Monday 29th August 1994 - Final Day In Lahore

8.25am - The journal says that the weather on that day was just the opposite to the day previous with the sun out and no clouds at all in the sky. I sat down in Faletti's restaurant wondering how long I would be waiting to get served when someone appeared at once to ask me what I would like. There were only a few others in there, not exactly a rush job. That day was to be my last in Lahore and then I would say farewell to Pir Mahroof's 'guides' and be on a very early morning flight back to Karachi on my own again.

I wrote that I was definitely ready for home since I had seen quite enough of Pakistan to know I never wished to return. In total honesty the country and its ways had intimidated me far, far more than any other place I had been before or have been since.

At 11.25am we were sitting in the lovely Shalimar Bagh Gardens in Lahore. We were sitting under a tree next to some fruit sellers. There seemed to be hundreds of people there since it was such a glorious day. I wrote how refreshing it was at last to see so many girls and women wearing beautiful shalwar kameez. It reminded me of Eid celebrations at Pollard Park back in Bradford when the children would come in clothes of their own choice. In all of my stay to that point I had not seen as many girls and women out together as on that day.

My journal said that earlier that morning I had spoken to the tourist information people at my hotel, Faletti's about safety in Lahore. He tried to reassure me that it was safe and we talked about Pakistan in general too. He spoke excellent English and I mentioned that he spoke in a very fair, unbiased way too.

That got me to thinking that my hosts were probably moving around with unnecessary caution. Were other people reacting to THEM because of their beards and Bazme Naushia topis? I wondered whether, over the time I had spent in my host's company, I had been reacting to THEIR perception given that they all live in a fairly closed Islamic institution. That, I will never know and is mere speculation.

I do know that they were constantly praising Nawaz Sharif and mocking Benazir Bhutto. I kept on wanting to tell them how wrong I thought the traditional treatment of women was. Of course I did no such thing but kept my feelings repressed. I had bought a book back in Karachi about Quaid-e-Azam and I had looked at it the night previous. There was a quote about how much he abhorred the abuse of women and the position they had been given in society.

This is a link to an article about Quaid-e-Azam and the role of women.

I had asked to go to Lahore Railway Station since I was interested in relics of the Raj. Like all such stations in India/Pakistan, Lahore was a large neo-gothic structure designed to impress, and it did! My journal records that we spent quite a long time on the platforms soaking in the atmosphere. I then wrote that I observed a most unusual sight, a cretin in the true biological sense of the word. In the west people with this kind of disability are hidden away but in places such as Pakistan they are not. He was sitting with his mother and had the most abnormal tiny head I had ever seen. It was way out of proportion with the rest of his body and, from his behaviour, he was severely mentally handicapped as part of the condition. India had prepared me for such sights but it was still shocking to me, a westerner not used to such things!

The station was, I wrote, rather similar to Columbo in Sri Lanka but on a much grander scale although not as large as VT in Mumbai, India. Like these places Lahore Station oozed atmosphere. I even saw an original set of Avery weighing scales made in Birmingham. Oh the joy of historical discovery!

From the station we went off to the Mosque of Wazir Khan. This one was a real jem! The journal says that, in a shrine underneath the floor, we met a Shia Muslim who spoke superb English. The diary says we spoke briefly about Barelvi sufism but records no more than that.

For my very last piece of Lahore sight-seeing it was off to the Anarkali Bazaar where we had some samosas in a tiny, cramped little place behind some shops and stalls. I noted that only one 'grubby little glass' was placed on the table to share communally. I didn't avail myself since my insides were still highly delicate! On the way through the bazaar I noticed some stunning posters of Quaid-e-Azam and his sister Fatima for RS10 each. I apparently bought two of each for my clasroom display. I must have chatted a little to the manager since he was telling me all about his travels round the world in excellent English.

My next entry was at 4.50pm and it states that we had been back in the room for over an hour and the Maulana was flat out on the other bed snoring away. Qari Sahib and Mabashir were glued to the TV since they did not have a set back in Dina. They were totally transfixed to it. When the TV news came on they turned up the volume even more.

At 7.25 I was in Faletti's restaurant again and, says my journal, there were more people in there than I'd seen before. The service was slow once more. I ordered fresh lime for RS35 whereupon I actually got a quarter glass of lime juice!

My hosts were going to come and collect me at 8.30 the next day and take me to Lahore International Airport. They said we would be at the airport by 9.00am. I didn't really want to leave it that late but, I was completely in their hands and had to adhere to the social etiquette. I hate 'goodbyes' and was dreading the moment since I always feel so clumsy and rather shy. I was also extremely frustrated that I had not felt able to talk to them about issues I really wanted to know about for fear of offending. I noted that Mobashir wasn't actually as mature as I first thought he was when I first met all the boys who were very much on their best behaviour. Silly little things would come into his head and he was very much obsessed by Kung Fu, guns and firearms.