The dwindling stock of the shalwar-qameez

Stand up and be counted, guys

The other day I listened to a sermon by an anonymous maulvi sahib that I chanced upon on the social media (the sermon, not the speaker). The medium of the lecture was Punjabi, and the speaker had his audience in a trance.  Being of a less religious bent myself, I collapsed in multiple fits of laughter. I must mention here that though I mainly listen to these things for entertainment, I make it a point not to dismiss the contents out of hand. Broadly speaking, the speaker made two points: enjoyment of sports invented by disbelievers was tantamount to disbelief; and to appear like a disbeliever (he was referring to western garments) was strictly forbidden as well. Exclusively enjoying sports invented by believers is no mean task since one doesn’t have very many choices provided sports like baandar-killa, kokla-chhapaki are not one’s cup of tea.  The disbeliever nonsense aside, the second point did get me thinking however.

Despite war-clouds-triggered nationalistic fervor being the flavor of the week, I would therefore like to focus today on a less patriotic matter, namely the alarming decline of our indigenous shalwar-qameez. A few months ago I found myself obliged to appeal to my fellow man to arrest the decline of moustaches. Today, I feel compelled to make a similar appeal on behalf of the institution of shalwar-qameez. Among the middle and upper-middle classes, the shalwar-qameez is still alive thanks solely to the efforts of women; it is the fair sex that has single-handedly been keeping it from being consigned to museums. Now it’s men’s turn to stand up and be counted.

The reason for the decline in the stock of the national dress is not at all easy to put one’s finger on. Anybody who has spent any amount of time abroad would probably relate to the following: A group of Pakistani students in a foreign city are hanging out on a weekend. The discussion inevitably turns to the beloved homeland. Sooner or later somebody is bound to remark that whatever may be said about other things, there’s nothing in the world quite like the Pakistani cuisine. Or it could be similar charmingly nationalistic stuff about somebody’s mother-tongue or home-town or Coke Studio. Of course none of this is even close to being objectively true, but that discussion is for another day. What is relevant here is that surprisingly, shalwar-qameez is never mentioned in this category, for that has already been jettisoned (it is usually let go of the moment one sets foot on foreign soil). I am afraid most women are guilty of this as well.

As mentioned above, back home the scene is not much more promising, as among the middle and upper-middle class urban males it is all but completely extinct, except as a sleeping-suit or prayer-wear or in the form of some sort of an embroidered eye-sore worn on Eid. This dress is now strictly associated with the lower classes. If somebody challenges this identification, let him wear it to a government office and see how the clerks treat him. Contrast this with other nations, which take pride in their cultures.

One simply can’t have imported solutions to indigenous problems. In seventy years we have not understood the simple fact that our climate is not exactly temperate. A lounge suit and tie in 40 degrees, 80% humidity, a scorching sun, and load-shedding – are you kidding me? Lawyers go a step further: their uniform: black trousers, black coat and black tie. Are we really a free nation? The evidence is not very promising.

And it is much more than a matter of culture and heritage. Shalwar-qameez is a winner in view of a long list of practical aspects as well. It’s extremely comfortable. It’s discrete and modest. It hides the extra pounds beautifully – a crucial aesthetic consideration.

There are other benefits: Naala is an amazing pliant invention that renders the shalwar extremely adaptable, with a facility for continuous adjustment over a large range. Contrast this with the western trouser, which becomes absolutely useless with the smallest change in one’s waist. On account of the discrete adjustment and small range, the western belt too is no match for our naala. Coming to security issues that are always of paramount importance in Pakistan, the shalwar pocket is the safest place on earth to keep one’s money and other valuables. I could easily go on if I was not constrained for space.

Let me answer here a frequent objection raised against the national dress. It is said that it doesn’t exactly facilitate amateur physical activity. I think it is not a valid criticism. The difficulties, even if they are there, are not insurmountable. All seasoned street cricketers know, for example, that by the simple act of inserting the qameez into the shalwar, one removes the possibility of getting bowled behind the legs with the ball ricocheting off of the loose qameez. In fact with a built-in life-jacket, shalwar is ideal for amateur swimmers. And it is shariat-compliant too (men only). Don’t ask me exactly how it is inflated, but I have seen it in a fully inflated state – perhaps you have too.

Shalwar-qameez may not be perfect. It may not even be the best dress in the world. But it’s ours. Kindly do your part to save it from complete extinction.