Pakistan's political scenario took an unexpected turn when Yousaf Raza Gilani was declared ineligible by the Supreme Court. However, what we got to see on our news channels were pictures of Yousaf Raza Gilani with ‘Yeh kya hua, kese hua, kab hua?’ playing in the background, repeatedly! The public was asked to wait until Friday when the new prime minister would be elected while the former prime minister’s decisions, expenditures and budget were being questioned. Yet, what we got to view throughout Friday were pictures of candidates for the prime minister position with some more songs playing in the background. What struck me as most bizarre was the song ‘Raja ki ayegi baraat, rangeeli hogi raat’ playing behind an old video of Raja Pervez Ashraf. This repeated for quite a while too - even after he became the prime minister of Pakistan. [[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GU0qg3wB2gw&feature=relmfu]] This was not an isolated incident. In fact, last month, when policemen in Punjab were instructed to lose weight and include exercise in their routine, a video of some of the policemen exercising in a park was played with ‘Ek, do, teen’, the famous Madhuri Dixit song serving as background music. It is understandable that with 80-90 channels on that ‘idiot box’, there is a need for entertainment to hold viewers' attention. [[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_iCOFuS9Kqg]] Undoubtedly, there is nothing more entertaining than the peppy numbers from across the border that can even leave toddlers bobbing their heads. However, coming across Indian songs while looking at the headlines for the day just leaves nothing but questions regarding the logic behind such actions. I suppose we as Pakistanis have become so desensitised to news stories of constant violence and strife that putting a light twist is a way of preventing a plunge in to deep depression. Having said as much, I do not think this is quality journalism. I believe that showing political news and current affairs with Bollywood songs as background music cannot be justified in any manner. I am no media critic, but showing serious issues with light music in the background irritates viewers and takes away, often-times, from the gravity of the news. Thus, expecting the awam to rally and take action against something cannot be expected if news is made in to a joke. While our country is going through a rough time, the least news channels can do is not make a mockery of current affairs. Also, something should definitely be done about the little smirk news anchors have on their faces after these headlines with Indian songs are telecasted! [[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i2na_IfiYXI]]

It all started with a question.

“This Columbian friend of mine is asking me about Pakistani music,” asked Ali,“What do I tell him?”

"But Goray Rang ka Zamana is a catchier song!” he said. “It’s racist!” I replied. “But, we’re a racist, nationalistic nation, might as well put it out there,” said Ali.

There’s something magical about letting yourself disappear in the music of your mind and losing your heart to absolute strangers in their conversations, their actions and their journeys. Like a ghost, I sit on one too many buses and trains just observing people. I take mental notes about their mannerisms when they’re not watching. I make up stories about where they may be headed, who their lovers may be and what they might have overcome in their lives. I fall in love with some and end up hating others. And though we never even exchange a single word or glimpse, I learn from each one of them. However, with all the strangers I’ve watched, the most interesting are the ones I see at airports. It’s as if travel — or rather, long layovers, transit flights and uncontrollable static in your hair — brings out the best and the worst in people. Strangers tumble out of planes rubbing their eyes from lack of sleep while others scratch their butts when no one’s watching. Some travellers are confused about where to go next, others are ecstatic about the possibilities to come. Bindiyas and sarongs, turbans and topis, skirts and abayas surround me. Toddlers clutch their stuffed toys, excited travellers pose for pictures and some disappear into airport toilets to come back completely anew. Doors swish open, doors swish close. Visas are stamped, visas are denied. Uniforms are changed, floors are swept clean. Boarding passes are printed, smiles are exchanged. Facebook statuses are updated, exotic pictures are uploaded. Old strangers disappear into departure lounges while new ones pour out from planes. And I watch with sadness for the ones who walk away to catch their next flight and with glee for the ones to come. And when they finally call out for my flight, it feels as if I’m leaving friends and lovers. It’s as if I’m leaving quiet conversations midway because within just a few hours, they all become my strangers, my people, my lovers, my family and my friends. And through it all, my biggest regret becomes not saying goodbye. Read more by Saba here.

As a director, the making of ‘Vo Jang’ was one of the hardest feats that I have ever had to complete. I went through hours of grave contemplating, thinking, and absorbing the gruesomeness of the status quo of Pakistan. At times, the experience became so overwhelming that I would break down completely. Nevertheless, some things have to be said and some brutalities have to be faced. Evil has to be confronted and demons have to be fought even if it all comes at the price of standing on the verge of losing your sanity. ‘Vo Jang’ is a beautiful albeit saddening piece of poetry by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, coupled with the sheer melodic talent of ‘Laal’. It is a montage of heart-wrenching images of sufferers, as well as pictures that give rise to hope; photos of Pakistani heroes. It pains me to say that many Pakistanis are still confused about the extremists that have brought so much suffering upon us. They either believe that much of this is exaggerated, mythical, or is being done at the behest of foreign powers in order to justify or extend Afghanistan's occupation. The fact remains that extremism has roots within our own society. Regardless of what happens with respect to the US presence in Afghanistan, we have to recognise that we'll have to face this problem with our own strength and for our own sake. It is a reminder that we must stop hoping for someone dependable to help us all the time. With the recent escalation of attacks and other incidents of intolerance, I feel that it is all the more necessary that we understand the utterly destructive nature of these forces and come together to struggle for a progressive Pakistan. Confronting this fascist enemy is the most important task for the people of Pakistan today. I hope that this music video will be able to contribute in that struggle by fortifying our resolve to overcome all difficulties, and all physical or emotional barriers in our path. We all wish to see an umeed-e-sahar (ray of hope) for Pakistan, and that will only come about through sacrifice, struggle and the strength of our convictions. In the end, however, I am confident that spring will come and wash away all our sins and sorrows. As Pablo Neruda put it:

You can crush all the flowers but you cannot stop the spring.

I've always loved music. The sweet tunes of Sufi artists; the purity of Africa’s tribal beats; the melodies of Arabia, and the especially popular Western sounds of the modern world have all impacted me in more ways than I can probably comprehend. The poetic lyrics have left me, on more than one occasion, in complete awe. However, the more I listen to today’s mainstream music - the likes of Kesha, Rihanna, Nicki Minaj and Lady Gaga - the more disappointed I am left. The lyricists seem hollow, egotistic and vain.

I get it cracking like a bad back, b**** talking she the queen, when she looking like a lab rat.

The journey from the golden age to the recent dark ages has been very short for the Pakistan music industry. So it doesn't come as a surprise when a song like Taroo Maroo becomes an instant hit in the music deprived nation. It wouldn’t awe a person if Sajjad Ali’s recent four minute video—Har Zulm  is welcomed by an audience getting accustomed to finding music in the title songs of over-rated drama serials. It was not long before Pakistan produced some of the best musicians in the world. From Munni Begum, Nayyara Noor, Iqbal Bano, Farida Khanum to the younger generation of pop singers including Vital Signs, Junoon, Awaaz, every musician in Pakistan has left their hallmark. Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Reshma, Abida Parveen have been renowned artists who not only left audiences in Pakistan spellbound but have mesmerised audiences throughout the world. Though the mesmerising still continues with the younger generation of musicians in the country, the industry is only limited to exporting music to the Indian film industry. Most of our musicians now either work only to compose music for the Indian films or wait for a breakthrough to prove their mettle in the neighbouring country. The reason for the shift can either be put on the growing militancy or the less heinous but equally disturbing music piracy. The media boom during the early years of the millennium introduced the country to some of the best talent. One could see fresh faces emerging on television every other day who gave the audiences numerous hit songs. But it wasn’t long before music piracy and easy internet downloading left the music industry in ruins. And it is since then that music has tried finding alternative means to survive in the country. So probably till the time our music industry revives we can laud Qurat-ul-ain Baloch singing Humsafar and commend how remarkable Ashar looks in that video. Read more by Basma here.

My first few encounters with a public bus occurred when I started going to an institute to prepare for my entrance test. My father usually used to pick and drop me, but one fine day he wasn’t home and I needed a ride. In that moment of absolute insanity, I made a decision which became the biggest regret of my life. I boldly declared in front of my family that I was old enough to ride the public bus. I thought I knew what I was in for; a long lecture on the dangers of travelling via buses alone concluding with a final order to stay at home. I tried my luck anyway. To my utter surprise, I was wrong. The next thing I remember was standing in a bus, pale faced and wide-eyed, my hands tightly gripping onto the bars and my music pumped up. I looked like an acrobat, ready for my next performance. Somehow, I managed to reach the institute but my appearance can be gauged from the fact that everybody that I encountered that day asked me if my area was undergoing loadshedding. I didn’t understand the reason behind this inquiry until I came home and looked in the mirror. My hair was a bedraggled mop. Moreover, my disheveled clothes and dirty shoes (which had been stepped on countless times in the bus) were enough to answer my own question. Since that day, however, I have become an avid bus traveler. I climb onto a bus looking like Angelina Jolie and come out looking like myself when I have just woken up. Then there is the street racing experience amongst the others. One day I climbed on to a bus and settled down quickly on a vacant seat. I sunk into my seat and just when I was ready to dose off, I was interrupted. The driver spotted another bus in his rear view heading the same way as us - what happened after is obvious. In fact, the expertise with which the driver manoeuvred the giant bus through the messy Karachi traffic at the speed of lightning will even put Michael Schumacher to shame! I am sure the only reason Mr Schumacher stands as the person with the most championships under his belt is because a Karachi bus driver never took part in a Formula One race. That day, I reached my destination half an hour early. Also, that evening when I went to an amusement park with my friends, I politely refused to sit on the roller coaster; one electrifying ride was enough for the day, thank you very much! Another day, I found a seat beside a woman whose sheer size I did not guess until I found half of my body suspended in mid-air (no offence to the rotund woman)! I was neither sitting nor standing; it was quite uncomfortable and an excruciating experience that left half of my body paralysed for the rest of the day. Furthermore, as a safety precaution, I keep the bus fare in my hand before climbing onto the bus because once inside, it becomes a Herculean task to open your wallet and hold the bars at the same time while standing. So, one day I was standing with the coins tucked safely in my hand when all of a sudden the bus gave a massive lurch. As a reflex, my palm opened and the coins went flying all over the floor and were quick to move in practically inaccessible corners. I gave up and took out a new set of coins. As if on purpose, the bus swayed again, flinging the coins straight out of my hand!. Frustrated, I opened my wallet to discover a solitary Rs500. Unable to say that universal line “kiraya nahi hay” (I don’t have the fare) and then fight with the conductor, I gave the green note to the conductor. Yes, I had given a Rs500 note for a Rs10 fare! Try getting change for that on a bus! Any discussion on the buses is incomplete without background music. Music has been dubbed as “food for the soul” but the music playing in these buses is another story altogether. It looks like all the terrible singers of Pakistan have made a contract with the Karachi buses that only those cassettes (yes they still play cassettes!) will be played where the music has no rhythm and the singer continuously praises the “kaali kameez” of her beloved. Equally dangerous as the music, are the women thieves that ascend a bus in groups. Soon after their descent, women start shouting that their valuables are missing. It’s true; it happens quite often. These are only some of the adventures that I have gone through while travelling via the painted devil. But, I know that this is not the end because each day is a new day which means a new destination, a new bus and a whole new adventure. I’ll be back with more! Read more by Raiya here or follow her on Twitter @raiyatweets

You may not know this about her, but Zoe Viccaji loves to put German glue on her hands and peel it off; she also loves to pinch ears, but her greatest love remains music. At the age of 15, when most of her teenage friends had the high-school blues, Zoe wrote songs for her friends and performed at open mic sessions as a hobby. She joined the college choir and majored in Arts and Sociology; even turned towards advertising for two years post-college, only to return to her first love – music. Born in Kharian to a Parsi father and a Christian mother, Zoe was raised in Karachi with her older brother who works in films, and a younger sister who is following her footsteps into the world of music. Member of the former band Vital Signs, Shahzad ‘Shahi’ Hasan, who is now a music director and producer pushed Zoe to record her first single Thinking About You, in 2009. Following her passion, she became a part of Coke Studio and collaborated with the internationally acclaimed pop-rock band Strings, and in 2010, music became a fulltime occupation for Zoe.

“I’ve been really happy with my decision,” says Zoe.   “I’ve recently come to realise that staying true to oneself is very important. If you love what you’re doing and do it with good intentions (a special note to politicians), then you should be on the right track!”

“The lyrics and melody of the song are very strong; and it was a pleasure to sing something which can [emotionally] move people,” says Zoe. “I had never seen the original drama before, but I was immediately a fan when I watched the old episodes during our sessions at the studio.”

“I first wrote the song in gibberish to which Asim Raza added Urdu lyrics,” says Zoe. “It was the first song that was given to a lyricist, so to let go and allow someone else to input on something so close to home was challenging.” “When it came down to recording and arranging the song, Shahi and I were not able to crack the song. We tried various beats which were fun but just not ‘it’,” says Zoe. “Then one day while I was sitting with my guitarist, we put a reggae feel to it and everything fell into place.” “While we played the song all together, I wanted to capture the feeling and letting people experience it with us; that’s how the video came about – it was a group effort; and those are always the most fun projects – everyone was equally invested and put their hearts into it.”

“We want to do justice to the album and its distribution,” says Zoe, who actually wanted to release the album in a casual manner. “These things take time, and I’ve had to learn to be patient.

With the music of the Ranbir-Deepika starrer Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani, music director Pritam brings to us one of the most widely anticipated soundtracks of this year. There are still two weeks left for the May 31 release but the buzz around the film has already reached fever pitch. With Ayan Mukerjee at the helm, the film is expected to have a certain amount of youthful energy and breeziness to it (remember Wake up Sid?) and the music has been a success so far. Moreover, through one of the highlights of the soundtrack we are able to see the variety that it offers. The album utilises the vocal prowess of a treasure-trove of singers. From established vocalists such as Sunidhi Chauhan and Rekha Bharwaj to new talents such as the increasingly-popular Arijit Singh and Sreeram (who first appeared on the radar as the winner of Indian Idol 5). Badtameez Dil (a song from the movie) kicks off the proceedings with Benny Dayal at his best. What started off as a trumpet piece has been developed into an out and out dance track! The crazy lyrics of the song may not be works of poetry but they sure compliment the feel of the song. Continuing in the same vein of lighter and fun dance tracks, there is, 'Dilliwaali Girlfriend'. This song is the closest to a Punjabi bhangra type of song that you will find on the album. Although, it took some time to grow on me, I love it! And the video definitely had something to do with it! Balam Pichkari is the catchiest song on the album. This sing-along takes you back to Rang Barse. Watch out, there is no way you will be able to resist this one! That said, Vishal Dadlani proves his versatility once again and female artiste Shalmali Kholgade matches him note for note! Ghahgra marks the return of 'Mohini' aka Madhuri to our screens. It is again an interesting item number that is impossible to miss especially with the excessive hype around it– it is a treat to see the dhak-dhak diva, Madhuri with the generation next’s superstar, Ranbir Kapoor! What an awesome duo, right? This flows into 'Kabira' a more emotional track that is sure to impress. Rekha Bhardwaj's powerful vocals bring out the nuances of Amitabh Bhatacharya’s lyrics that tell the story of heartbreak. What is even more impressive is the second version of the song, sung by Arijit Singh, who has now made a mark for himself with the versatility of his work. This is followed by two versions of 'Ilahi' – an original and reprise. The reprise has been rendered by Mohit Chauhan, who garnered critical acclaim for being the voice of Ranbir Kapoor in Rockstar. For me, both versions of the song have a 'road trip' kind of feel to them. And when I first listened to them, they reminded me a little bit of Rockstar's 'Phir se udd chala' but they sure bring in a fresh feel too. The album ends on a melodiously beautiful note with 'Subhan Allah'. This is without a doubt one of the best romantic tunes to have come out of Bollywood recently with its soulful proclamation of the beloved. Pritam, who has of late mostly redeemed himself from his earlier criticism of producing 'influenced' work proved his mettle by delivering two blockbuster soundtracks for 'Cocktail' and 'Barfi' last year. With 'Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani' he has once again proved that he is one of the top talents in music direction in today’s Bollywood. Happy singing every body! PHOTOS: https://www.facebook.com/YehJawaaniHaiDeewani Read more by Ayesha here or follow her on Twitter @ayesh_b

Random Access Memories (RAM) is the fourth studio album released by the French duo, Guy-Manuel and Thomas Bangalter - better known to the world as Daft Punk. After a sabbatical of eight years since their last studio release, the iconic team of electronic musicians finally dropped their much anticipated latest album. I decided to give it a listen, in lieu of all the hype and let's just say that it exceeded my expectations. Known for worldwide hits such as “Around The World” and “Harder Better Faster Stronger”, I had hoped that they would stay true to their roots and would not resort to change to keep up with the ever evolving electronic music scene. RAM reminds many why Daft Punk was one of the pioneers of bringing electronic dance music to the mainstream front. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="486" caption="Photo: AFP"][/caption] What really caught my attention was their decision to collaborate with artists of different genres, ranging from RnB (Rhythm and Blues) artist such as Pharrell Williams to Julian Casablancas of The Strokes - who happens to be a personal favourite of mine. As an old listener of their music, hearing the classic synchronisation of their tech beats with disco and soft rock, reminded me of why I had become a fan. Songs like ‘Give Love Back to Music" is vintage Daft Punk -  mellow, rhythmic and flexible to any setting. What makes it stand out for me even more is their ability to integrate the different array of vocalists into their music. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="480" caption="Photo: AFP"][/caption] The range that this album has is one of the many special qualities that makes it stand. I can imagine listening to tracks such as ‘Bring Love Back to Music’, when relaxing from a stressful day at work or when I am getting ready to party - this song hits the mark no matter what mood you are in. Then there is ‘Get Lucky', which has enjoyed immense commercial success and has broken records on online music services such as Spotify. This is another record that is a highlight of the album for me. In my opinion, the smooth sound of Pharrell Williams, which is featured in the song, attracts the RnB crowd as well as the electronic fans. Even though much from their old style is reminiscent, there are many new turns that this album takes from their old stuff, which was the real cause of the success of the album for me. The consistent flow of progressive rock and jazzy sounds taking precedence over the previous heavy house and electronic beats was a change that left me pleasantly satisfied. This is a much appreciated break from the current norm of in your face, blast your ear drums path that current DJ’s have taken with tech music. This album is as aesthetic to the old fans as it will be to the new listeners, who would definitely become fans. RAM reminds many why Daft Punk was one of the pioneers of bringing electronic dance music to the mainstream front. This is not just one the best techno albums released so far for me, but one of the best albums of the decade -- well worth the wait and a must listen for everyone! Follow Taha on Twitter @tahaali329

“I know you'd expect this kid to be a criminal, But before you judge someone, don't be as cynical Because that child wasn't a story, That child was me."

“So imagine a child at six years old, Who was constantly bullied, Even his parents would scold him, So thin from malnutrition, No food in his belly And no food in his kitchen.”

“The bullies were so powerful and looked so cool.”

“He was a cage bottled rage; A maze full of madness, Pains was his address, With mail from sadness. Growing up he started dealing and stealing, A 12-year-old mind turned into a villain.”

“After this, he knew his record would never be gone, And worst of all they cuffed him right in front of his mom, They threw him in the back, as his mothers eyes filled with tears, The boy almost 15 had a mind full of fears, They took him to division 12, He spent that night behind bars, And crushed his fantasy of having money and fast cars.”

“He did two things that night, he cried and he thought.” “So that changed you?” I asked. “No. It’s hard to change overnight, but I woke up.”

“My poetry now changed its message, from violent references to social issues close to my heart,” says Wali.

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you are worthless, See your imperfection, for what makes you perfect.”

“Wali is a good boy, only his circumstances were bad,” she says about her son.

“Your poetry is so touching,” I remarked. “Because they are my feeling turned into words," said Wali, smiling. “My goal is to use music as a tool to move others and spread awareness about social issues.”

“I grew up like a black kid - same issues, same struggles, same prejudices. Racial slurs were hurled at me - things like ‘Paki’ and ‘sand nigger’.”

“No no, anger should be channelised to make this a better world, not worse.”

“What would you want to say to the youngsters?” I asked him, like many before me may have asked him.

“Don’t judge the book by its cover, Don’t judge a man by his skin, by his colour. Stereotyping has become more of a fashion, And evolves into genocide when put into action; And as our actions turn into reactions, We ruin our children who have minds full of passion.”

Hendon Cemetery, London NW7 on Holder’s Hill Road is a serene space with the usual poignancy and hush that accompanies cemeteries. There, tucked away among other graves is a simple tomb with a black headstone. “786”, the numerical translation of Bismillah is etched along with this touching epitaph:

“In the loving memory of Nazia Hassan. Loving daughter, sister and mother. Beloved and cherished by millions of people. Died in her youth, August 13, 2000.”

“She is about to die”, he said.

Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive, But to be young was very Heaven!

Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds Along the pebbled shore of memory!

 “She set - well ahead of its time - the personal album trend in India, spawning the likes of Alisha Chinai, Lucky Ali and Shweta Shetty,” it noted.

Talking to one of my old friends, my pal of 21 years, and sharing some pictures from 1994 to 1998 with him, something really interesting struck me. My memories have a soundtrack. In simple words, each time I think of my school and college life, I hear background music; beautiful melodies of the days gone by but fresh in my memory forever. And not surprisingly, all of them are from the one and only, Vital Signs. It was in the fall of 1987 or ’88 when I first heard Dil Dil Pakistan. A school friend came to me one morning during break-time with her fancy new ‘walkman’ (remember those? Such a status symbol from the yester-years they were). Excitedly, she pranced towards me to ask,

“Did you hear Dil Dil Pakistan?”

“No, but I’ve heard kidney kidney Pakistan!”

There are a few things a Pakistani can be proud of and music tops the list. From the eternal Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan to the evergreen Noor Jehan; from the refreshing Nazia Hasan to the quirky Hadiqa Kiani; from the cheery Alamgir to the likes of Ali Azmat, Ali Zafar et al; from the soulful Alan Fakir to the ear soothing Mekaal Hasan Band and Fuzon, we’ve got it all! In fact, anyone would give their Led Zeppelin guitars for the talent Pakistan has. The newest and the most successful (probably after Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan) addition to the list is Coke Studio. Starting in 2008, it got better and better every year, and so much that Coca-Cola launched it in India and the Middle East also. However, neither of these projects matched the standard set by our very own Pakistani version– although the Indian version is coming close. The start of October marked the launch of the sixth season with the universal promo releasing a day after. By the looks of it, it promises to be the grandest of all. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x15j5g4_coke-studio-pakistan-universal-promo-season-6_music[/embed] Here are three reasons why I will watch it: 1. The comebacks This season has what the last season lacked: Gumby and Jaffar Zaidi. Gumby’s adaptability to different styles of music was missing in the previous season and Mubashir Amdani somehow failed to bring the rhythm that Zaidi did. This season, thankfully, the gap will be filled. Moreover, the comebacks of Ali Azmat and Zeb and Haniya, among others, make this season even more promising. https://twitter.com/iHassanMirza/status/335814800447770625 2. The eclectic set of musicians Although the house-band comprises some of the best musicians in Pakistan, the addition of foreign musicians in the band will take the season to the next level. Foreign musicians come from as far as Italy, Morocco, Norway, Serbia, Turkey and Nepal. This season seems to be a true celebration of world music, in addition to being a celebration of Pakistani music. The new additions from Pakistan are also something to watch out for this season. Personally I can’t wait to see Abrarul Haq’s style infused with the signature style of Coke Studio. https://twitter.com/ETLifeandStyle/status/385419472481173504 3. The man and his legacy The reason Coke Studio is thriving today is because of one man’s hard work, Rohail Hyatt. If it hadn’t been for this man’s vision, Pakistan would never have acquired this great musical asset. As long as Hyatt is behind Coke Studio, I will know that I have something good to look forward to and that is encouragement enough to continue watching it; after all, he is the reason we have Dil Dil Pakistan. That ought to prove his brilliance. https://twitter.com/Anoushey_a/status/384994900435279872 So, regardless of its previous setbacks, if you are a music lover, watch this season of Coke Studio. With so many with so many talented musicians involved, our ears are definitely in for a treat. Come this October 13, tune your TVs into Coke Studio where entertainment is guaranteed!

Since I was a child, I have been bullied and called names. People have always been cruel to me and it took me a few years to understand that I should not let it get to me. Growing up, nobody wanted to hang out with me; children my age hated me and I was never picked for anything - let alone being picked last. Even the mothers of these kids despised me and adults made fun of me. All this, and only because I was a boy with effeminate traits. ‘I say ‘was’ because I like to think that I have evolved pretty much since then, although those characteristics still exist a somewhere inside me. What hurts the most is that people could have supported me and let me figure things out by myself, but instead they opted for the way that seemed natural and innate to them – the way of offence. The fact is that anything out of the ordinary is always condemned and so was I. People were just never good to me; not even my teachers or my peers. Hence, it was hard to make friends and even my best friend was sceptic about hanging out with me at first, simply out of fear of what people would say. I was a menace, an outcast; and only because I was ‘girlish’. That, I learned the hard way, is something a guy can never be. The world has defined a certain way of life with specific characteristics of behaviour that classify who is who and what is what. However, the truth is that we are all unique, and we are all God’s created beings. Nevertheless, people, refuse to see it that way; they would rather put a label on everything and then hate the people who don’t accept their labels. In fact, people who go against their definitions are shunned and looked down upon. Some labels are derogatory in themselves and the so the ‘different’ person becomes an ideal spectacle to be made fun of or excluded. Our society defines certain ways in which a guy is supposed to behave. If he doesn't conform, he’s not considered one of the male species. As far as my own experience went, I was frankly okay about not being a part of them. I had spent a lot of time trying to figure out my place in this world and I had come to terms with the fact that people wouldn't accept me – at least ‘normal’ people wouldn't. Hence, I turned to the outcasts. You see, these normal people have their own ideals, and if anyone doesn't come up to their expectations, they are thrown out. So a guy like me could never cope. However, the fact is that once you’re out, you need to find your own niche and you usually think, “Oh, it’s so cool, now I can hang out with people who won’t judge me for who I am or what I do; they’ll be cool.” So you try to blend in with the outsiders. In that single moment, you look forward to the point when you will be the one on the inside looking out. When you do eventually make it to the outcast circle, you feel free. You feel like you can be yourself – finally. However, I found out the hard way that even outcasts have their restrictions, and that is where it got even worse for me. A guy like me was called all kinds of names, and one of those names was the ‘gay guy’. It’s true, I have been perceived to be gay quite a few times even though I am not. Personally, I have always been alright with whoever a person wishes to be – gay or straight; after all, it’s their choice. However, what was conflicting was that even these outsiders – the other gay guys – had formed their own criteria and rules of who is gay and who is not. I hoped that they would be more accepting of my view, but all I got, even from them, was judgement. Simply put, the gays want you to be gay and they think that if a guy walks and talks like a girl, listens to girly music and is into fashion, then he’s gay. The gays told me to get out of the closet but I already was out! I'm straight and I cannot put it more simply than that. All these experiences led me to realise that no matter what you do, you just cannot fit in. There will always be someone or something that will push you out of the group. It took me a long time to figure out who I am and where I stand both, sexually as well as personally, and I cannot let anyone tell me where I fit in. The straights didn't accept me and the gays wanted me to change. So, I decided that I had better accept myself for who I was, first. In a world with access to information which earlier generations could not have even dreamt about, most of the time we don’t know what to do with that information or even whether it is right or verified. This diversity of humanity can never be boxed, and just when you think you've categorized each and every human being, there’ll come another batch of babies who’ll burn all your research down and formulate new ideals and new personalities. I fail to understand why an individual can’t just be him or herself. Why should you define who the other person is? Why not give them a chance to show you who they are? In my opinion, lack of trust, incomplete information, and not knowing one’s own self, has brought us to this point. The point where it’s just easier to bash someone and call them names from behind a screen, while you live your life conforming to whatever limits people have set for you. My personal experiences have taught me that the best thing to do is just be yourself, figure out who you are, work on your image and know yourself completely. So that the next time someone ridicules you, you can laugh it off. So this is me: Katy Perry is my idol, I like Disney movies and fashion, I am effeminate but I am straight. Deal with it!

Getting stuck in Karachi’s downtown traffic jam in the month of June is never pleasant and that jam was a brute. After an hour in the searing heat and the never ending snarl of cars, bikes and rickshaws I was on the verge of a breakdown when from the car radio came Zubaida Khanum’s lilting voice. The song was ‘Masti mein jhoom jhoom re’ from Noor Jehan’s classic ‘Koel’ and I was transported from the inferno to an idyll-like place because of the mellifluous song. The song, much like much of Zubaida Apa’s work, represented so much. It harked back to the golden age of Pakistani movies and great playback singing. It was a time when beautiful voices and vastly talented composers came together in a confluence of magical melody. Singers like her and the legendary Noor Jehan ruled the radio airwaves and many of the elderly I spoke to, recalled being glued to their transistor radio hoping to catch a tune. The song also reminded me of my youth when Pakistani classics were aired regularly on Pakistani channels and we would stay up till late to watch them. Then bleary eyed, we would go to the market the very next day to buy cassettes that would be played in stereos until they fell apart. We were only following the previous generation who would watch these movies, listen to Zubaida Khanum’s siren-like voice and then make a beeline to the nearest music store to buy an LP disc. The more adventurous ones would head to a fancy establishment offering cabaret or live entertainment where her hit songs would be either sung or performed to. When the news of her recent demise was reported it seemed another thread to the memories of bygone days, of many people’s youth, snapped and Pakistan had lost one of its greatest singers. Zubaida Khanum who passed away recently at age 78 in Lahore was not from a family of musicians. Her family left Amritsar and after partition, and fortunately for music lovers, settled in Lahore. Zubaida Apa was passionate about singing and pursued her passion to the fullest. Her first foray in the film world was the 1951 hit ‘Billoo’ and she achieved stardom through her rapturously received songs in ‘Shehri Babu’. Her melodious voice and Rashid Attres’ music composition set the stage for a truly memorable career in playback singing. What followed then was a veritable feast for the senses with her songs coming thick and fast. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x166o6d_zubaida-khanum-profile_news[/embed] ‘Kaise kahoun mein alvida’ and ‘Balam tum haar gaye jeeta mera pyar’  from the 1956 smash hit ‘Baghi’ lit up the music world and gave voice to millions of lovelorn voices. The movie featured actors Sudhir and Musarrat Nazir and was directed by Ashfaq Malik. It was also the first movie in Pakistan that had songs by music director Rehman Verma, whose nous combined with Zubaida Khanum’s voice to produce instant classics. 1959 was the year in which director Khurshid Anwar came out with cult classic ‘Koel’ and although most of the songs were by Noor Jehan, Zubaida Khanum was able to hold her own with the two gems ‘Masti mein jhoom jhoom re’ and ‘Ho dil jala na dil wale’. The songs were mostly filmed leading actresses such as Musarrat Nazir and Sabiha, and for millions represented the language of love and courtship. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x121ff0_zubaida-khanum-dil-jala-na-dilwale-koel-urdu-hd-high_shortfilms[/embed] Many a family elder recall these songs being sung as dedications at various functions in hopes of a returned favour. Some still carry those hopes. Others expressed a fervent desire to arrange a musical evening dedicated to Zubaida Khanum songs, in an attempt to relive her glory days and their own which in many ways were tied to her songs. One such song is ‘Aaye mausam rangeelay suhane’ from the 1957 movie ‘Saath Lakh’ which is the mainstay of every wedding ‘ratjagah’ in my family. The event takes place shortly before the wedding and the entire night is spent in singing classic film songs by Mohammad Rafi, Noor Jehan and many other Pakistani and Indian singers. ‘Aaye Mausam’ was in fact the first Zubaida Khanum song I heard as a child and the ladies of the house take great pride and joy in singing it en masse. In fact, it is usually the grand finale of the night and the last notes end just before the start of the call to morning prayers. [embed width="620"]http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x78iz2_aaye-mausam-rangeele-suhane-pakista_music?search_algo=2[/embed] Zubaida Khanum sang with a maestro’s skill and carried the tunes with aplomb whether it is a sprightly ‘Mera nishana dekhe zamana’  or a soulful ‘Kiya hua dil pe sitam’ . Like all great artists her repertoire extended to well beyond one aspect and she lent her voice to Punjabi songs as well as folk tunes. There is the naat or paean ‘Shaahe-e-Madina’  which is sung at the milads and religious events, not just in my family or community but in millions of homes around the world. The naat was first sung by Zubaida Khanum and though has been reprised by many others, it has yet to be sung with the same passion and skill as when Zubaida Apa performed it. Through her songs, she is an integral part of our joys and precious moments as I imagine she would have wanted to become. The transient world may have lost her charming presence but the interminable world of music is still bright with her songs and always will be.

TV is for entertainment, not for preaching. If it is messages on morals that you want, we have schools. So don’t judge a reality show like Living on the Edge from Oprah's eyes or from an ethical angle; judge a reality show for the entertainment that it provides. Write-ups like Cruelty to animals is not ‘Living on the Edge’ discourage Pakistani initiative; why can't our people learn to appreciate rather than putting people down all the time? Surprisingly, even the Hindustan Times wrote good things about our show at the launch of Roadies Season 9 while in Pakistan, people are only propagating that my show is a copy of Roadies and that it violates animal rights! What a shame. However, first, let me address some confusions about the show: Contestants Many youngsters from Karachi to Peshawer want to try their luck at Living on the Edge. There are no paid actors on the show. If this were so, wouldn't you see the same people appearing on other shows as well? Pressure test During auditions, I put pressure on the contestants to check whether their nervous system is strong enough to take the stress because they will face challenges during the show which can lead to heart failure if their nervous system is weak. We take measures to protect our contestants. Personal questions All reality shows work on the theory, ‘Are you willing to show what you are to the entire world?’ The essence of any reality show depends on people who are willing to share their lifestyle with the world, and we don’t force them to answer personal questions. It is their choice. Selection Contestants are selected based on them having nerves of steel, camera confidence and daring ability. Some people aiming to break records in the Guinness Book of World Records often bring in their own dares, which just adds to the excitement of the show. This initial selection is followed by city dares, in which 16 contestants are selected to stay at a place called Waqar's Den, for 10 days. Unoriginal Content Many haters claim that the show is copied from MTV Roadies. I would like to clarify that Roadies is a travel adventure show, where the contestants travel different countries. In Living on the Edge contestants stay in Waqar's Den for 10 days with strangers and try to judge who their enemies and friends are. Moreover, in Roadies a panel of judges casts contestants based on their personality traits and not on dares. Also, just because Roadies is on air doesn't mean other shows can't make room for themselves; that would be like saying that if the Superman series exists, there can't be a Spiderman series, which is ridiculous right? Animal rights Now, coming to the animal rights issue raised in the post published in The Express Tribune, firstly let me just point out that globally Fear Factor is a much loved and followed show. Why doesn't the media go crazy about abusing animals trained for such events? I’ll tell you why: it’s like saying that the circus lion or monkey is being abused when its master hits it while teaching it tricks. If you don’t believe me, pay a visit to the Lucky Irani Circus or observe the animal trainers in Empress Market Saddar, where animals are trained to be scary and dangerous for events like ours. How come there is no media hullabaloo on that? Do you think Greenpeace is unaware about the happenings on Fear Factor or the achievements recorded in the Guinness Book of World Records such as eating a live scorpion or a live snake? Is that also abuse? If so then why is everyone silent? Tazeen mentioned in her article that a lizard was used in the show and again called it abuse. Seriously? If you do some research, you will find that many international reality shows including Fear Factor use them. You can watch the show here at your convenience. Entertainment Living on the Edge is the only show in the world where the host is the judge and director of the show! Not only that, the host himself always performs deadly dares while Roadies is merely about testing the tasks for the sake of a behind-the-scenes episode. Above everything you need to understand that there are all kinds of shows – the likes of The Jerry Springer Show, Fear Factor and Oprah! You can’t just have shows like Oprah because entertainment varies from person to person. Do you have any idea how difficult editing and production is? I guess not. Do you know why no Pakistani reality TV show aside from Living on the Edge has ever survived? It’s because I know what the youth desires and I put my heart and soul into giving it to them. I edit day and night to make it more interesting for the viewers because that’s what they want! I am just disappointed at how poorly the article was researched and even allowed to be published. Freedom of expression is one thing but exaggerating facts is quite another! Even during elections, it was published that Waqar is contesting in elections when all I was doing was educating people on ARY News about how a common person can contest in elections. Instead of appreciating the originality of my concept, I was criticised for ‘trying to be a politician’. I highly respect every one’s thoughts about my work and I make it a habit to take criticism positively, which is the only reason that I am replying to the post. In the end, I would just like you to understand that this has now become the biggest platform for our youth and I would appreciate it if we could work together to improve Pakistani media so the youth doesn't feel the need to run to foreign media. Feel free to email me with your ideas on how to improve the dares, contestant quality, audition locations and so forth. Let us share ideas instead of making personal attacks and posting hateful comments. I even have internship opportunities for those who are interested in learning the trade. I hope that you can bring in ideas to improve this platform, instead of simply showing that you love to hate me.

It finally happened! Ali Azmat's track was uploaded in the first episode of Coke Studio Season 6. Grinning in excitement, I clicked on the link only to hear this in a low monotone:

“Babu Bhai, Babu Bhai, Babu Bhai, Babu Bhai, Babu Bhai, Babu Bhai, Babu Bhai, Babu Bhai.”

“If it isn't broken, don’t fix it.”

“Pappu Yaar Tang Na Kar! Lift your game, Babu Bhai!”

One by one they are leaving us. Some left the music industry altogether, even before departing from this world, like Zubaida Khanum. Then, Iqbal Bano left us. Mehdi Hasan suffered quite a long illness before his death, leaving behind only his beautiful music; and the latest in our list of great losses is of course, Reshma. Fortunately for us, some like Surraya Multanikar, Farida Khanum, Rubina Qureshi and Ghulam Ali are still around. Of course, everybody has to leave and in the end, it is really not about how long they lived. Rather, it is more about what they brought with them and even more importantly, the legacy that they leave behind. Although floral wreaths placed on their graves show some level of homage, I just don’t think that they are enough of a tribute to our nation’s legends. Respect, homage and tributes need to be paid to our great artists while they are still alive. After all, these are people dedicated to keeping our culture and arts alive! During my tenure as the head of Radio Pakistan, we promoted young talents like Sara Raza, Ali Abbas, Nadeem Abbas Lonewala, Mohan Bhagat and Moon aka Chhota Ustaad. However, there seems to be a widening gap between the contribution of our legends and the young artists of today. I believe that in order to sustain the continuity of music in our country, it is not only imperative to acknowledge the enormous contributions of our artists during their lifetime; it is also important to connect them with the young artists of the current times. Hence, we at Radio Pakistan, decided to launch a series of programs to pay tribute to our living legends.  We did two programs on Mehdi Hasan – one in Islamabad with him on air with us, and the other in Lahore which he could not attend, but it was while he was alive. Radio Pakistan did similar programs with Zubeda Khanum, Farida Khanum, Surraya Multanikar, Rubina Qureshi and of course the great Reshma. I still remember, during my youth, how it was Reshma who brought to life the cultural variation of Rajasthan, Cholistan and even my own Sindh, with her raw, soulful voice. For me, she was the voice of love, wanderings and peace. In March 2012, Radio Pakistan arranged to honour her musical journey and contribution. All her contemporaries as well as young music artists assembled to pay tribute to her. Even the entire Lahore film industry along with the art and culture advocates of Lahore gathered that evening. Dressed in an orange and red outfit, Reshma appeared as lively as she used to be in her youth. It was a tremendous honour for me to receive her. She was warm and humble, just as she always was on air. It was this complete and utter obliviousness to her own greatness that would charm people to her. As the evening of music and melody progressed, she simply couldn’t resist and eventually said to me,

“I will sing too.”

“It smells like home.”

I was at a Strings concert a few days ago. It was one of those fancy sit down affairs, with hideous white sofas and people taking selfies of each other to upload on social media. Bilal Maqsood began singing “mera bichra yaar” and the LCD screens behind him played a very old video from the 1990s. It was then that it hit me. Suddenly I wasn’t nodding and smiling politely to the music, but in a half built amphitheatre, I was screaming as the crème de la crème of the urban rock phenomena in Pakistan belted out their numbers. https://twitter.com/tribuneblogs/status/403134229497659392 The memory of the past is still so fresh. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Strings give a series of riveting performances in seven cities. Photo: Publicity[/caption] Yes, there was such a time in this city when concerts had a wild passion in them. One wonders why such an aesthetically vibrant era was over so soon. Just think about it; it’s not like the 90’s were a time of peace in this city; there was always ethnic strife and small proxy wars going on in Karachi’s ghettos back then as well. So then what was keeping it all at bay? Was it because back then, Pakistan’s developing music industry had realised its potential and was on its way up? Perhaps they had more opportunities to gain sponsors, which are harder to find now? Or maybe people appreciated music more back then than they do now? I think none of these are true. With the music scene in Pakistan at a more mature stage and sponsorships being available, not just locally but in our neighbouring country as well, it cannot be a money issue. Also, it cannot be an issue of talent suddenly dissipating from our society because one listen of any episode of Coke Studio will tell you that we have ample talent. Obviously the phenomenal success of Coke Studio and some 20 odd FM channels tells us that Pakistanis love music in every shape and form, and I am not just speaking of the more endowed strata of society. The most musically attuned Pakistanis will be found in our masses, who break into song and dance whenever possible, even while performing tasks in urban or rural settings! [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Ahmad Ali Butt revs up the crowd at a local concert. Photo: File[/caption] I distinctly remember, during my school days, when we would see the simple but colourful posters of concerts happening in venues like the Arts Council. We would save up money to be able to witness musicians like the Vital Signs or Aamir Zaki play and they made us believe in a Pakistan devoid of the negativity surrounding it even in that day and age. These were no-frill venues with people sitting on stone steps most of the time; tickets were cheap and everyone, regardless of class or background, could go and enjoy the music. Yes, fights broke out then too, but they never managed to impact the mad rush at the gates. Pakistani spirit was high and everyone wanted in on the fun. The air in Karachi was festive despite the political turmoil. This was our break from everything sad and gloomy. It was a way for us to break free of the darkness engulfing the city, without having to leave the country. We knew that the next day, the rat-race would begin once again, but we also understood the importance of such events to the sanity of our citizens. We would gather at the request of anything, from ‘kidney centre organised walk for a cause’ to a simple carnival or flower show. We took whatever we could get and in return we provided our very own musicians the encouragement they needed to work harder and strive for better. But where did those glory days go? [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] A crowd cheer during a concert in Karachi. Photo: AFP[/caption] Why are our children being made to live in a bubble? Why are they stopped from meeting their friends or attending any sort of theatre or performances even now? The first thing that comes to mind is the cost and secondly, our own mentality acting as the biggest barrier between our kids and simple entertainment. Event organisers need to understand that it isn’t just ‘top performances’ that will attract crowds. People will come for anything good if the ticket prices are reasonable. Once these events soar, top artists and performers will reduce their prices as well. If nothing else, it will be for the sheer energy that one can draw from a spirited crowd. When it comes to our mentality, we need to stop thinking of the worst consequence in every possible scenario. Yes, we live in a volatile environment but that doesn’t mean that every time there is a play or concert, we should avoid going for the fear of being ‘targeted’. Can you give up your job just because you are scared you will not make it back alive? No, you can’t. In the same way that a job is a necessity, so are breaks. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] A concert featuring Noori and Karavan, along with some underground bands was held in Karachi. Photo: Publicity[/caption] Plus,  for those who still fear the worst, there are many small scale performances that take place too, for example, T2F (The Second Floor) puts up acts and musical performances every week! The point, I am trying to make, is that we are becoming increasingly limited as a society on entertainment options and we have no one to blame but ourselves. We either eat out, and any doctor will tell you how many of us are suffering due to that pastime, or we crib and complain. We have to be able to let go and have a little fun. It’s alright, nay healthy even, for a teenager to wait and count the days until they can see their favourite band play live. That is the whole point of growing up in a city like Karachi where all the cultures of this nation are fused together in a melting pot. We need let go of all the negativity, hate and constant judging, and just realise that it’s completely fine to have fun. I would genuinely like to see my kids growing up and enjoying the full spectrum of life this city can provide; the same city that I enjoyed my childhood years in. How do you want your child’s future to be? Seeing and experiencing the world through first hand or living off of whatever second hand portrayal they can get from those who lived here in the past?