Sindhis are no doubt the most culture conscious people in Pakistan. It won’t be wrong to describe them as the cultural vanguard of the country that has fervently upheld the cause of indigenous cultures and languages. They were the people after the Bengalis of erstwhile East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) who saw through ideological ruses employed by the state and the establishment to wean the peoples of Pakistan from their ancient roots in the name of faith-based nationalism and Muslim culture inspired by the aristocracy of mediaeval times. The former has already failed in the Middle East and the latter is little more than an odd melange of alien Central Asian traditions and moribund rites and rituals of Brahmanism of the Gangetic plains.

Whether it’s dress or mannerism, language or rituals, what is being dished out as national culture in Pakistan undeniably bears Indian imprint. Not that we share nothing with India. The point is that Harappa civilization/Indus valley civilization though fountainhead of Indian civilization is in a significant way different from Brahman dominated Indian civilization that developed later in the valleys of the rivers Ganges and Yamuna.

Isn’t it eerily unsettling that Pakistani state on the one hand wants to keep a safe distance from all things Indian and, on the other, appropriates culture and language solidly rooted in Indian soil as its ideological identity and distinguishing mark?

Sindhis in the erstwhile West Pakistan were the first to refuse to buy such claptrap. They have rightly insisted and still insist that they inherit an ancient culture and a living language which they are rightly proud of. Simple question is: what is left of Pakistan’s culture if we deny the existence of cultures of Sindh, Baluchistan, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Punjab and Northern Areas? What makes Pakistan’s culture if not the historical entities that constitute it? Is Pakistan different from its actual constituents? These are straight questions and need straight answers. We must not allow the politically sensitive issue of culture to be some rigmarole by confounding it. That state institutions, Punjabi and Muhajir elites have caused this obfuscation is too obvious a fact to be reiterated. Sindhis, Pakhtuns and Balochs have in fact played little role in pushing the country away from its roots by jettisoning its historically evolved rich indigenous cultural assets. Pakhtuns and Balochs haven’t done much to assert their cultural identity and linguistic rights. They of course love their cultures and are quite unlike Punjabis who are full of self-loathing when it comes to Punjab’s culture and language. But they too have hitherto failed to develop their languages and introduce them in schools and colleges for educational purposes.

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In the country’s cultural landscapes marked by colours of indifference Sindhis are an exception. Their response to the cultural situation exacerbated by the swelling population of Urdu-speaking Muhajirs, Punjabis and Pakhtuns in their cities has been swift and decisive: Sindh’s identity would be kept intact despite the changing demographics. Sindhis seem to have the patina of success; they frequently display the relevance of their ancient culture they shared with Punjab by celebrating what it offers in terms of cultural and linguistic products.

The Sindh Cultural Day was celebrated last week with a lot of fanfare. People from top to bottom in the social and class hierarchy participated in it in different ways. This time the highlight was the stress on the cultural significance of “Ajrak and Topi”(wrap and cap), the mark of traditional Sindhi dress. Some may argue that “Ajrak” and “Topi” are no doubt a legacy but they are no longer part of the everyday dress of forward-looking Sindhis in urban centres.

“Topi” has Baloch origins but has been appropriated by Sindhis to the extent that it now looks indigenous. The fact tells us about the influence the Baloch tribes settled in Sindh exercise and how their interaction with local people has shaped the contours of modern socio-cultural life in Sindh. Some people definitely see “Wrap” and “Cap”as an anachronism, but the things certainly have a symbolic value and make a political statement which is lost on none especially the ones who make culture policy in Islamabad, our beautiful cultural wasteland.

Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari celebrated the occasion here in Lahore in the safe environs of a fortress-like gargantuan palace where ordinary mortals, “Awam” in his party’s lingo, fear to tread. He, evidence shows, finds donning “Ajrak” and “Topi” easier than speaking the Sindhi language.

Bilawal, a nova adored by workers of his party who sadly are in dwindling number, perhaps forgot to remind his party leaders from Punjab how alienated they had been from their language and culture. There was an urgent need to rub it in. Biggies from Punjab who surrounded Bilawal with their freshly bought “Sindhi Ajrak” and “Topi” did not grasp the significance their young leader was hinting at. Leaders of People’s Party from Punjab would never dare to do a political act of owning their language and culture if not forced. They like stalwarts of Pakistan Muslim League (N) are brain dead when it comes to people’s culture and language. Strangely in the matters of culture what is kosher in Sindh is non-kosher in Punjab. It will create some political space for Bilawal if he doesn’t allow his lieutenants in Punjab to lead him down a garden path into believing that there is no need to own and rejuvenate people’s language and culture, the dynamic assets that are testimony to the creative power the people of Punjab are endowed with.— soofi01@hotmail.com