Mustafa Qadri

Today and yesterday I visited Karachi’s Hindu community at two different ‘mandirs’ or temples. One was in the Lighthouse district of the city. From the main road you would be forgiven for not knowing it exists because it is surrounded by markets. The only entrance to the tempe is through a small alleyway covered by a boomgate and some security guards. The guards I met were Muslim, from ‘Al Aqsa’ security no less.

Inside there was a large square road encircling the temple whose unmistakable Hindu architecture peaked out from above a further ring of markets and walls. Inside the temple grounds were full of people and life. Most gathered to listen to a guru from North America, a slightly-built, bespectacled middle-aged man. Others languished on the ground or mingled. The atmosphere was colourful, energetic and wonderfully anonymous. A welcome relief to the open night streets of Karachi which everyone here seems a little afraid of these days. Despite my attempts to dress local I still stand out. It might be my pretentious spectacles. It could all, of course, just be my paranoia. But paranoia keeps you alive. (hmmm… I’m starting to sound like a B-grade Vietnam War movie narrator)

The guru was sitting on a thrown at one end of the complex. At all times he was being fanned by two young men. He didn’t speak a word of Hindi but his every utterance was dutifully translated by another man with a microphone. It was a brilliantly colonialist moment, the white man preaching the brown man’s faith to the brown man, but unfortunately I was not allowed to take any photos. Once my camera was revealed from my trusty backpack a man around my age came up and politely asked who I was.

I explained that I was a journalist from Australia interested in reporting on the Hindu community in Pakistan. He said unfortunately non-Hindus were not allowed in the temple grounds because of the guru’s visit. Even local press and the government are not allowed to report on the event. I guessed, after having spoken to several different people there, that part of the reason for the secrecy is a fear that fundamentalist Muslims will react violently. I can just imagine that even some people I know, although a minority, would conjure up conspiracy theories involving Mossad or RAW (Indian intelligence) funding Hare Krishnas to dilute Islam in Pakistan.

To be fair, however, a number of people I met said they had no experience of discrimination in Pakistan. Some were even quite successful businessmen or professionals and there is a Hindu MP in Islamabad.

After a brief chat with a spokesperson in his office, I was eventually allowed to walk around the temple grounds. It was well into the evening now and the guru had left the compound. People remained, however, and I was led to another large open area behind the first field immediately after the entrance to the temple complex. This area was darker but equally full of life. At one end was a closed room in which, I believe, was a statue where people worshipped. It was the holiest area of the entire complex and I was not allowed to enter. I mingled freely with people in the open area instead.

My aim was quite self-conscious. I wanted to learn about the Hindu experience of Pakistan. Many of the people I met were native Sindhis (Karachi is the capital of the province of Sindh. The main ethnic group in Sindh are the Sindhis. Benazir Bhutto was Sindhi). And yet although they have lived here long before Pakistan even existed, they are mostly less than second class citizens. It was a sobering moment, particularly since I have only recently returned from the Occupied Palestinian Territories.

Today I visited the mandir again to speak to the local community leadership. They were again polite but quite keen to avoid talking about the Hindu community’s relations with the majority Muslim population. So I instead asked about their personal lives. Unsurprisingly, very little other than very statistical information was offered. “I have X number of kids, I work here,” and so on.

Afterward we visited a Hindu community next to a Mosque in downtown Karachi. The ride to that district was itself an experience. It was my first taste of Karachi peak hour traffic on this visit and our impatient taxi driver, a mountainous Phatan man with the bad habit of opening his door when the car was even momentarily stationary, ensured I didn’t dose off. But we eventually got there in one piece.

The Hindu community next to the mosque is routinely harassed by the police and members from the mosque’s congregation. Three months ago, bulldozers came and demolished two apartment buildings the community claims housed 100-150 people. They showed me photos of the bulldozing, police lynching some of the people and the gruesome aftermath. One young man had his head cracked open like a ripe, bloodied melon. It was sobering stuff. I’ll save the details for my news writes ups.

What I will say now is that they were very welcoming. And yet they also hoped that my visit would lead to some recourse to justice. That somehow me writing in a newspaper or website read by foreigners will eventually put an end to the violence they are experiencing. I repeatedly cautioned them that all I could do is tell people what is happening and that may not mean very much for them on the ground. One of the men, VJ, said he had faith in me because bagwan (god) had sent me to save them. At moments like that you feel like a total fraud, let me tell you now.

I hope to interview the Mulana who has apparently been encouraging Muslims to attack this Hindu community. But I didn’t think it wise or appropriate to meet him just after meeting the Hindu community. I’ll make a separate visit and lay on the faux religiosity. It’s worked before. I’ll also have to speak to local government and police officials as well as the landlord for the area. It should be an interesting week ahead of me.

Throughout today and yesterday evening my guide was a generous, big-hearted man named Lakshman who sweeps the floors of the comman areas to the apartment where I live. I tried on several occasions to give him cash but on each occasion he refused. I met his beautiful wife and children (yes they were literally quite beautiful!) and he even dropped me home last night. He’s a good man and I hope to repay his kindness before I leave.