READING

BY: Nasser Yousaf

LETTERS AND SERMONS

The properties of ink are peculiar and contradictory: it may be used to make reputations and unmake them; to blacken them and to make them white; but it is most generally and acceptably employed as a mortar to bind together the stones of an edifice of fame, and as a whitewash to conceal afterward the rascal quality of the material.

Ambrose Bierce (1842-1914)pp

The above quote recently popped up in one of the websites that I frequently visit. It may have a very subtle relevance to what I wish to discuss here.

I loved reading newspapers from a very early age. My love for reading literature sprang up from following stories in the children's section. This passion led me to reading and writing letters, especially those penned by the ordinary folks.

One of the most unforgettable and touching letters that I ever found and read was in a book titled 'THE OXFORD BOOK OF LETTERS.' It was written by a woman in the Victorian era, perhaps to her immediate family, in which she had narrated the agony and trauma of having undergone a double mastectomy surgery.

Times have changed. Reading and writing letters is a passé. It is very unlikely that someone in the present age will now go to the Peshawar Archives Library, look for that book, and pick it up. People have more urgent matters to attend to.

Sermons-writing, on the other hand, continues with an even greater flourish. It is not the most commonly known religious sermon that one would like to refer to; it is the one that we find in editorials and newspaper columns. 

We have seen all different types of crops of sermon-writers in Pakistan. The knee-jerk types who can hardly wait for a bullet to leave the barrel before they file a story to a newspaper. Those having retired from the civil or military service and having got themselves a weekly slot in the newspapers. The out of touch with the real world armchair intellectuals. Those wishing to use their articles as their recommendation letters and waiting in the wings to hop on the bandwagon by grabbing a choicest position in the government.

Pakistan has seen and experienced the net worth of all these different types of dispassionate writers. Quite a few of them got themselves the ambassadorial robes, others found themselves snugly settled in the public sector departments and organizations. Unfortunately, none of them left indelible marks in the areas that they worked in.

Such people could best be described as critics with no substance. They use the power of the glib and pen as sheer nuisance value. In their interviews, they are seen sitting in their studies with bookshelves full of books in the background.

One such gentleman got himself a very prestigious and lucrative position as the chairman of the country's revenue department. He had absolutely no experience of how a government department functioned except as an outsider. A few months into the job and he quit feigning interference. He has now relegated himself to giving interviews on podcasts and YouTube.

A few months ago, the Government of Pakistan appointed two columnists to a committee tasked with downsizing or rightsizing (a mouth-watering cliché) of the bureaucratic machinery. The two gentlemen have been writing scathing critiques on the country's economy and everything that ails it for as long as one remembers. 

Again, the two columnists had no experience of how things worked, or didn't, in the officialdom. One of them has since quit citing unfathomable reasons, and his video talks are now being bandied about on the e-machines.

What makes us useful to the society is our knowledge of how the proletariat, those languishing at the lower tier bide their time and how they manage to find their piece of bread. This knowledge is not available in the voluminous books and tomes lying on our shelves.

Scientist in Pakistan, as perhaps elsewhere, brandish their knowledge of science only to ridicule the clergy. Some of them are literally pompous to a degree. Their research and experiment appear to be focused more on pooh-poohing the clergy and less on mitigating the sufferings of the downtrodden. This is particularly true of Pakistan.

It is said that laughter is the best medicine. One can find something or a little to smile or laugh at, even during the times of untellable sadness.

During the Indian Moon Rover Chandrayaan 3's launching, a discussion ensued in Pakistan as regards why couldn't we do the same. Mullahs were facing the brunt of the blame. 

During the heat of the discussion, a very vocal religious scholar from Lahore was asked the reason for Pakistan's failure to do likewise. 'Who is stopping our scientists from going to the moon, do you want us to send them, did the Hindu sadhus send the Chandrayaan to the moon,' there came a sharp retort from the erudite Allama.' 

The retort could be enjoyed by those having some little sense of humour. By and by, we need our clergy to be in possession of their vast deposits of humour so as to be able to take on their critics with the power of their intellect, and not otherwise.

One wouldn't like to drag this discussion turning into an insipid sermon. One would better leave sermon-writing to the charlatans.

One would rather like to read from some beautiful poetry, or a page or many from a book read long ago and fascinated by it. One could also go back to reading from letters penned mostly by ordinary souls about their existential matters. There is an element of personal touch attached to writing and reading beautiful letters which is a world apart from reading an impersonal soporific sermon in a newspaper.