For decades I spent hours in the Zainab Market area whenever I travelled to Karachi. On a recent visit there, when I did not see the age-old signboard of Almas Book Shop on the opposite side of the road where Zainab Market is situated, I got panicky and asked my driver to park the vehicle where the shop used to be.

I called over the panwaala serving customers at the closed door of the shop.

“There used to be a bookshop here. Has it been closed?” I asked

“Yes. It has been sold.”

“And where is the old shopkeeper?

“I do not know.”

The shop-owner was an elderly ethnic Iranian, Ali Asghar Farzaneh, whom I used to visit whenever I came to Karachi. Besides practising my rusty Persian with him, I would look for books of classical and modern Persian poetry fabulously produced in Iran. He would proudly show me his latest imports. At times, when my budget stuck out, I would buy some of these books.

The death of this bookshop is not the first catastrophe for booklovers. When I started my civil service career from Karachi in the early seventies, there were a number of bookshops in Elphinstone Street (now Zaibunnisa Street). Entering from road from the Regal are, one would come across “Kitab Mahal” to the right. It met its demise ages ago. Then Pak American Commercial Inc was gone. Almas Book Depot (Aryamehr Book Depot until the Iranian Revolution) was one of two old shops left in the Saddar area, the other being Thomas & Thomas, which is almost directly across the landmark former Regal Cinema, with the famous “Regal Chowk” between the two. Let us see how long it is going to take for the few square feet of space providing sanctuary to Thomas & Thomas to be taken over by a more lucrative business.

A journalist bewailed that the recent funeral of a famous columnist was attended by only a couple of hundred mourners in Lahore, whereas that of Tipu Trukkanwala (Tipu the Truck Man) on the same day was attended by thousands. Tipu Trukkanwala was a notorious underworld star of Lahore, equally popular among the police as well as people of his ilk. The truck drivers’ association called for a strike to mourn his death.

In a society where there are no libraries and bookshops are fast vanishing, it is no wonder that hoods are more respected than scholars. A PhD professor would be looked down upon as a “master” (i.e. schoolmaster), whereas a patwaari or an SHO enjoys high esteem. A magistrate summons the principal of a college and assigns him “duty” at some polling station. The majority of the elected “cream of the society” are not even graduates. In countries like Singapore, even India, more than half the cabinet members are PhDs; most of our ministers cannot speak properly or write — if they ever write.

The nation’s aversion to books and writers has brought the country where it finds itself today. How many bookshops are there in FATA and Swat would be in inane question. How many universities or even colleges have been established in these areas during the last 62 years? What about the Bugti and Marri areas and other parts of Balochistan? Is there any university in Qalat, Zhob, Gwadar, Khuzdar or Chaman?

Food streets are thriving in our cities. Bookshops are shutting down. A multinational fast food outlet received 35,000 customers on its first day in Lahore. Open a branch of Borders, Waterstone’s or Barnes & Noble and see the knock-over!

The writer is a freelance contributor. http://www.izharulhaq.net