Now she seems like a very interesting lady! i love her poetry at the end, too…and how she has balanced her work/ambitions with this passion to work for her culture and her people. i wonder where she will be in ten years’ time.
By the way, this Kalash lady was taught in a mosque when she was a young girl - she learnt her Alif bay pay at the local masjid by (presumably) an Imam who taught her the Holy Quran as well. She was apparently so good at it that she was used as an example for the other students. For all the negative press that Imams receive these days (sometimes justified, sometimes not), this is something we should pay attention to.
She does make some comments in her interview that the government is in a position to make some more efforts towards helping her people, which (according to her) the government has not undertaken. Anyways, interesting read.
**The changing world of Kalash**, DAWN, Zafar Samdani, 9 September 2004
Lakshan, an outstanding young woman of the Kalash tribe, was born and bred in a village with next to no facilities for education. She became not just the first Kalash graduate, but also the first to learn to fly planes, writes Zafar Samdani.
As we waited for the luggage in the small square shaped arrival lounge of the Chitral airport after a nerve wrecking flight over the Lowari Ridge. I was introduced to a fair looking young woman wearing a light coloured cotton shalwar and shirt. This was Lakshan, a pilot. I had seen her in the departure lounge at the Peshawar Airport where, oblivious to the presence of other passengers, she was busy with a computer. She struck out a well-groomed hand and said: “Nice meeting you,” in a cultured, measured tone. She looked like a foreigner, possibly one who had been around for some time.
The introduction did not arouse much interest in me but the next words of Dr Aziz Bangash, a federal health ministry official instantly caught my attention. “She is the first pilot from this area and a member of the Kalash tribe,” he said. One did not expect a young woman of Chitral, most certainly not a Kalash girl to be a pilot as the tribe is known to be on the outer edge of illiteracy and backwardness. Dr. Bangash oversees the Government’s National Health Programme, coordinates with its implementation with the NWFP and apparently knows everyone in Chitral and Kalash.
I presumed she was based at Peshawar or Karachi if she was flying planes and was touching base. Showing interest in meeting her in Kalash, she said: “I live in Rambore and will be in my home soon. You would be a welcome guest when you come to Kalash.” Her invitation sounded genuine and sincere. Hers has a dream house, Dr. Bangash added.
…] More than one local mentioned the name of Lakshan. She seems to have excited the imagination not merely of her people but others too. Bemburate has a mixed population of the Kalash tribe identified and distinguished by traditions and customs that have been maintained and preserved over centuries. Legends describe them as descendants of soldiers of Alexander the Great, a branch of ‘red kafirs’ of Nooristan region of Afghanistan (where the women’s dress has a red base as against the black base used by in Pakistan Kalash), members of tribes who migrated from the Himalayan Range centuries back or descendants of Slavs of Europe who intermixed with Greeks. There is no agreement on their origins but it is certain that they ruled from Nooristan, Chitral and Gilgit till the Muslim invaders conquered the area around the 13th century.
“One gets to know through the history books that the Kalash people took refuge in mountains to escape conversion and large numbers either perished in the wars with the invaders or they were converted, reducing them to a very small size.”
…] While they remain trapped in poverty, a wave of awareness seems to have marked their lives of late. At least 70 per cent girls attend primary school where teachers are from their tribe. Over two dozen boys are receiving higher (post matriculation) education in Peshawar and Islamabad. “More and more Kalashas’ are coming into their own. But they have a hard task ahead,” says Lakshan, because “basic amenities like education, job opportunity, health, roads, transport and electricity are not available to us.”
We travelled from Bemburate to Rambore to visit Lakshan’s home on a rickety kutcha road. A range of hills intermittently brittle and barren to gleaming green trees and foliage on our left, and a river on the right kept us company on the trip, as there weren’t many signs of life around. A two-and-a-half-hour drive was mostly covered on a deserted track.
Taking a turn suddenly a large cottage with a freshly painted triangular roof appeared in view; it could only be the place described as a dreamhouse by Dr Bangash. With a backdrop of emerald hills and river flowing musically on the other side, the cottage about 50 metres down the road was a sight for sore eyes.
So was Lakshan when she appeared in the traditional black embroidered robes of the Kalash people and the cap of multi-coloured beads perched on her head. She was a totally different being from the one I had met at the Chitral airport, but more relaxed and exuding greater confidence. She already had non-Kalash visitors from Peshawar and as we sat down and started talking, some representatives of a religious political party arrived. She had apparently established communication channels with all segments of the people of Chitral and Kalash and was using her growing influence for the betterment of the Kalash people.
Complimenting her on the tastefully built house, its walls covered withexquisite and intricately designed woodwork, she replied that she could have built a house in Islamabad or Peshawar but “I chose to be here to remain close to my people and try to be of help to them. I am here to prove that education provides strength and should not be confused with something that causes change of identity and entails discarding and disowning tradition and culture.”
For nearly two hours, we discussed all the aspects of her life and her hopes and aspirations for the Kalashas. She complained that the people were being neglected by the government. If a person fell sick in this area, the government doctor would write a prescription but the medicines were available only in Chitral city; the patient ended up spending more than Rs 100 to purchase medicines worth Rs 20.
Local schools offered primary level education but one had to go to Chitral to continue the studies. As a result, most children, particularly girls, discontinued studies after primary level.
“We have old traditions and live almost in the dark ages” said Lakshan with sadness, and a measure of despair, but with her spirit undaunted. “Things will change but it will take time. I hope to play the catalyst for change,” she said in a determined tone.
She lives in the house all by herself, but Vashara Khan her father visits her regularly. He dropped in while we were talking. I could see pride in his eyes as he watched his educated and articulate daughter. She proudly acknowledges his support for all her achievements in life. She often spends a day or two with her sisters who live in nearby villages.
An attractive young woman could be thinking of marriage at her age. “I am 27,” she said without any question asked on this topic. She had an understanding with a Kalasha youth but that ended when she realized that marriage would become incompatible with her work. So she decided to stay single till she could come across “someone who supports my work all the way.”
After our brief stay here we had to return to Chitral and wanted to take an early start. Afternoon was setting in and it was time to leave. I was in Kalash at the time of the tribe’s annual festival when dancing takes place and the young choose their mates. From the hills some distance away, the sound of music was rising: dancing festivities had already commenced. As there was silence all around except for the river water rushing through the mountainous terrain with a boisterous murmur, the sounds of drumbeat and music were ringing over hills and trees.
Would Lakshan be also joining the dance. “I will, though for a short while. Actually, they must be waiting for me,” she said with a sudden transformation from a dedicated and committed woman to a young heart. As our vehicle was passing, Lakshan made her way to the mountains for a brief escape from the demanding drudgery of a dedicated life that gives her sense of fulfillment, but also sadness of a lonely soul on a long-distance trek.
Her other escape is poetry that she writes in both Urdu and English.
In moments of solitude that are becoming rare due to the increasing involvement in community work, she takes up the pen and versifies personal misgivings, wondering what is happening to her. She says for instance:
“The boat is moving away from the river banks / my heartbeat is halting. Since long I have lit the candle of hope (but) the evening (darkness) of life is lengthening. Everyone calls me the centre of happiness but Lakshan, how do I express what lies in my heart, that I am giving up my own happiness.”
There is a conflict within Lakshan. So far she has managed to place the community’s priorities above personal ends. How long can she do this. “As long as I can,” she says.
Does your middle name begin with an “M”? Just curious… you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. 
Was just wondering due to something else. Thanks in advance.
yes, my middle name begins with M and if i’m not wrong you must be asking cause of the article in the same issue of The Review; yup it’s mine! 