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that this was the last time I'd see it looking essentially the way it had
since the late sixteenth century.
By early evening, Ray and I were in Lahore, one of innumerable
cities referred to - usually in awful irony now - as the Paris of the
East. Crossing from India into Pakistan, the first thing I noticed was
how much more run-down the place looked compared to the land
connected to it before Partition. Squat, crumbling structures,
potholed roads, hardly a sign of those few concessions to the late
twentieth century that were visible in much of India, especially
power and communications. Far from being an Oriental 'Paris,'
Lahore - much of it, anyway - was a shambles of heat-blistered
rubble, makeshift mud brick or cracked concrete huts, and
overgrown expanses of dessicated weeds. It seemed nearly deserted,
too.
The Intercontinental Hotel's five-star modernity merely
emphasised the decay outside; but even it seemed afflicted by a sinister
stasis that made you feel you were disturbing the staff. And this staff
regarded us with deep suspicion. Passports were held for police
inspection; all movements appeared to be monitored as if the only
reasons for Westerners to be here were the wrong reasons. I felt
distinctly uneasy. Ray shrugged it off as he shrugged everything off,
announcing that he had 'some business to take care of.'
Left alone, I entered the freezing, deserted bar and drank a couple
of doubles to relax me. This was an Islamic state, so alcohol was
served to foreigners only. A personable old bartender with a British-
style military moustache asked me enough questions to justify his
trust, then proceeded to tell me how General Zia was ruining the
country. I was cautious with my answers, not certain that I could
justify my trust.
'This city was once so full of life,' he confided. 'Nightclubs,
singing, laughter . . . Now it is dead. No life. We do not like this
sharia , Islamic law. It is not for our people.'
Zia's piety, I heard, was a sham - something designed to impress
his oil-rich fundamentalist pals in the Middle East. He was spending
all the country's money on mosques - just for show - the most
ambitious named after him and currently under construction. Zia
did not seem to be a popular dictator.
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