The Opening Ceremony was followed by a brief but beautiful performance by Sheema Kirmani to the poetry of Fahmida Riaz, but the highlight of the evening was Dastangoi by Danish Husain and Darain Shahidi of India, and Fawad Khan and Nazrul Hasan of NAPA – a first of its kind cross-border collaboration for the telling of Tilism-e-Hoshruba. The words were simple, the delivery eloquent, the comic timing impeccable, and the overall result nothing short of brilliant.
Saturday began bright and sunny, and much too early apparently for most of the capital’s inhabitants, resulting in very low attendance in morning sessions. Unfortunately, this trend continued for the rest of the festival, with a much lower turnout than last year’s inaugural festival. Though the festival had grown this year in terms of what it was offering, with more sessions, an entire courtyard full of booksellers, and not one, but two separate spaces for art exhibitions. My Art World showcased the works of a number of contemporary Pakistani artists, while The Citizens Archive of Pakistan displayed a collection of vintage Pakistani advertisements from the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s. Yet the turnout stayed low throughout the festival. The atmosphere last year, just ahead of the May elections, was a lot more charged. This year the novelty had worn off and interest had waned.
[quote]Islamabad, must you make it so difficult to defend you?[/quote]
Nice going Islamabad. Must you make it so difficult to defend you?
Among the handful of interesting sessions this year were a few which discussed translations (of both poetry and prose), and whether it really is possible to transmit sentiments across languages. Waqas Khawaja spoke of how translation is harder than the ordinary creative process because it requires you to understand the author’s process and withhold your own, while still keeping the context of the original text alive.
The session by the makers of Zinda Bhaag saw a full house and an engaging conversation. It is not the filmmaker’s job to show “positive stories” only, we must present our stories as they are – good or bad, said Meenu Gaur. The session on Drama and the Small Screen with Sultana Siddiqui, Sarmad Khoosat, Sahira Kazmi and Asghar Nadeem Sayed saw an interesting debate on the quality of the content and production of television shows in Pakistan this year, and the constant depiction of weak women with no agency or depth of character.
Film screenings at ILF included a preview of Sarmad Khoosat’s film “Main Manto”, which tells the story of his struggles from 1951-55, and is definitely something to watch out for. Umar Riaz’s award-winning short film “Last Remarks” was also screened for the first time in Pakistan. Just 17 minutes long, it was arguably the best part of the entire festival. The film is about the last minutes of Arastu Jan’s life, a brown servant for a white man in India, while he waits for the poison he has consumed to take effect. As Zinda Bhaag director Farjad Nabi put it, oppressive silence was used brilliantly throughout the film. Partition narratives habitually focus on the Hindu-Muslim-Sikh dynamic, and very rarely bring the British into the mix. The film is brilliant in its depiction of the relationship between an Indian and a Brit, and how both are losing themselves in the turmoil of 1947 without fully realizing it.
There was of course the token Afpak session, where a bunch of elderly gentlemen proceeded to say nothing new. The session on Kargil on the other hand was fairly interesting. Or maybe it’s just a relatively unexplored topic as far as litfests are concerned and hasn’t yet been talked to death. It did however, start off with Ambassador Tariq Osman Hyder drily commenting, “I don’t know why this is a topic at the litfest, especially when we need to look ahead, not behind!”
The session titled “On the threshold of Ghalib” saw an almost full audience despite the oppressive heat in the central lawn. Bringing together the likes of Dr. Noman ul Haq and Rahat Kazmi to talk about Ghalib should have made for a brilliant session, had it not been for the constant fidget and chatter in the audience throughout. Perhaps the interest of the audience lay more in the star power of Rahat Kazmi than the words of Ghalib, a suspicion underscored by the mass exodus mid-session the minute he stepped off the podium.
The second installment of ILF was something of a disappointment compared to last year, and perhaps the ones to blame the most are the attendees. We are unable to appreciate art, culture and literature because we revel in the joy of chucking peanut packets off balconies onto unsuspecting heads; we rip off a part of an art exhibit just because we need a bit of paper to write on; and we’re terribly fond of the phrase “I don’t have a question, more of a comment actually”.
Saturday began bright and sunny, and much too early apparently for most of the capital’s inhabitants, resulting in very low attendance in morning sessions. Unfortunately, this trend continued for the rest of the festival, with a much lower turnout than last year’s inaugural festival. Though the festival had grown this year in terms of what it was offering, with more sessions, an entire courtyard full of booksellers, and not one, but two separate spaces for art exhibitions. My Art World showcased the works of a number of contemporary Pakistani artists, while The Citizens Archive of Pakistan displayed a collection of vintage Pakistani advertisements from the ‘50s, ‘60s and ‘70s. Yet the turnout stayed low throughout the festival. The atmosphere last year, just ahead of the May elections, was a lot more charged. This year the novelty had worn off and interest had waned.
[quote]Islamabad, must you make it so difficult to defend you?[/quote]
Nice going Islamabad. Must you make it so difficult to defend you?
Among the handful of interesting sessions this year were a few which discussed translations (of both poetry and prose), and whether it really is possible to transmit sentiments across languages. Waqas Khawaja spoke of how translation is harder than the ordinary creative process because it requires you to understand the author’s process and withhold your own, while still keeping the context of the original text alive.
The session by the makers of Zinda Bhaag saw a full house and an engaging conversation. It is not the filmmaker’s job to show “positive stories” only, we must present our stories as they are – good or bad, said Meenu Gaur. The session on Drama and the Small Screen with Sultana Siddiqui, Sarmad Khoosat, Sahira Kazmi and Asghar Nadeem Sayed saw an interesting debate on the quality of the content and production of television shows in Pakistan this year, and the constant depiction of weak women with no agency or depth of character.
Film screenings at ILF included a preview of Sarmad Khoosat’s film “Main Manto”, which tells the story of his struggles from 1951-55, and is definitely something to watch out for. Umar Riaz’s award-winning short film “Last Remarks” was also screened for the first time in Pakistan. Just 17 minutes long, it was arguably the best part of the entire festival. The film is about the last minutes of Arastu Jan’s life, a brown servant for a white man in India, while he waits for the poison he has consumed to take effect. As Zinda Bhaag director Farjad Nabi put it, oppressive silence was used brilliantly throughout the film. Partition narratives habitually focus on the Hindu-Muslim-Sikh dynamic, and very rarely bring the British into the mix. The film is brilliant in its depiction of the relationship between an Indian and a Brit, and how both are losing themselves in the turmoil of 1947 without fully realizing it.
There was of course the token Afpak session, where a bunch of elderly gentlemen proceeded to say nothing new. The session on Kargil on the other hand was fairly interesting. Or maybe it’s just a relatively unexplored topic as far as litfests are concerned and hasn’t yet been talked to death. It did however, start off with Ambassador Tariq Osman Hyder drily commenting, “I don’t know why this is a topic at the litfest, especially when we need to look ahead, not behind!”
The session titled “On the threshold of Ghalib” saw an almost full audience despite the oppressive heat in the central lawn. Bringing together the likes of Dr. Noman ul Haq and Rahat Kazmi to talk about Ghalib should have made for a brilliant session, had it not been for the constant fidget and chatter in the audience throughout. Perhaps the interest of the audience lay more in the star power of Rahat Kazmi than the words of Ghalib, a suspicion underscored by the mass exodus mid-session the minute he stepped off the podium.
The second installment of ILF was something of a disappointment compared to last year, and perhaps the ones to blame the most are the attendees. We are unable to appreciate art, culture and literature because we revel in the joy of chucking peanut packets off balconies onto unsuspecting heads; we rip off a part of an art exhibit just because we need a bit of paper to write on; and we’re terribly fond of the phrase “I don’t have a question, more of a comment actually”.