What Samadhi?

JULY 2001 - A news item the other day lamenting the sad state of Sir Ganga Ram’s samadhi in the great city of Lahore where live the ‘Zindadillanay’ – the much celebrated people with noble hearts, should come as no surprise to any one any more. This self-awarded title proves nothing because were it even half true, the falling samadhi and other relics of our past, would not face the threat of extinction, which they do presently.

We have a strange sort of relationship with history, often ending up disowning it or remaining mixed up whether it has something to do with us. It is not monuments that belong to those who professed faiths other than ours that now receive our full neglect, but even those that are ‘ours’. All across the country where history as ancient as the hills stares us vacantly in the face, there are monuments, buildings and artifacts that cry out for attention, which can be restored with minimal effort and expense. While we continue to squander billions on trash that erects one grotesque structure after another and blights the landscape, the elegant and beautiful past receives not even a passing glance. In that, the gross meanness of spirit that Lahoris have displayed towards the decline of the samadhi is fully reflected by residents of other cities and other areas.

Perhaps anything that is older than yesterday doesn’t quite interest us and we believe in living only for the present and that to, preferably by stabbing the person next to us, clambering over his prostrate body and demolishing the next one, so that very soon we are three feet and more over the ground. Some years ago, passing bridge after bridge on the KKH built by the Chinese and the Pakistan Army, it was amazing to observe the beheading of dozens of ceremonial lion heads that adorned both sides of the bridges. The Chinese had obviously set them there with much pomp and show. While the KKH was very much there, the lions, wonderful icons of a race that helped us build one of the world’s greatest roads, had been vandalized by our people. To what purpose? Did the actual breaking of the lion head provide pleasure and happiness to those who did so and countless others who must have watched this savagery or been a part of it? Having broken them, what was next on the agenda? Throw the small pieces of rubble into the raging river below or were we telling the Chinese how much we appreciated their help? And how come there was no one to stop this vandalism bridge after bridge? It might not be an exaggeration to believe that breaking the lion heads might well have been regarded as some kind of local festival or the likeness of the stone statues might have been offensive to the beards, graven images and the like being to them what oil is to fire. I am sure the Chinese were very grateful. Louts are louts many would say and what do they understand of other people’s culture but go to any monument that is still upright and you would find the country’s literates have been there and left their mark.

What else can explain learning that Abdul Shakoor and his brother Ahmed Shakoor, of La Kurti, Rawalpindi were indeed at Ketas three years ago on a March day? Their visit is recorded forever in stone so to speak, driven into the centuries old walls, an act preceded or followed surely by another national pastime – urinating or defecating or both at places like Ketas. It is not the sheep that do it – they have better civic sense and use the countryside – no it is the folk who tend the sheep and, since there are few of them and more of the local tourists, it is the latter always. It is not possible to survive Ketas or dozens of other historical sites without a handkerchief – or a fast dash through the area taking care not to step into the generous amounts of deposits left by the defecators. It would seem that like little children who can be made to do the ‘little job’ simply by making the sounds, something triggers off rapid bowel movements inside our people the second they are inside an old building – if it is Hindu or Buddhist origin, even better. Those who stave off this great urge must feel the muse is upon them for they waste no time in taking stone to hand and carving their visit, which generations hundreds of years later will read and be awe struck that Abdul Shakoor was actually here accompanied by his brother.

In the Salt Range which still has, one is happy to report, quite a bit of salt, there are the remains of a garden laid out by the Mughal emperor Babur in the early 16th century, but what must have once been a splendid and sweeping garden is now reduced to what you would find with a 5 marla plot. Knowing a bit about the Mughals it is hard to believe that the emperor asked his officials to build him a rabbit patch, which he could then officially commemorate. Some kind of stone plaque remains as do weeds, grass, a few wild and stubborn flowers, goat droppings and the like completing the happy picture. A few miles further up, the majestic temple at Malot has been more or less, brought down to ground, vandalized and destroyed with no one to protect the remains leave alone, restore it. That it commands a breathtaking view of the Punjab plains – and perhaps the reason why it was built here in the first place is still the ownership of the temple but little else remains. In a few years it probably will simply disappear.

Which brings us back to the samadhi of the man who built the Ganga Ram hospital and left it for us. It is a bit ridiculous to put down on paper the millions who have benefited from this wonderful hospital, which in spite of its horrendous problems and trials, still exists and continues to provide healing and relief to patients and acts as a resource center for thousands of doctors who learn their skills here and go on to become big names, here and abroad. After Sir Ganga Ram, many doctors and administrators have lived and worked here and contributed in ways to continue the spirit that created the hospital in the first instance – all of them, at least those who are alive and well, owe a debt to the memory of the man with whose name they were associated. Surely were just the doctors to pool together the necessary funds, the students currently studying there adding their bit, enough resources can be generated to restore the samadhi. It is not a difficult task and it won’t bring back the lions on the KKH bridges or erase the offensive graffiti at Ketas, but it is one action taken in the interest of the future that can only be assured by respecting the past. Having said that, the chances of such an unlikely fundraiser are highly unlikely. Even a concert – the nation’s current elixir for raising funds, can do the trick but who is motivated enough to take the necessary steps? Not the doctors who have appointments running six months deep. Not the students who couldn’t give a damn and not the government that is broke as usual. Perhaps Mr. Vajpayee may include it in his agenda and like the Indians spruced up the neharwali haveli, the great Ganga Ram’s final resting place will receive some courtesy as well.