on a charpoy in front of an open door, he commented: “What a peaceful friendly place, I wish I could live here”. It was unprompted from the heart. It were the feelings of a true Lahori connecting to his roots.

Just what is it about the old walled city that refuses to leave the inner soul of its dwellers? The stories and tales of past are countless, and all of them exist within the people of this unique city. My mother-in-law was a Kashmiri who participated in the pre-Partition election campaign of Mian Amiruddin against K.L. Gabba, his full name being Kanhiya Lala Gabba. After Partition he converted to Islam and became Khalid Latif Gabba and was elected to the Punjab Legislative Assembly. The verses recited by common folk during that campaign still live in the minds of old Lahoris.

One verse goes: “Wah bhai wah, wah bhai wah, Amir Din da kulcha tay Gabbay de chai, ulliwallay paisay nu lag gai hawa, wah bhai wah”. (Cheers for Mian Amiruddin’s ‘kulcha’ and Gabba’s tea, for their moulding money finally saw fresh air). An amazingly scathing and true comment about both the candidates. It truly reflected the politics of old Lahore.

K.L. Gabba in 1947 scared of the mobs migrated to India, but returned to Lahore after a month, saying “without Lahore I am nobody”. In his old age he again moved to India and died there. Khushwant Singh was to write: “If K.L. Gabba had died in Lahore, half the city would be at his funeral, instead not even half a dozen mourned his death”.

But the people of Lahore depended on the warmth and safety of their ‘mohallah’. It is the central ‘mohallay-dari’ that is the binding factor. If you walk along any bazaar of the old walled city, you will notice that at the end of almost every lane touching it is a milk shop, or a ‘hakeem’ shop. They were the people who, out of sheer logistics, kept an eyes on who came and left. They were a sort of guardians of the ‘mohallah’. When you went to buy ‘dahi’ or milk, mostly young boys were sent for such an errand, he would carefully ask a few questions and in return provide a small ‘jhunga’ (extra) of a sweet, ‘barfi’ in most cases. That made sure within every household there was competition to run errands.

But then they would also, rarely, approach the head of the household and whisper in his ear: “Keep an eye on so-and-so”. The ‘mohallah’ guardian had performed his role. If the head of the household ever said: “Sorry, but he is beyond me”, then rest assured the erring boy would be delivered a stern warning, and in a few cases a sound beating. That was enough for the errant youngster to fall in the eyes of everyone in the ‘mohallah’. I know of a case where a girl was followed by the ‘pehlwan’ who thrashed the interested boy.

To overcome this threat youngsters would communicate from high rooftops in a sign language. A very dear friend, a thin rather tanned chap, using long-distance sign language got a girl to agree to meet. Once the programme was set he got another friend - a fair tall Kashmiri - to go and meet her lest a bad impression was made on the maiden. Such was life in its simplicity in the old walled city. The stories are endless with each more enthralling than the other.

What went wrong with such a wonderful lifestyle? A very brief opinion is in order. Partition devastated old Lahore. Half the population left, and in their place, as my late father used to say, the ‘Claim Generation’ replaced them. What he was saying politely that the era of liars and tricksters had started. As the trading section of Shahalami was burnt down and major grain markets emptied, hundreds of Muslim traders mostly from Amritsar and nearby rushed in. Suddenly almost 60 per cent of old Lahore was taken over by traders.

But then the worse was to follow over two decades later when the Russians invaded Afghanistan. Suddenly hundreds of very cheap labour was available to these traders, who replaced the local population enticed by a good price for their houses. Today Pushto is a major language now besides Punjabi.

But the trading classes needed three major conditions to operate. They needed easy access for their goods to their shops, they needed a lot of space for their warehouses (godowns) and they needed cheap labour. For goods to flow fast they knocked down the walls of historic Lahore and created new gateways, like the 14thgateway at the end of Pappar Mandi. They purchased historic houses, knocked them down to build concrete warehouses. Then the Afghans provided the cheap labour they needed. They also promoted the Badami Bagh truck stand to create a massive traffic mess in Lahore.

Added to this outside the old city the newer housing schemes followed the ‘new rule’ of leaving space between housing. The traditional high-rise cluttered houses with the inner courtyard was lost. A new sub-culture because of this architectural misfit resulted in people not knowing their neighbours and restricted numbers. The family structure was hit hard, in most cases fractured. That lost culture of love and trust of neighbours has to be squarely blamed on the trading classes, who, ironically, themselves do not live in the old city.

What should be done? A major campaign should be undertaken to remove this 65 per cent trading ratio to the legally-binding 15pc. This is the rule (and law) all over the world. The major specialist wholesale markets should be removed across the river. Likewise the truck stand should be removed across the Ravi. It would not be a bad idea that instead of this Ravi Riverfront Project a new Walled Wholesale Market of Lahore with gateways and workers residences be constructed. Nearby a huge new truck and bus stand should be planned. This will allow the traffic mess of Lahore to be sorted out. The ancient walled city will regenerate to regain its lost glory as a major tourist centre.

If you visit Seville and Granada in Spain, as also Fez in Morocco, one can learn lessons. One thing is certain the present administrative dispensation cannot conserve this dream city. Traders will never allow the old wall to be rebuilt. Just like in days of past they can today be seen trying to get a trader back in power. The malaise is within. Better minds need to tackle this complex physical, economic, social and planning mismatch. But it will happen one day. The sooner the better.