No one does it better than Lahore. Give it a chance; it will dazzle you with its abundance of spirit, its love for all things good, its responsiveness to new ideas, its heartfelt nostalgia for the old, its craving for the stimulation to the mind, its appreciation of the splendid. The three days of the literary festival displayed all that and much more in a multi-hued plethora, and here is a big shout-out to Lahore, followed by another one to the organisers of the literary extravaganza that deserves all kind of praise.

Where do I begin? For a book-lover like me, it was like being an entertainment-starved country child who was given a three-day, full-access-to-all-rides pass to the Disney Land…the real one in Orlando…and high on too much candy. Lahore Literary Festival (LLF) was held on February 21-23 at the Alhamra Art Centre, organised by Newsweek, Pakistan, in collaboration with many other you-could-not-guess-but-deep-down-literary-minded companies. The sessions started on time, and the volunteers -- countless, very gracious, very attentive teenagers -- ensured people were ushered in, and stopped, with apologetic smiles when there was no place to usher them into. Punctuality was (surprise) strictly enforced, to the dismay of many of the page three used-to-being-fashionably-late-self-pronounced social celebrities. The days were gloriously Lahori: breezy, nippy, sunny, occasionally overcast, with a dimly-lit sky shadowing the red-bricked edifice of the Alhamra, one of the most splendid creations of one of the most eminent architects of Pakistan, Nayyar Ali Dada. The audience was varied, of all shapes, sizes, ages, backgrounds, tastes, and all had one thing in common: the very obvious delight at being at the LLF, where I felt like that starry-eyed child, all smiles, all giggly. Yes, this is what literary stuff does to me. Invariably. Always.

There were three days, four auditoriums, 65 (yes 65) sessions, 135 guests (my counting sucks), and dozens of moderators (better than giving a wrong number, I presume), and four sessions (mostly) going on simultaneously. And man, was that a bummer or not. Yes, I made sure my boots were flat-heeled (fashionably so), and my recent aerobics sessions made my dash from one hall to another (mercifully) easy without me gasping for breath, but my book-loving soul was at a crossroads. Like constantly. This session or that session was my perpetual to-be-or-not-to-be, but instead of resorting to Eenie Meenie Mynie Moe, I stopped wishing to be in four different places at one time, and became a tad more dignified about my movement. Regretting missing many, I focused on the ones I wanted to attend the most, and what a delightful time I had the three days I attended the LLF2014.

The first day started with can’t-miss-any-session childish enthusiasm, and the first session I attended was with the soft-spoken, very popular Vikram Seth, of A Suitable Boy and An Equal Music, with an equally soft-spoken Nasreen Rehman. Seth talked about his books, his family’s stories mixing with some of his, and the audience loved him. Not very impressed with my greed to gulp all I could without enjoying anything in full, inwardly scolding myself, I found a place in the second hall where the very impressive panel of F S Aijazuddi, Aitzaz Ahsan, Pran Neville, Khaled Ahmed, moderated by Majeed Sheikh was almost over. The subject was…OMG…what the title of my article (almost) is…(I cross my heart I didn’t know.) Oh well, all of us Lahorites think there is no city like Lahore when it comes to the nurturing and appreciation of all forms of art…at least this side of the world. Then I dashed to the Karachi session with the writers Saba Imtiaz (whose book Karachi, You are Killing Me has created quite a buzz), Bilal Tanweer ( The Scatter Here is Too Great) and Omar Shahid Hamid ( The Prisoner) in conversation with H M Naqvi ( Homeboy) about the backdrop of their novels, the nostalgia about the Karachi of yore, and their undisguised love for Karachi that is.

As I met, hugged and hello-ed many friends, acquaintances and even strangers (duh, I’m one of those weird Pakistanis who greet strangers too…mostly women though), had some water, exhaled, and accompanied by this or that friend, I managed to finally pace my homage to literature. Listening to Zia Mohhyeddin was a joy, who recited poetry, anecdote-d and joked, and rolling-his-eyes at the stereotypical recitation of poetry, he reiterated once again why he is one of a kind when it comes to making Urdu poetry enliven when the recitation is his. Zehra Nigah, the incomparable artist of words, was the moderator.

Listening to Vali Nasr, one of the voices I admire from the US on the region I live connected to – the Middle East – on the ifs, whats, buts, hows of the US policy here, there, and everywhere, in conversation with one of our most noted historians Ayesha Jalal, I was struck by one thought: phew, the US is sure doing a lot of explaining everywhere, if the sole superpower is being questioned as The Dispensable Nation. This is the title of Nasr’s new book, which he signed for many, as he posed for several pictures, and answered all sorts of questions with a very gracious smile.

The evening ended with a performance by the magnificent Naheed Siddiqi. And what a visual treat that was. Siddiqui’s Katthak transposed the cold evening into an exquisite realm as Lahore sat rapt, enthralled, mesemrised. I had unshed tears in my eyes as I watched her stand in one place, her movements embodying a world within them...fluid, airy, expressive, expansive. With the slightest of motions she displayed a variation of emotions that required no words and no translator. Lahore’s very emphatic response to her beautiful dance performance was the clear sign of how works of art transcends all cultural and traditional taboos, uniting people in their appreciation of the universality of beauty that exists sans borders.

My second day (reached late) started with Vikram Seth’s session with Ahmed Fareed who talked about prose, poetry, music, and their subliminal and obvious links to the worlds around us. Seth, as always, was treated like a celebrity -- of the literary kind -- by the gushing crowd.

I just finished reading Ahmed Rashid’s riveting, chilling account of many entities’ Descent into Chaos, and Taliban (books my erudite editor told me to read ages ago…Sorry, you know what a slow learner I am). And who better to talk about Afghanistan than Rashid in Pakistan today with the American writer, academic (John Hopkins University), former US Special Representative to Pak-Afghanistan, the brilliant Vali Nasr. The discussion was enlightening and depressing (alas) in its depiction of the status quo of the chaos in Afghanistan.

Mira Nair and Mohsin Hamid, the director-writer team of the internationally acclaimed book-turned-into-movie The Reluctant Fundamentalist talked to Rachel Dwyer about how the staid book delicately, thoughtfully and delightfully turned into a very fine movie, with the inclusion of stuff that made it more Pakistani, more relevant today.

Then came Jugnu Mohsin with Ali Aftab to discuss her very politically incorrect satirical pieces in The Friday Times, which have targeted many big political names, ribbing them mercilessly (albeit well-intentioned, in the words of the satirist) on the very seriousness with which they take themselves, without fooling anyone. Mohsin is a super mimic; that I found out that day, and boy, o, boy, did she bring the house down or not. Her imitation of Benazir Bhutto was spot-on, and the stories she told had everyone in splits. Her imitations and tales of how Nawaz Sharif took ages to accept that satire was only on ‘important leaders’, how Imran Khan shrugged all her Howzzats with a ‘oh -yaar’, and why she has never satirised the good old Altaf Hussain were a fun-filled loss of all who missed the session.

One of the best sessions was on Afghanistan’s very precarious situation with my former editor and brilliant (yes, it’s my pet word for all whom I find…very smart. They can be counted in single digits, so no sniggering. Okay, maybe a dozen.), Rashed Rahman. There was the former foreign minister, the very lovely, the very dynamic Hina Rabbani Khar; the very accomplished former Pakistan ambassador to the US, Maleeha Lodhi, and my two latest favourite writers: Vali Nasr and Ahmed Rashid. No punches held, the talk covered it all: the coulda-shoulda-woulda of the Pakistan-US-Afghanistan’s narratives since 9/11 happened, and the world saw the WOT being unleashed. The discussion was tightly moderated by Rahman, ensuring all the panelists stuck to the topic instead of going on their own tangents. Hey, you have no idea how big a possibility that is when the panel consists of none but brilliant people.

Darn; now that brings me to my urgent question to my readers: could you send me some synonyms for ‘brilliant’, please? ASAP? My address is given below.

(To be continued)

Frome : Daily Times March 02, 2014