Author: Masood Hasan
Publication: The Jang
Date: February 22, 2004
Expecting Lahoris to exhibit cultured
behaviour is like asking hippos to do ballet. It is simply inconceivable.
On Friday night, at Jagjit Singh's first public concert, the Lahoris gathered
for the event, behaved atrociously throughout the hours that Jagjit continued
to sing. The event, a high-priced affair at the upcoming golf facility
extravaganza, the supposed cream of Lahore society armed with blonde-streaked
hairdos and mobile phones, tramped around like restless, neurotic bed bugs.
Whatever hopes anyone might have had that there is still some iota of good
taste and good sense in our urban society, was put to the sword within
three short hours.
In the end it did not matter that
Jagjit Singh was singing. Had it been an artist far lower than him, the
attitude of the 'select' audience would have been the same. Had Streisand
or Sinatra been singing - not that they would have continued for more than
ten minutes, given the boorish behaviour of those who had decked themselves
out for the evening, the end result would still have been the same. In
fact, other than the atrocious behaviour, so was the pricing. It is, of
course, a matter of conjecture as to how many of the 2-3 thousand 'music
lovers', as they are euphemistically called, had actually paid for the
event. At Rs. 6,000 a go, it was murder. If my math were right, that would
translate as Rs. 12,000 a couple. In dollar terms, since that seems to
be the country's all time favourite currency, that is about US$ 200. Even
by US standards - and we are a grovelling it is a pretty steep price. In
any event, when you pay $200 you don't get to spend your time with yahoos.
Throw in the tepid and tasteless food that the organizers had laid out,
still didn't square the equation. Eating it was a bit of a struggle. What
was special was the opportunity to hear the sub-continental crooner in
person, but nothing went right.
The setting of the club is scenic,
largely because the landscape is dotted with ancient trees, planted by
a generation which valued planting trees, not chopping them. This gave
the venue a great ambience. For some reason, best known to the organizers,
who optimistically named themselves as Vision 2015 (does that mean it will
take them till 2015 to have a vision?), the concert, a sit down affair,
was right out in the open. That may be very well, if it was a rock concert,
smack in the middle of a balmy spring evening or early summer. By 10 at
night, Lahore is still chilly. Since there was no hint in the elaborate
(read huge) card, guests were poorly clad for the evening. The function
started only 30 minutes late, which given our tradition of such events
was a surprise. Have we lost this glorious tradition, as well? The organizers
obviously had most of everything, except the one thing that mattered -
Vision. Had they but paid the slightest attention to detail, they would
have known that the kind of singing style Jagjit Singh has requires an
intimate and personal setting. You need to be physically in a confined
area, not on the sweeping greens of a golf course, and when distances are
large, you use screens to capture those who can barely spot the singer.
The absence of any tentage, to cover the cold from permeating into every
body, didn' t permeate the vision of the visionaries. Instead, the official
story doing the rounds was that there originally was a 'roof tent' but
it had 'blown away' during high winds that very afternoon! Strange things
indeed happen in the Republic. The hot coffee helped, but unless you could
soak in a tub-full of it, the warmth didn't last long.
Jagjit was freezing, as were the
others. Musicians cannot perform in cold weather. Their instruments are
tightly strung and the cold affects it. Fingers go numb and even singing
is an effort, particularly when you are not prancing around on the stage
like a deranged monkey. He performed bravely, as did his companions, but
the mehfil never took off. With wide open spaces and seating stretching
to the 8th hole and a pokey sound system that was adequate, not brilliant,
the rapport that is so essential in such musical exchange between performer
and audience, never materialized. All these factors could have been neutralized
had the Lahoris behaved. It is my firm conviction that inside the pants
of every red blooded Lahori, male or female, reside armies of ants, bugs,
leeches and whatever else that gives you a rash. They simply cannot sit
still. Up and down, here and there, this way then that, they simply cannot
stay put. They are genetically incapable of it. There was a traffic surge
all around the venue that began an hour before the concert and continued
right through. All Lahoris seem to spend all their time and energy at such
functions to catch up with friends, relatives and acquaintances. People
think nothing of standing in the aisles chattering away, happily oblivious
of the fact that they are blocking the view and the music. They chatter
on, exchanging news, mostly gossip or other trivia without shame. Jagjit
admonished the Lahoris, saying he had heard great praise about them, but
even that didn't shame the charlatans, who simply carried on as before.
What is this? Have they seen each
other after a decade? It was obvious that Jagjit was downed by this surfing
that would not stop. After a while, the mobiles, initially switched off,
came on and people plunged hither and yon when the little monster sang
them nursery rhymes. As is the done thing now, the millisecond mobiles
beep, people seem to be hit with a 440-volt zapper and jerking up like
a coiled spring unleashed, they rush away. With so many socialites in the
throes of ecstasy, there was commotion, a mini stampede on the fringes
of the show and all around. In between, other than those who sat patiently
through and tried their best to enjoy the show, the VIP movement never
stopped. Super star Resham - no Audrey Hepburn she, behaved like the trollop
that she is. Sad that such 'celebs' as her don't realize how important
it is that they behave well in public outings. Dressed more for a live
performance of her own, than to attend a recital, she mounted her mobile
and God having blessed her with a voice that is fast approaching that of
a bull frog with a bad throat, she continued to make a spectacle of herself
as she mobile-hunted for a companion lost at the show. Stares from all
around had the least effect on her. Others, PYTs as they are called, both
sexes, behaved badly, chattering, guffawing, laughing, shouting, disturbing
dozens of listeners without feeling any embarrassment. When someone yelled
'Shut up', a young thing yelled back, 'You shut up'. Wonderful!
The truth is that we have lost it.
The 'educated' classes are boors. They might look good in their designer
togs, but even basic etiquette and social behaviour is absent from their
arsenal. This is the new Pakistan. Brash, cocky, vulgar and senile. Even
if one accepts that at social outings, people largely go to see and be
seen, there is still a minimal standard of behaviour that any reasonably
socially advanced society expects. We are human beings, not baboons, though
I apologise to all right-minded baboons. We had good breeding in ample
quantity at one time. Now, we don't. We don't read, we don't think too
deeply on any thing and we think nothing of misbehaving. This may be a
society in flux but it is a flux that stinks. At such functions, I guess,
class shows. Sorry Jagjit. You deserved better.
(The writer is a Lahore-based columnist
and a well-known journalist masood_news@hotmail.com)
