Letter From Lahore - December 20, 2002

It is an economic phenomenon unknown to the science of economics, and beyond the ken of any economist, including this one. And it is this. You talk to any businessman or shopkeeper, and make the mistake of asking him how business is, and he pulls a face as long as a size 11 shoe, the chin quivers, the eyes brim and he goes into this long spiel.

Business is lousy. He hasn't sold anything in months and is reduced to selling the wife's gold bangles to pay the staff.

And you talk to a common man and he pulls an even longer face. Things are so bad, and so pricey that the wife can't remember what new stuff looks like. For years she has been wrapping hand-me-downs and leftovers in cling film and used shopper bags and palming them off on the kids for their birthdays.

And yet, as any exhausted traffic policeman will tell you, for the entire Holy Month of Ramadan, Lahore has been one massive and permanent traffic jam. It wasn't people going to, or from work; nor a leisurely stroll to go visiting. It has been one great and frantic shopping spree. It was obvious that no one went home except for Sehree‚ and Iftaari; rest of the time they were on the road, stuck in the jam at a roundabout.

It all was summed up on Eid day. The Badshahi or Royal Mosque in Lahore was the largest in the world for two centuries, and still has the biggest congregation for Eid prayers in the city. This year, it was about twice as large as anything I can remember in the last 30 years. What is more, it was a curiously upbeat congregation. There is an aura of excitement and expectation which has nothing to do with the weather or with people's faith. Despite our habitual cribbing, there is a buzz in the air which is most heartening.

One can only conclude that it has something to do with our long-awaited brush with democracy; though one must also admit that the goings-on in the corridors of power, for the moment, is nothing to write home about.

There is the usual making and breaking of alliances which are incongruous to begin with. There are veiled threats and disguised temptations posing as political accommodation and healthy give and take.

All of it is, for the moment, restricted to the old faces and remnants of the ancient regimes‚ who are the only people who can get their picture in the papers with the old connections. The heartening thing is that there is a whole lot of new faces in the Assemblies who have yet to make their presence felt; and they will.

Among them is one large section which I hesitate to talk about because the last thing I wish to do is to sound flippant and frivolous. But talk I must. You see, even with the Senate not yet formed, there are 72 ladies among the elected members - and the plain truth is that about 65 of them are attractive!

But, as I say, it is not at all my intention to be frivolous, because in my view, our future hangs by this slender thread. There is an old tradition of political families here. Blissfully, it has taken a new turn - instead of loutish sons and villainous nephews taking over from the oldies, it is the bright and lovely young daughters and nieces. For the moment they are content to sit quietly and make no waves. But mark my words, their very presence will change the whole tone and timbre.

An early indication is the opening statement of the new Foreign Minister that the first priority of the new administration is to establish peace and friendship with our neighbours. I think an era of softness and sentimentality will be infinitely preferable to the male macho that has served as foreign affairs between us. It is a happy thought that the hand that rocks the cradle may be equally deft at steering the ship of state!