opinion
I often hear elderly people from migrant families speak fondly of their childhood years in undivided India and the early years of Pakistan. Their reminiscences are not just nostalgic but also deeply moving, offering a window into a world where learning and culture extended far beyond the confines of formal schooling. What particularly fascinates me is the practice of learning multiple languages - Urdu, English, Persian, and Arabic - at home. This was not merely about acquiring linguistic skills; it was about cultivating a rich cultural and intellectual heritage. Families, free from the pervasive influence of screens, found time to engage in meaningful conversations, explore the complexities of life, and share moments of music and poetry together. These interactions created a vibrant environment where learning was a communal and evolving experience, rooted in tradition and personal connection.
In this nurturing setting, religion and tradition were seamlessly integrated and were not mutually exclusive. Families embraced their spiritual practices in ways that enriched and complemented their cultural and artistic pursuits. This harmonious integration was not merely about adherence to religious norms but about cultivating a well-rounded appreciation for the arts and intellectual growth. Families were not just repositories of religious traditions but also centres of literary and musical appreciation. The practice of reading and discussing books and poetry was commonplace, and musical gatherings, where traditional and classical music were enjoyed, enriched the environment. Such baithaks were not rare; they were an accepted feature of family life in many households, reflecting an engagement with the arts and the community. At the same time, children were introduced to the Quran at an early age and religious traditions - Milad, Majlis, Ramazan, and Eid - were observed with due reverence and respect. This balanced approach ensured that while the intellectual and artistic aspects of life were cherished, religious values were also upheld with sincerity. There was never a conflict and people lived a balanced life.
Education in those days was not equated with schooling but was a holistic process involving various dimensions of personal growth. Parents and elders ensured that children’s education was not restricted by institutional boundaries but was a continuous, learning experience. Tarbiyat was an essential ingredient of education. This approach helped build a deep appreciation for literature, art, and languages, providing a foundation that was both broad and enlightened.
One of the most striking aspects of this environment was the profound emphasis on inclusive social interactions. Parents did not restrict their children to friendships with those of the same faith or sect; rather, they encouraged a broader, more inclusive approach to social relationships. In fact, faith was rarely, if ever, a topic of discussion in social gatherings, as there were countless other subjects of interest and learning to engage in. Interfaith friendships were actively nurtured, and the community was built upon a solid foundation of mutual respect, understanding, and cooperation. People from various faiths coexisted in harmony, with their children forming genuine and enduring friendships that transcended religious boundaries and lasted a lifetime. This inclusive attitude helped to create a vibrant and dynamic community where faith was seen as a personal matter rather than a divisive force. Faith was neither questioned nor used as a basis for exclusion; it simply did not become a point of contention. Visiting neighbours and friends from different faiths and participating in their festivals and ceremonies was embraced with openness and curiosity, never becoming a source of concern or discomfort. The values of mutual respect, accommodation, tolerance, and a strong sense of camaraderie were central to this way of life, making it not only harmonious but also enriching and deeply interconnected.
The elders who grew up in such an environment, where art, literature, music, poetry, and religious traditions were deeply entrenched into daily life, exhibit personalities that truly inspire us. These individuals were nurtured in a setting where intellectual and cultural pursuits were not just hobbies but integral aspects of their existence. As a result, they possess a depth of character that commands respect and admiration. Their ability to weave profound insights into everyday conversations, their nuanced understanding of complex issues, and their genuine connection to their cultural roots set them apart. It’s not just their wisdom that catches our attention but the grace and authenticity with which they express it. Their lives are like a beautifully composed melody in a world often filled with discord; their refinement is evident and striking. In an era where superficiality can overshadow substance, these elders remind us of the value of true sophistication - a rare and cherished quality that stands out distinctly amid the clamour of modern life. Their experiences and the way they carry themselves embody a timeless elegance of knowledge that continues to resonate deeply with those around them.
What can we learn from them? One key lesson is the importance of embracing and taking pride in our traditions and culture. In an age where there is a tendency to pit culture against religion or to imitate external influences while neglecting our own traditions and roots, we risk stifling our intellectual and emotional growth. Our heritage, rich with diverse influences and practices, offers a unique framework for personal and communal development.
Today, contemporary observations reveal a shift in familial and social dynamics. Some modern households appear to lack the warmth and welcoming spirit that once defined our interactions, especially within the family. I recall a few instances where, upon visiting extended family, instead of being greeted at the door and welcomed with respect, I witnessed people hurriedly going in to their rooms and locking the doors. This behaviour, often driven by new social norms where women retreat in the presence of male relatives, contrasts sharply with the open and inclusive spirit of the past. This shift is unsettling, reflecting a broader trend that threatens to undermine the warmth and cohesion that once characterised our family interactions.
In reflecting on these changes, it is clear that while the world around us may evolve, we have a choice in how we preserve and adapt our cultural and familial values. The warmth and richness of the past need not be lost entirely; they can be revived through a conscious effort and a renewed commitment to tradition. By embracing our heritage and creating an environment where art, literature, music, and genuine human connection thrive, we can ensure that the essence of what once was continues to inspire and shape who we are today and who we become tomorrow.
Junaid Zuberi serves as the CEO of the National Academy of Performing Arts (NAPA) and occasionally writes on social and cultural issues.
He can be contacted at zuberi.junaidgmail.com