Fakeera

In the morning, I left to catch a bus to Tando Allayar. Waqar, the video journalist was coming back from some travels to Hala and Bhitshah and we were both going to meet in Tando Allayar to visit an amazing sculptor who lives there, named Fakeera. After waiting a while and asking several buses that came by, I found the right one and boarded. There was no place to sit and the aisle was particularly narrow, but I was glad to be on my way.Snack sellers hop aboard buses and walk down the aisles then hop off to find the next bus. There was one on this bus, and as he made his way to where I was at the back of the bus, I squeezed to the side to let him pass, but there really was not much room, particularly with his snacks. He started getting annoyed with me and elbowing my back as he squeezed past. I find my large, boots useful for all the nasty stuff I walk through during this work. They also came in handy just then. I told him not to elbow me then let me boots communicate the rest.The conductor decided he might be able to find a seat for me after all. This travel is no fun for anybody, and I try to be very polite to people, but there is an aggression at times for people to get through and they see you as just an obstacle. I see this a great deal on the road and at times like this on the bus, or when trying to get something in a “line”. Sometimes I feel like you do have to push back, while other times it is best to be patient. I walked over to the front, where there was a seat next to a man which he had placed his bags on. I motioned to the seat. He looked at me and asked where I was going, not moving an inch. I told him. He sat unmoved for a moment, then finally picked up his bags and put them in his lap. I did not say anything. I just stood there, not moving, until he slid over and gave me the seat.I sat down, and looked out the windows around me. Some bits were familiar from my trip back from Umerkot. The lovely intersection where the police stopped that bus and would not let it go for what seemed like forever, as other vehicles went past and other dusty, miserable memories.The man next to me, at one particular stop shared a complaint about how the bus was taking so long. He had been on the bus since early in the morning from Karachi, and it would be several more hours of suffering before he reached his destination. I nodded and expressed sympathy. Later when we past a town, I asked him which town it was. It was Tando Jaam, where some of the musicians I have met live. He told me that my destination was further as he became more friendly. I feel the same way during this travel. It gets to you. There are so many challenges and discomfort is too weak of a word for what you go through. That’s why people, including myself get angry and irritated. That’s where this guy was at mentally when I came over to request the seat next to him. Underneath it all, he was nice enough, just made miserable by the situation.

I thanked him once I reached my destination, then called Waqar. It was loud and we were trying to communicate where we were. After several minutes we realized that we were on either side of a Qing Qi. We hopped aboard and went over to Fakeera’s neighborhood. After asking around a bit and a few phone calls, we met one of his students who took us there.As soon as we walked in there was a gorgeous, larger than life Shiv statue. It was as yet unpainted, but absolutely beautiful. We met Fakeera and walked upstairs to his sitting area which had several busts and a full body sculpture of older residents from the neighborhood from some fifteen years ago. There was a lot of construction going on in the home, but as we had come from a ways, Fakeera made some time for us.

It was really great to sit down with him. He is an excellent artist as well as being very humble. We learned about some of his projects for different Hindu temples (mandirs) and churches around Pakistan. I had actually seen one of his pieces at the Rama Pir festival years ago when I came to Tando Allayar with Fatah sahib and his students from CEAD. In the mandir we visited that day was a sculpture of Rama Pir seated on a horse.

Fakeera’s father and grandfather had been sculptors before him. While the majority of his work came from mandirs and churches, he also received commissions and does gallery work. Part of the process is not only designing and creating a sculpture, but also designing the space around it. One of the recent commissions was from a family whose daughter had died. They wanted a life sized piece to remember her. He had put a great deal of care into each detail of her shoes, jeans etc.His pieces leave for their new homes once he finishes, so we were fortunate that there were a few unfinished pieces for us to enjoy. I really loved his piece of the Avtar Jhule Lal. I appreciated how he considers himself perhaps 55% of the way to getting to where he wants in his skill. He pours himself into his work, as he must feel what he wishes the piece to embody before he can create it. These days, he often works straight on the sculptures having created well over 300 pieces, instead of doing as many preliminary drawings.

With an interest in constantly learning, I asked if he had ever tried a piece of software called zBrush. He had, and was interested in learning more. I offered to teach the basics as it will open up new opportunities for him. I will put together some information and send it to him to get him going. After that, he will be able to take it further with tutorials. He is interested in showcasing the local culture in sculptural works and possibly translating that to animation. We talked about that and some of the work that I do as well.Waqar conducted a nice interview and recorded additional video footage of the sculptures. Fakeera sahib insisted that we stay for lunch. We ate and talked some more. I really did not want to leave, but there were other places we needed to be. I was glad to have gone through the trouble to get here.Waqar and I took a Qing Qi to the bus stand, then caught a bus to Hyderabad. Along the way I called Ustad Anb Jogi, who told me that the female singers I had been working with previously had called and asked that he come and see their progress. They had been practicing since that disappointing day. I agreed to give them a chance. It was not as if I had found other female singers to take on Sur Sohni. I had a few names, I was exploring, but as far as I knew, they would all need training as they did not normally sing this poetry. So what I really needed, was not just someone who was a skilled singer, as all of these potentials certainly were, but they needed to be interested in studying the work to do it.We got back to Hyderabad, then walked through some mango packing areas and across railway lines to get to the railway station. Waqar needed a ticket to Lahore. Each ticket counter attendant was equally unhelpful. They stared blankly as he asked them about tickets, then pointed at another counter, from which he was sent back to the first. Feeling frustrated, he considered taking the bus back to Karachi and trying from there. That is how annoying this whole process is. Eventually, we managed to get a seat for the next day. I gave him the hostel key, and sent him on his way to rest at the hostel.I sat down at a dhaba and grabbed a soda. Ustad Anb Jogi came and got me on his motorcycle and we went to visit the singers. I had them read through the script. The mother did not seem any better than before, but the daughter had spent some time reading the script and was able to get through it with what is a normal number of mistakes. The next step would be to get her singing it. Anb helped her sing the first few verses in Sindhi and Urdu. I explained the story as we went through the script, so she would know what was going on in the scenes for the correct emotions. It took a few hours, but I felt like this could at least be possible.We left and Anb dropped me at Hyder Chowk. I was going to catch the bus back from there. I was nasty with sweat and tired from an exhausting day, when my friend Abdul Majeed Soomro sahib walked up to me just as Anb was riding away. We went and picked up some things he had printed for a client from one of the local printers, then walked back to his office.He did some work, and I made some calls to musicians, now that I was in an office and could hear the phone. I made an appointment with one singer and scratched off another singer from the list of potentials. After he finished his work, Soomro sahib and I sat down and chatted for a while. He graciously offered to go out of his way and drop me back to Jamshoro. We rode back and stopped off for some food in the corner dhaba of the society area. It’s a big hang out spot, and whenever people go there, they are likely to run into friends.Saqib joined us and some more friends of Soomro sahib’s came and joined us. I was glad to eat and sit in the cool Jamshoro breeze. I was exhausted from the day. After a meal and conversation, Saqib dropped me back. Once again, the meal was paid for by a friend, who would not let me take care of the bill. People are very generous and I appreciate it a great deal.Stinky and gross, I fell asleep in the hostel, without enough energy to shower and become human again.