Common People or the Mango Ones

Prior to leaving Houston ‘for good’ and relocating to Karachi, perhaps 'for good', I was asked by several well wishers to keep up with my blog. They specifically wanted me to write from and about Karachi. Knowing well that I would neither delve into politics nor religion, some still asked, “Why don’t you write about politics in Karachi”, while others persisted, “Asad, why don’t you write about the religion of Karachi, especially during the month of fasting?” 

If the number of Facebook likes and comments on anything related to politics or religion is a fair gauge then one might conclude that those are the only two scintillating topics worthy of expression in words.

“If I take away both religion and politics prevalent in Karachi, then what am I left with to ramble about?” I asked myself.

Normally I call upon the muses to assist me in finding something interesting to write about.

This time around was no different. 

Today marked week two of relocation to Karachi from Houston, after fifteen years in the latter metropolis. The muses revealed to me that I ought to focus my rambly writing effort on the common people of Karachi. Per common parlance, in the vernacular, ‘aam log’ are ‘the common people’. The same phrase aam log could also refer to ‘the mango people’, as the literal Urdu translation of ‘aam’ can be either common or mango, depending on context...or spelling. The muses made it harder for me by not clarifying which one to explore and express, therefore I attempted to write about both. 

Eastern languages can be quite intriguing that way – presumably there is no connection between the words ‘common’ and ‘mango’. Yet, when I scratched the surface, I came across a striking commonality. What’s the relationship between the common people and the mango ones, you might ask. Furthermore, where does one go to figure this out? This will become more apparent to you, as well as its significance, if you keep on reading.

My answers were obtained at ‘Itwaar’ (Sunday) Bazaar - of all the places in Karachi. This Bazaar is a phenomenon that might be unique to Karachi, although even if it’s not, it’s a highly developed ritual and institution for that huge unruly megapolis. I have seen the Bazaar morph and evolve over the past two decades – the time span that I have frequented it. Set up on the holy Sabbath as it’s name suggests, the Bazaar is an amazing marketplace that fuses the novelty of a quaint thrift store with that of a dumpy flea market.

The common people or aam log that throng Sunday Bazaar come in all colors, shapes and sizes. The Bazaar brings together people from all socioeconomic strata, as well as from all ethnicities and cultures. One group in particular, beautiful blue-eyed children, likely of Afghan or Hazara descent, seem quite happy in spite of lugging heavy loads to the cars of the common people. Over the past few years I have also come across many ‘goras’ (whites), that can be Caucasians, Orientals, or just fair skinned people from Northern Pakistan, at times indistinguishable from the true gora sahib.

The same people, again regardless of socio-cultural or religio-political distinctions, become the mango people or aam log when they congregate at the mango stalls in the fruits and vegetable section of the Bazaar. This, of course, tends to happen only when mangos are available during the summer season. The mangos appear as diverse as the common people, when you take the fruits’ names, birth place, status, shape and size into consideration.

I would speculate that the people that you see at the Bazaar subscribe to varying political and religious ideologies, although when focused on buying goods no one really cares about such divisions. Everyone seems content with this consumer approach to life. Haggling for the best price notwithstanding, the people at the Bazaar seem most thrilled picking the choicest mangos for their families.

There is a common and universal element to marketplaces everywhere, whether in Karachi, or a mall or flea market in Houston, London, or Hong Kong. Human beings have always been attracted to the purchase or exchange of wares and goods. Consumerism and entrepreneurship are a part of every culture, it seems, transcending political, religious, ethnic, or other obstacles that otherwise divide us. 

Perhaps the stress and anxiety stemming from lawlessness in the presumably volatile and anarchic city transiently take a back seat when Karachi’s people descend on Sunday Bazaar. It is then that the common and mango people truly become one – and that’s when Karachi itself is transcended.

[from the Karachi-Houston Diaries]

Acknowledgment: This article was first published by the Houston Inner Looper Newspaper (August 2013).