Blog — Mad Guru

I stayed the night at the Department Culture of Sindh. I spent the morning editing Phool Patti interviews and the “Risalo” animatic. Every decision to cut out a line of poetry, where two lines are too similar in meaning, opens up the edit to allow music to come in more and gives more weight to the words that remain.

Ghulam Abbas sahib fought through some crazy traffic to get me from the airport.

During the day, a Jogi named Gulab Jogi, who lives in Bhitshah, Shah Latin’s town, happened to drop by. We talked for a while and I asked him a bit about how Jogis travel. He showed me a photo album of his many travels and meetings with various dignitaries, dancers and artists from around the world. He was a really jovial and friendly person. He clearly has a deep love of his culture, which he enjoys sharing with people.He shared a geedar sing and hatta jori with us. The geedar singh is removed from a geedar and used for protection. He emphasized the the geedar is not killed during this process. The hatta jori is a sort of dried root that becomes hard and somewhat bone like.I got his card and will likely visit him in Bhitshah as I search for puppeteers in Sindh. After that, we took a few photos and he was on his way. My friend Ali Salman Anchal of Phool Patti dropped by with some of my luggage. I said goodbye to Muhammed Ghulam who had woken up and driven with Ali through crazy traffic at a moment’s notice to get me the night I arrived in Karachi. There are some interesting new collaborations in the works thanks to all of these meetings. I hope to share more when they bear fruit.After that, the kind people at the Department of Culture dropped me at the bus station, from where I hopped on a coaster for Jamshoro. The ride took a while, but it was interesting to see the variety of vendors that would pop on and off the bus to offer their wares. There were the perfume guys that had their pitch down who invited people to test out the perfume for free, then proceeded to walk up and down the aisle and spray some cologne just above our heads. There’s a lot of clever wordplay and a particularly honed style of delivery for these pitches. It’s hard work jumping on a bus and hawking wares by delivering your pitch and just walking up and down, watching for any kind of interest in someone’s eyes and then hopping off, into a sea of chaos outside as the bus starts to leave.

People were selling egg burgers, spiced cucumbers, peanut brittle, chenna snacks, hats, kid’s clothes, cell chargers and covers, juice, soda, plastic light up toys etc. There were children and women who came aboard asking for alms, as they made their pitch for doing so to be rewarded for your good deeds and getting an opportunity to visit the holy city of Medina.

We stopped at a rest area for a bit to gather more passengers. The conductor went out and brought people aboard, as passengers went out to get pakoras, samosas and other snacks. Once on the highway, we passed a lot of petrol stands and restaurants along the way. It’s pretty crazy how these huge buses and trucks honk like mad men when passing each other while these little cars are nuts enough to weave around them.

Eventually I reached the Jamshoro stop. There are a ton of rickshaws there, waiting to take people further. I called up my friend Saeed Mangi, and he sent Shehzad sahib out with a car. I took some long exposures as I waited. It is quite dark out there, with only streaks of light from passing vehicles. It could be a very creepy place, but no one really bothered me. Drivers asked me if I needed a ride a few times, and when I said no, they went back to chatting with each other.

I settled into the room with campus housing, then Mangi sahib took me out to meet other art faculty and dinner. It was really great to see him again after several years. His kids have grown quite a bit in that time, and have no recollection of me whatsoever, but I certainly remember them. I enjoyed a delicious dinner of chicken karhai, but was left out of most of the conversation as the group was speaking in Sindhi instead of Urdu. I watched stray dogs mill about, as I scarfed down food and fended off mosquitos. I enjoy the sound of Sindhi. Like Punjabi, it has a beautiful flow and there’s a particular way that people connect words and blend them together. Also like Punjabi, it can be beautiful when it is used as such, and not so much in the way that some people speak in a sort of gutteral way. I’ve been working from a wonderful Urdu translation to adapt “Risalo” and look forward to recording the corresponding lines in their original Sindhi so that I can share this poetry that exemplifies the beauty of this language and its people.