One of my early memories entails an unforgettable trip to Makli. I must have been twelve or thirteen, and a friend from school had just visited Makli, a place with historic significance, and raved about how beautiful the tombs were and how much fun she had had on the trip. Hanging out with my cousins at an uncle's place the following weekend, I had been telling them about it, so we all went over to my uncle - who used to have a big van in those days - and begged him to take us. We were a bit fearful of reprimand as my uncle was generally quite conservative and also very strict - the whole family feared him - but after some cajoling he agreed to take us.
So we all pile into the van, about five boys and six girls, with my uncle driving. The drive was over an hour long and the eleven of us joked and played during the ride, all in a picnic mood - that is, till we got to Makli.
I can never forget the shock of the moment, when, upon reaching the entry gates, my uncle turned around to face us and said, "Only boys will get out here, girls will sit in the van till we get back." Surprised, I asked why, he glared at me for daring to question him and said stonily, "Don't you know that the dead are able to see the living without clothes on? Girls will stay in the van. No arguments."
I wish I could say here that I rebelled, that I managed to get out and see Makli, that I argued by asking about the dead women who could see all the living men naked, but the truth is that I was too dumbfounded and speechless as I had never ever been before (or after) in my whole life. I only remember the anger slowly rising up as we waited in the van for the boys to come back, the rage seething in me when they did and talked incessantly about it all the way back to Karachi, and my endless bawling as soon as I entered my own house and saw my parents. No words would console me.
Years down, I have still not had the chance to see Makli.
So we all pile into the van, about five boys and six girls, with my uncle driving. The drive was over an hour long and the eleven of us joked and played during the ride, all in a picnic mood - that is, till we got to Makli.
I can never forget the shock of the moment, when, upon reaching the entry gates, my uncle turned around to face us and said, "Only boys will get out here, girls will sit in the van till we get back." Surprised, I asked why, he glared at me for daring to question him and said stonily, "Don't you know that the dead are able to see the living without clothes on? Girls will stay in the van. No arguments."
I wish I could say here that I rebelled, that I managed to get out and see Makli, that I argued by asking about the dead women who could see all the living men naked, but the truth is that I was too dumbfounded and speechless as I had never ever been before (or after) in my whole life. I only remember the anger slowly rising up as we waited in the van for the boys to come back, the rage seething in me when they did and talked incessantly about it all the way back to Karachi, and my endless bawling as soon as I entered my own house and saw my parents. No words would console me.
Years down, I have still not had the chance to see Makli.
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