{"id":113,"date":"2012-03-17T05:56:59","date_gmt":"2012-03-17T05:56:59","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/?p=113"},"modified":"2012-04-06T09:03:32","modified_gmt":"2012-04-06T09:03:32","slug":"old-world-and-new","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/?p=113","title":{"rendered":"Old world and new"},"content":{"rendered":"

Many people mourn the loss of the old world.\u00a0 But I doubt if all past generations had even been privileged to mourn in like manner, for so little changed from one generation to the next.\u00a0 Similarly, given the rapidity of\u00a0 change and the stresses associated with it, I wonder whether future generations will even have the time to reflect on their past, let alone be nostalgic about the times gone by.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n

<\/strong>The \u201cgood old\u201d world<\/strong>\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

It is a clich\u00e9 to refer to the \u201cgood old\u201d world and quite normal to be nostalgic about it.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Good or not, life in the era gone by was slow and simple without doubt, and relatively stress-free.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Indeed, it was excruciatingly slow and painfully simple \u2013 so basic in needs and desires that there was not much to be stressed about. <\/span>\u00a0<\/span>Making ends meet was the basic goal and the business of life.<\/span><\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I count myself fortunate to have witnessed the qualitative leap from the old world to the new.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>I belong to a generation which spans both worlds and is a kind of a bridge between the two.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Born in 1950, I have seen the world change before my eyes in a way that few generations have been or will be privileged to witness.<\/span><\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Most of the things we now take for granted only began to make their appearance from the early sixties \u2013 that, too, in a rudimentary form, in extremely limited numbers and at unaffordable prices.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Like virtually everyone of my generation, I grew up in houses lit up, for lack of a better word, by lanterns with kerosene oil.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>These needed daily servicing, which, like all the rest of domestic chores, was done either by the women of the house or by servants (and I do not pretend to speak for either).<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>A \u201cpetromax\u201d, which converted kerosene oil into gas when pumped and produced light equivalent to, say, a 40-watt electric bulb, was a luxury.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>It must have been quite expensive, for most homes did not have even one.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Petromax was mostly rented for special occasions, such as weddings and large parties, which were few and far between. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The three meals of the day were cooked by burning coal or wood.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Again, it was the duty of the women of the house and\/or the servants to strain their lungs by blowing air into the fire through a tube, especially on damp days, when the effort produced more smoke than fire. After each session, the fire was put out and the kitchen shut down.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Business resumed a few hours later in time for the next meal.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Everyone had to eat what was cooked.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>No choice, no leftovers, no fridge, no junk food, just healthy eating and simple, plain life. If one was fussy about the menu, one would have to wait until the next meal.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I was a lucky kid, for I got my first wrist-watch when I was about ten years old.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>It was an old Limton, discarded by my father, who helped himself to a better one. It had to be wound every day and didn\u2019t show day or date.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Our home boasted a gramophone player which used long-play records with the trademark name \u201cHis Master\u2019s Voice\u201d printed in the centre next to the image of a dog sitting before a large hailer. The records had one song to each side.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The gramophone was mechanically powered by a spring which had to be manually wound up.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

We also had a radio powered by a 6-volt battery, the size of a car battery, which had to be sent to the charger every so often.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The radio required quite an antennae, a wire some ten metres long, strung over two poles on the roof (the higher the better).<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Even so, reception was patchy and problematic.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Like in everything else, there wasn\u2019t much choice of radio stations either. The number of homes which owned a radio were few and those that could boast a gramophone were a rarity.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I was awe-struck on seeing a tape-recorder for the first time in the early 1960s, which my eldest brother had brought from <\/span>England<\/span>. It was the size and had the looks of a suitcase, and probably weighed 10 kilograms.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>But a wonder machine it was, for it could record and replay our own voices, allowed us to add songs of our choice and listen to many songs without interruption.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Tape-recorders became cassette players, which gradually got smaller and better until the first really portable mini-cassette player was introduced in the early 1980s. <\/span>\u00a0<\/span>From 60-minute tapes we moved to 90 minute and two-hour tapes.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Impressive they seemed at the time, but were a far cry from today\u2019s iPods.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Smaller in size than my palm, an 80 GB iPod can store 20 thousand songs, as well as perform such other \u201cauxiliary\u201d functions as taking still and video pictures. A smaller version, the size of a thumb, can store 240 songs.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I vividly remember the first time I made a \u201cphotostat\u201d copy.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The year was 1969.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Needing a copy of my mark-sheet, I had to travel some distance to find a shop that had a \u201cphotostat\u201d machine.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cPhotostat\u201d was done on special paper.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>After the machine took an image of the original, the paper with the still-invisible imprint was dipped in a tray with a chemical liquid and left there until lines and words began to appear after a few minutes.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

That was progress.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Before, the only way to make a copy of anything was to type it out (on manual typewriters) and get it certified as a \u201ctrue copy\u201d.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>One inserted carbon sheets between two sheets of paper to make additional copies as one typed.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Hand-held calculators made their appearance towards the mid-1970s and did not become affordable until a few years later.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Until then, everyone did his calculations the hard way, with the help of multiplication tables which had to be memorized very well at school.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Television broadcasting (black and white) came to Pakistani homes in 1964, first in the two provincial capitals of <\/span>Lahore<\/span> and Dhaka (now the capital of <\/span>Bangladesh<\/span>), followed by <\/span>Karachi<\/span> and Pindi\/Islamabad (1967), and <\/span>Peshawar<\/span> and <\/span>Quetta<\/span> (1974).<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>In those early days, only the very rich could afford a TV.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>But those who didn\u2019t own one didn\u2019t miss much, for PTV broadcasted for only 4-5 hours every evening, with the exception of Mondays, which used to be a rest day (Sunday being the public holiday).<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>PTV switched to colour in the mid-1970s, but most of the broadcasts were still in black and white.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>It wasn\u2019t until the late 1970s and early 1980s that most middle-class homes got TVs and refrigerators.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Colour TVs didn\u2019t become affordable until a decade or so later.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

One of the great pleasures of life up until TVs and VCRs became common was a visit to a cinema hall to see a movie, particularly in an air-conditioned one. It didn\u2019t happen often, but was something to look forward to, a complete and comprehensive experience for the whole family or for a group of friends.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The anticipation, the expectation commenced from the moment one bought the tickets, reaching a climax as one entered the hall.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>From then on, it was 2-3 hours of complete bliss, whether one was watching Indian\/Pakistani movies with their usual mixture of tragedy, farce and comedy or 20<\/span><\/span>th<\/span><\/sup>-century Fox\u2019s \u201cBen Hur\u201d or <\/span>Columbia<\/span>\u2019s \u201cLawrence of Arabia\u201d.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Whether to mourn the loss of the old world or to celebrate the new may be a philosophical question.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Where one stands on this issue may depend on what station one occupies in life.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>But there is no doubt that, in material terms, the quality of life has vastly improved for nearly everyone, most certainly for women, the young and the poor.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

(Published in Daily Times, 14 December 2006)<\/span><\/span><\/em>\u00a0<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Transformation beyond belief<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

In 1873 the French author Jules Verne wrote a science fiction book titled \u201cAround the World in Eighty Days,\u201d a gripping story of the adventures of an eccentric who bet that he could travel the globe in eighty days.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>He made it, but barely. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In February 1946, TWA advertised the inauguration of the world\u2019s first regular transatlantic commercial flights. The four-engine Constellation, the airline boasted, would \u201cput the <\/span>United States<\/span> within swift, easy reach of <\/span>Paris<\/span>\u201d by flying \u201cfrom <\/span>Paris<\/span> to the <\/span>United States<\/span> in 22 hours!\u201d<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Thirty years later, the supersonic Concorde delivered passengers from <\/span>Paris<\/span> to <\/span>New York<\/span> in less than four hours.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The pace of change is simply mind-boggling.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>It is now possible to go round the world fifty times in 80 days on commercial planes, not to mention supersonic military jets which fly twice as fast.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Forget the space shuttles!<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

It is hard to believe that it is just about a hundred years since the Wright brothers first demonstrated, in 1903, that man could fly.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Their first flight was airborne for 12 seconds and covered 39 meters!<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The fourth flew 279 meters at an altitude of just over 3 meters. Today\u2019s commercial airliners fly non-stop for over thirteen hours, carrying over 350 passengers in one hop from London to southeast Asia, Africa and south America, and from New York to east Asia, south America and Africa.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Apart from travel, telecommunications perhaps best encapsulate how much has changed in a very short time in everyday life.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Until the late 1980s, even money couldn\u2019t buy you a telephone in <\/span>Pakistan<\/span>, for bureaucracy and technology conspired to create a situation in which the waiting time to get a phone connection was over ten years.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>This meant that very few Pakistani homes had a telephone.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Having one was a mark of status and privilege.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

In the space of just over a decade, every middle-class home has a landline phone and perhaps as many mobile phones as there are members in the household, barring children.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Pakistanis can now afford to make overseas calls, which even Americans did sparingly only ten years ago.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Then there is the revolution centred on personal computers (PC).<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>When PCs became commercially available in the mid-1980s, they operated on 5\u201d floppy discs with a capacity of 256 kilobytes (KB).<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>One inserted a boot disk first and the computer took a long time to boot, groaning and grunting while doing so.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The PC was \u201cshort-tempered\u201d and would freeze easily and often.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Yet, it was an unbelievable piece of invention, heralding a revolution in typing (now called word processing) and amazing with the things it could do.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Ever since, there has been a non-stop exponential increase in the capacity and ability of PCs.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The latest PCs have hard drives of 320 GB (320,000 MB or 320,000,000 KB). Computer memories (RAM) have increased from a modest 2 MB to 1 GB and speed has shot up from 100 Megahertz to 3.2 Gigahertz.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The Internet has put the world\u2019s reference libraries literally at our fingertips and email keeps us connected in a way that was unimaginable even 10 years ago.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>To give you a specific example of the wonders of the Internet and email, I research and write my column on a PC, email it to the editor (from any location in the world) on Wednesday afternoon, read it in this newspaper\u2019s Internet edition (again, from anywhere in the world) on Thursday morning and get readers\u2019 comments via email from various parts of the world \u2013 the whole cycle of dispatching to publishing to reading to receiving readers\u2019 comments (on a global scale) completed in just about 24 hours.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Recently, while driving from <\/span>Sydney<\/span> to <\/span>Orange<\/span> in <\/span>Australia<\/span> with a group of friends, I had an opportunity to see a Global Positioning System (GPS) in action.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Once the destination has been fed to the GPS device, it gives accurate directions both visually (on a screen) and by voice, aided by an electronic street directory and locating its own position through a space satellite.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>It asks the driver to turn right or left, to keep going straight, or to make a U-turn as soon as possible if one fails to heed the directions.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Someone in the car said that Muslims could do without such a sophisticated device as the GPS.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>All they needed was a voice that kept reminding: \u201c<\/span>bismillah kar kay chaltay rahein <\/span><\/em>(say <\/span>bismillah <\/span><\/em>and<\/span><\/em>keep going)\u201d.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The truth is that the GPS device won\u2019t work in any Muslim country, as they don\u2019t even have printed street directories, which are embedded in the electronic chips that operate the system.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>(Some years ago, I was surprised to discover that homes in <\/span>Saudi Arabia<\/span> don\u2019t have street addresses.)<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Although achievements in space science and technology are more spectacular and those in telecommunications more substantial, the attainments of medical science, particularly organ transplants, must have done more to shake peoples\u2019 faith in the traditional, metaphysical beliefs about life and the correlation of soul and body. <\/span><\/p>\n

I vividly remember the sensational news of the world\u2019s first successful heart transplant carried out by the South African surgeon, Christian Barnard, in 1967.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>However, the 53-year-old recipient\u2019s immune system failed, and he died of double pneumonia 17 days later.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

As of April 2000, there were 55,359 heart transplant patients worldwide, according to the registry of the International Society for Heart and Lung Transplantation. Many heart transplant recipients were alive more than 10 years later. The longest-living heart transplant recipient was still well after 23 years. <\/span><\/p>\n

Medical science has advanced rapidly since that first heart transplant. <\/span>\u00a0<\/span>The only organ that perhaps remains to be transplanted is the human brain.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>A couple of years ago we saw on television an American soldier, 31-year-old Mike McNaughton, who had had one leg amputated from above the knee, jogging with President George Bush with a robotic, prosthetic leg.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

I was too young to care about or notice the reaction of the <\/span>ulema<\/span><\/em> to that first heart transplant, but there can be no doubt that they would have seen it either as a lie and a hoax or denounced it as an act of blasphemy, a declaration of war against god. Now, many <\/span>maulanas,<\/span><\/em>imams<\/span><\/em>, priests and <\/span>pandits<\/span><\/em> must be happy and grateful to be kept alive with the transplanted heart, liver, lung or kidney of a dead person.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The pace of change is simply incredible.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>The last three or four decades have witnessed the most momentous transformation in human history.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Few even have an inkling of what is to come.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>All humanity, or should I say nearly all humanity, has benefited from this progress to a greater or lesser extent.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Many people mourn the loss of the old world.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>But I doubt if all past generations had even been privileged to mourn in like manner, for so little changed from one generation to the next.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>Similarly, given the rapidity of<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>change and the stresses associated with it, I wonder whether future generations will even have the time to reflect on their past, let alone be nostalgic about the times gone by.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

The Pakistani state may have tried to kill history for political and ideological reasons.<\/span>\u00a0 <\/span>But rapid scientific and technological change, which impacts every country, threatens to consign even our recent past to the museum much like ancient history, to a condition of irrelevance.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

(Published in Daily Times, 21 Decmber 2006)<\/span><\/span><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Many people mourn the loss of the old world.\u00a0 But I doubt if all past generations had even been privileged to mourn in like manner, for so little changed from one generation to the next.\u00a0 Similarly, given the rapidity of\u00a0 … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=113"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":115,"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/113\/revisions\/115"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=113"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=113"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.raziazmi.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=113"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}