The City of Men: Life in Peshawar, Pakistan
By Sajad Ahmad
The muezzin calls, and the sound beckons the faithful to the dawn prayer, echoing between the narrow alleyways of the old city of Peshawar, Pakistan, reverberating as the light barely breaks between the dark veil of the sky above. Of what is visible, one can still see the stars above. Yet the houses in the alleyways have an odd sound every so often, of life slowly starting back up again, of running taps, water flowing from pipes, of rooms lit by yellow incandescent light, some replaced by bright new LED bulbs. The sweeping sounds of brooms echo in the inner courtyards, as neighbors listen to neighbors. Many have been living side by side for generations.
Below in the narrow alleyways, footsteps shuffle on concrete walkways as men head towards the mosques, some to their bakeries to light up the mud ovens and get ready to bake the morning bread. It's often the shuffling and the odd sounds from the alleys that wake you up, in a daze.
Continuously populated since around 500 BC, Peshawar was once known as Purusapura, a Sanskrit word for the “city of men”. It is one of the oldest cities in South Asia and has been a center of learning and trade throughout the arrival of many empires.
This is the place of the hospitable. The welcoming people who would share with you what little they have. Peshawar was once famous for giving its own enemies protection if they asked for it. It would become obligatory upon them to protect and be brotherly even to the one that had meant them harm in the past. If a peace agreement was never reached, you had an enemy for life, often spanning generations. Perhaps it was this aspect that most Western civilisations failed to understand. The numerous wars fought along the city’s outskirts stretching to neighbouring Afghanistan are a testament to its character.
It's the old walled city, protected by 16 ancient gates, that garners much interest. Many of the gates are now unrecognisable or destroyed beyond recognition in the decades of expansion the city witnessed. The city has become a true melting pot, yet, the soul of the city remains. The language here is not what the majority of the province spoke, but it's local to the area, known as “Peshawari” or “Hindko” by its more traditional name, while the inhabitants are called “Kharyan”, city dwellers.
Centuries of British Raj and the subsequent drawing of the Durrand line separated the city from its western borders of Afghanistan, hence splitting the Pathan populous into two regions. The effects of this are still felt today. Generational families still inhabit what is left of the old inner city, but many have moved on to newer townships and some have emigrated. The remnants of the old governor's house are still a stone’s throw from within the boundaries of the old city gates. A tourist attraction nevertheless.
So is the famous Sethi house, now turned into a museum, with its intricate architecture, stained glass and designs that rival the beauty of most houses on the Indian subcontinent. The house belonged to a famous merchant family of Peshawar which traded goods as far as the Russian Empire. One wonders how the British Raj would have looked at such an arrangement. For it was the Russian paranoia that motivated a move west. Of the 16 gates to the walled city, many remain, albeit reconstructed to commemorate the old monuments.
The rise of fanaticism and internal conflict has led to more religious tensions in Peshawar. I saw evidence of this with police deployed outside a Sikh temple, yet the Sikh population disapproved of their presence. They feel a part of the city and its heritage and rightly so, for without them, the city would never exist. It was the Sikh civilisation that became the ruling class and impacted life after the breakdown of the Durrani empire between 1823 - 1834 AD.
The death of Ranjit Singh, popularly known as the "Lion of Punjab", and the first Maharaja of the Sikh Empire, in 1839 was an opportunity for the British East India Company. Following the British-Sikh Wars the company took full possession of the city in 1849. With this began a new era. While the local population and nationalist historians would cite the vast injustices of their rule, one can still see the remnants of the Raj (the period of direct British rule over the Indian subcontinent from 1858 until the independence of India and Pakistan in 1947).
The British built railways, hospitals and roads to solidify its hold on the western frontier with Afghanistan. The main reason for this was not to provide for the local population but to create a strong buffer zone from the threatening Russian empire. The Cold War in the form of the Great Game was afoot and Peshawar was at its border. The effects of the legal system left behind by the Raj, with its policies of subjugation, are still felt to this day.
It is perhaps strange when one reads so much about the chaos, the endless wars, the self-contradictory history and subjugation to witness sincerity and faith amongst its populace. The city in its living form has survived the adversity. It has grown into a living example of welcoming all with open arms. The people of Peshawar that remain are hospitable and brotherly, even to an unfamiliar face. With a touch of curiosity, they look, try to understand and then strike up a conversation, to become one with the newcomer.
As the morning light begins to break, the shutters of shops start to go up, children leave their houses dressed in school uniforms. Some run, others rub their eyes, and while most walk to school, some are given a ride on their father's motorcycle, an easier mode of transport in such a densely packed place. Dawn has broken into daylight. Afterschool brings with it the important play in the streets: cricket, toys or pets. It doesn’t matter, it’s the laughter that counts, of memories being made. Of growing up knowing who is who and calling everyone “mama”.
While Peshawar, even in its most recent history has seen more than its fair share of terror, the city is still very much alive, just like the spirit of its inhabitants. There is still hope for a better future, against all odds. Remnants of the old religions remain. Businesses of all types somehow survived and thrived within the ancient walkways. Perhaps it’s the population growth. Or the love for the city. At night, Peshawar, perhaps taking the cue from the famous Persian One Thousand and One Nights truly comes alive. The streets liven up, with food carts emerging and restaurants open till late. In the summer months, the cool night breezes provide relief, while in winter, the smells of warm home cooking and barbeque from its famous eateries drift through the alleyways. It is a place I often find myself at.
Documenting Life in Peshawar is one of Sajad Ahmad’s ongoing projects since 2018.
Writing and photos by Sajad Ahmad
Editing by Mei Seva
Works Cited
Jogezai, Mohammad Khan. “The Issue of Ethnicity in Pakistan: Historical Background.” Punjab University, 2011, Accessed 28 February 2024.
“Pashtuns in Pakistan.” Minority Rights Group, June 2018, Accessed 28 February 2024.
Pelevin, Mikhail. “Seeking Protection and Reconciliation: A Pashtun Legal Custom in Recorded Tribal Histories.” International Journal of Middle East Studies, vol. 54, no. 4, 2022, pp. 687-704. Accessed 29 February 2024.
Rahman, Aziz, et al. “The British Art of Colonialism in India: Subjugation and Division.” NSUWorks, 2018, Accessed 28 February 2024.
Sultana, Razia. “Peshawar: An Integral Part of Competing Empires of Durranis, Sikhs and British.” NIHCR, 2011, Accessed 28 February 2024.
Lovely read and images Sajad. Really makes me want to explore Peshawar and see it for myself :)