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har cheez ka review: Deutsche Literatur zu Pakistan – die unkonventionelle Betrachtung

Kamran Akmal ist IndoPak, Shahid Afridi AfPak und gemeinsam sind sie, wenn sie auch manchmal nicht einer Meinung sind, drauf und dran Sportgeschichte zu schreiben, die in Mitteleuropa ähnlich wenig wahrgenommen wird wie gelebter Sufismus, subkontinental Klassische Musik, Chaman Charras oder moderne pakistanische Photographie. Es sind dies auch nur Ausschnitte aus einem Gesamtbild, haar cheez ka review würde nicht nur die Umpires verwirren sondern vor allem den europäischen Betrachter. Aber sie deuten eine Diversität an, der die derzeitige Berichterstattung über das Land nicht im Ansatz gerecht wird. Continue reading

Tribute to Baber (Concert at St. Anthony School in 2007)

Round the corner of PU University even heavier load waited. A Maulvi, with a red beard that probably weighed 2 kilos and a Turban that had double the weight stuck his thumb out for a ride to Doctor’s Hospital. And because I never took a real Maulvi on my bike before – yes, sure get on. The bike had troubles moving from the spot, this 150 kilo guy pulling it down in the back. But his warm ‘May Allah give you a long life’ made up for the 5 minutes I lost because of his weight. It was 3 am when I passed the U Turn on the Canal where the Morning Motor Cycle races were just about to start and a Tractor full of Straw blocked two lanes. That’s Lahore. And for days like these I love this city and this country. Continue reading

As long as the birds sing – APMC Concert at Jinnah Bagh 2007

‘Classical Music has always had a small audience, but as long as the birds sing, so will we. Nobody, nothing can stop music.’ Hayat Ahmed Khan (Founder of APMC) Continue reading

Pakistan’s free media – free in what they make up

In response to the following article, published in Daily Times Pakistan, Lahore Edition, on 5th of March 2008 I wrote a Letter to the Editor to somehow make clear what’s spooky and whose bed has shaken harder … Continue reading

Lahore Observed

I was sitting in front of Shah Jamal yesterday, sipping my Chai at 1 in the morning, watching the rush. A guy, 50 in age perhaps, with long dreadlocks reaching his behind, was crouching on a horse cart, looking slightly taken away by the Joints he was smoking. He was wearing a piece of cloth, not more. His follower, a young fair man who just wore a toga and heavy chains around his neck, was bustling between the horse and the Sufi, talking to each of them. His bare feet munched in the wet dirt road. Continue reading

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