DOES KARACHI INVEST IN COMMUNITY SPACES?

From Zelin’s Coffee House around Victoria and Bunder Road, to Café Parisian, and the Irani tea houses — Karachi’s coffee and tea houses were once home to the city’s writers, poets, artists, students and anyone who wanted to strike up a conversation or read a newspaper. They weren’t mere tea or coffee houses but rather spaces that reflected the city’s diverse political, intellectual and cultural landscape. The city’s mohallas [neighbourhoods] were vibrant spaces of interaction that brought people together, unlike today’s grid systems, gated communities and myriad of apartment complexes that have created a strong disconnect.

The streets of Lyari would see baithaks/mehfils [gatherings] in the evenings, while houses in PECHS would host mushairas. These small exchanges compounded into an ecosystem of interconnectivity and culture that was formalised in the institutional growth of the 1960s, with spaces such as the Rangoonwala Community Centre opening their doors for the public to have a space dedicated to this form of socialisation.

Local and migrant cultures have shaped Karachi’s landscape — it has always been a city of arrival, with migrants’ relocation coloured by dreams of a better life, whether that came with a job or the buzzing environment that the city promised. This dream was taken up by the city of the past as clubs and cinemas opened their doors to the ever-growing public, and jazz bands and artists flourished due to the encouragement that the people gave them. In its true fashion as the city of arrival, Karachi gave its people the agency to define its spaces.

A DREAM DESTROYED

With the rise of Islamisation shutting down the nightlife of the city, and political violence marring its streets, a slow downward spiral began. Gen Ziaul Haq fortified this disconnect with Karachi’s past during his reign — the combination of the Hudood Ordinances and increased surveillance of public spaces fortified censorship and stifled dialogue in universities and other intellectual spaces, divorcing knowledge from broader socio-political contexts.

Communal spaces and projects have played a historic role in uniting Karachi’s diverse population — creating platforms to interact with the very people we share the city with. But, in the wake of rampant violence and political plays to consolidate power, the city has lost its connection to these spaces and the enrichment they brought

The advent of violence in different parts of Karachi led to the political robbery of community centres after they were used as polling stations, thus changing people’s engagement with the idea of ‘shared’ spaces permanently. There was no longer a ‘third space’ that you could loiter in and occupy — or at least not one that was accessible to all. The normalisation of this lifestyle created a perpetual image of Karachi as a fast-paced, metropolitan city where culture and preservation have ‘never taken root.’ And one continues to witness this kind of control and change of landscape in various areas, such as changing the future of Frere Hall Gardens, where the decision of fencing is still a constant advocacy — where, through the narrative of securitisation and surveillance, the future leans towards protecting from loitering.

While some citizens may remember what Karachi was and everything it once stood for, there are limitations to what memory can do. The present lack of community spaces prevents the experience and connection necessary for people to understand their importance, perpetuating the narrative that these spaces are a ‘luxury.’ These spaces are an integral part of an urban landscape, as The Second Floor’s (T2F) founder Sabeen Mahmud put it, “How could we become agents of social change if our theatre practitioners had no rehearsal spaces, if our underground musicians had no venues to perform in, if our emerging artists had nowhere to hang their work? How could creative dissidents even learn of each other’s existence, let alone build and cultivate a community, without physical spaces where people could talk politics?” In simpler terms, these spaces serve as a ‘living room’ for society, creating opportunities for interaction and loitering in a city that thrives on its diversity.

Importantly, they also serve as a means of intellectual investment. By bringing in people from different walks of life, one can curate conversations and understanding regarding the issues that plague our society from perspectives one may not have considered otherwise. This notion is compounded when you connect it to institutions that are built to foster inquisitiveness, such as museums, galleries and libraries that people can feel connected to. Having spaces for dialogue, interaction, or simply to sit and take in the city are important because they build a connection to the city we inhabit and the people we share it with. Karachi is desperately in need of a revival of such spaces.

As a heritage advocate and practitioner, I struggle in understanding the on-the-ground ideology and lack of commitment to preserve. One understands that this situation that Karachi finds itself in, one of constant decay and disregard, is the result of multiple issues — stretching from governmental neglect, lack of cultural and preservation-related investment in the city, leading to how we have normalised the lack of historical and cultural spaces. Karachi is constantly commercialising its main arteries through dozens of restaurants and increased commercial chaos. However, there are hardly any cultural centres that are catering to the needs of these neighbourhoods.

PROBLEMS WITH INFRASTRUCTURE

The lack of infrastructural support from the government........

© Dawn (Magazines)

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