Re: [nukkad] DEVDAS etc , this morn tv

[tcmceus <>]

It seems that the passing times have taken away more than the
present times have delivered.

In Karachi of the olden times the first show in the afternoon on
every Sunday was reserved for women.

Then wives and matrons and mothers in law and sisters, women of
all models, sizes and shape, would come to the theater, this was the
Regal, built for the British Tommy, who used to live in the Cantonment
on the outskirts, but relegated to women on this particular day.

Women in sari, skirts, frocks, dresses of all kinds, would forge to the
place, and buy tickets at the stall, and venture to the food stalls, buy
full complement of peanuts roasted in shells, wafers of potatoes,
sugar cane fresh cut to chew able length, aerated drinks to taste.

When all were settled, the staff of very intimidated looking men would
go by the seats with flash lights, and be the victims of all kinds of
comments, some funny, some corrosive, some somewhat ribald,
the women seemed tough an aggressive, the men, finding themselves
in a bind, timid and conciliatory, having had the scars of skirmishes
on a weekly basis,

The show would start on the screen, the women swaying with the action.
weeping at the heroine jilted by the rich lord's son, the same son jeered
when he makes his appearance. Comedy brought laughter much like in
the common room of a boy's school, tragedy, moans and groans, love scenes
sighs of longing, "Naju, joni, joni, kevo mittho lagech. Salo maro Bomi to
kagra jevo che". And vocal admiration of the heroes with the well oiled
forelock.

The villain was reviled in language seamen would blush at, with very many
imaginative and colorful comments created ion the spur of the moment.

All along, there was the sound of peanuts shells crackling, sugar cane
munched into oblivion by tusks the Leviathan would envy, slurps of
soda in tandem with waves of tragedy. Comments were continuous,
and from all corners of the dark hall.

The staff of course, sensing the primeval nature of the population, would
walk out just as the curtain raised, appearing only in the interval when
there was light an safety,

There was the pair of large women in white saris, sisters, who were the
accepted Leaders of the pack. They were therefore the most noisy,
and equally voracious, as though in the week days they were denied
food or were on short rations, let loose to feed only on a weekly
basis.

When the show was over, the women would saunter out, with faces
showing the strain of emotions, with a shine which fine food taken
in tandem with tragedy brings.

Christian girls in dresses, Parsi women in saris, Bohri, Khoja, Hindu
and if you will believe it, Jews, there was a sizable community, all
walked home, some took the Victoria carriage driven by the dour Chacchi
from the north, who had cut his teeth on his native Seraiki, now conversing
in workable Gujerati with women settling the charge.

In Winter the streets were dark by the time the show was over. There never
was, repeat, never, any harassment of the women. All castes co mingled, 
walked
together in small groups, and reached home.

There was never one incident of communal ism, nor a comment of the 
inflammatory
kind. Never a woman was molested.

This became an institution, and continued. At time the women when
exiting met the British soldiery just going in for the English movie. 
What owuld
follow is a tale all its own.

Safe times, pleasant times, there was never a notion of Hindu or Moslem or
Jew or minority or caste.

But terrible clouds were gathering on the dark horizons. Hearts were turning
to religion as to rape and pillage. Long knives were being readied.

To unsuspecting souls, the stir in the wind, the far off roar, went 
unheard.

-- 
Arya-Holmes
Acufree.Com Inc
http://www.acu-free.com

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There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it. 
-Alfred Hitchcock, film-maker (1899-1980)
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