FOR the past several years I had to visit the Jinnah Gardens which I used to frequent in my college days. I had a lurking fear that it may not have degenerated into the kind of sorry mess we have made of the Shalimar Garden where in the days of the yore we used to proudly take the visiting foreign monarchs, queens and heads of States by holding colourful State receptions in their honour.
Some years ago, I took some foreign friends visiting Pakistan, to the Shalimar Garden. I was dismayed to see it in a very poor mess. Litters of waste papers, empty cans of left-over food and plastic bottles could be seen strewn around the Garden showing extremely poor sanitation. The fountains were damaged and non-working, the marble walls bore clumsy scrawlings which no body took pains to remove. That horror of the place held me in check from going to the Jinnah Garden, which I thought might give me another shock. But thanks to God, it had a different story to tell than the Shalimar Garden.
A large site plan is erected at its entry point, showing the sites of botanical garden, Masjid Darussalam and its Library, Gymkhana Cricket ground, the historical Montgomery Hall, now housing Quaid-i-Azam Library, Tennis courts, and the Mughal garden known as Gulistan-e-Fatima. In its lay-out, it has been built on the lines of London’s Kew Garden, though the latter is many times larger than the Jinnah Garden.
The one major difference I felt in the present Garden from the Bagh-e-Jinnah of my early youth was that walk-ways and trails winding through the Garden have been much expanded, fully metaled and carpeted than before which obviously have taken a lot of space of the formerly natural growing thick foliage, shrubs, creepers and thickets that had sent cool shadows to the pathways attracting the visitors as an escape from the mundane humdrum of urban life. Now one feels that the garden is more a part of the growing civilization than an escape into Nature. But with time, change was essential and inevitable; nonetheless, it was heartening to see that it still retains the glory of its past, and is a good place of refuge for the retired citizens.
A remarkable new feature added to the Garden was the conversion of part of its space into a replica of the exotic Hazoori Bagh (facing Alamgiri Gate of the Lahore Fort) with a marbled pavilion (Baradari) supported by elegant pillars and cusped arches, opening out on all fours in red brick pavements lined by trees of equal size and measure. There were plenty of flower-beds of various colours and varieties delicately placed alongside which presented a great feast for the eyes.
I, however, saw only small traces of Chrysanthemum this year which used to be the hallmark of Jinnah Gardens. The nurseries were richly green with plants and the three hillocks with their growth of shrubs and bushes added to the mystique of the place. I do not know why the hillocks appeared to be so thoroughly barricaded with a winding steel fence from all around. Somebody told me later that it was to prevent human fancy from running riot at these places of seclusion.
One noticeable aspect of my visit was the absence of gay and colourful faces of the visitors coming to the Jinnah Garden for their morning walk. Quite unlike the lot found in Model Town Park where one could always see exuberant and bright faced & quick-paced men (in full sport gear) and women (in short trousers or knickers) walking past in brisk speed looking over their watches as if in a great hurry.
—The writer is contributing columnist.
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views expressed are writer’s own.
