Graffiti: crime or culture?: DT rulz — OK!
By Shahnawaz Khan
LAHORE: Asad luvs Moni. Beware the killaz. American dogs go home. Chalo Chalo
Nishtar Park Chalein. Qadeer Khan hero ya zero? Cum here baybee. These are just
some ways people leave their mark on cities. Whether you want to vent your ire
at the MMA, congratulate Altaf Bhai on his new born baby or cuss out the girl
who dumped you, you can always immortalise yourself with a wall and a can of
spray paint.
But the question is, does graffiti give a city character or is it a crime?
The word “graffiti” derives from the Greek word graphein, meaning “to
write”. This evolved into the Latin graffito, plural graffiti. Simply put,
graffiti is a drawing, scribbling or writing on a flat surface.
It is generally considered that graffiti surfaced in New York for the first time
at the end of the 1960s and beginning of the 1970s. It coincides with the
emergence of hip hop music in New York, which was an artistic reaction to disco.
With this new creativity came a new language that started appearing on the NYC
subway system. A man named Keith Haring began to draw on subway walls and
transit posters. Eventually his work was shown in galleries and published in
books as his art became “legitimate”. More famous than Haring was a delivery
messenger in NYC who left the tag ‘Taki 183’ wherever he delivered
documents. Soon this tag could be seen all over the city. Hip hop artists were
soon to catch up with the trend.
Graffiti in the west has evolved since those times to become a sophisticated art
form. But graffiti in Lahore, while perhaps not as artistic can still be seen as
an important part of the city’s culture. It isn’t just political either;
graffiti in Lahore can help you find a cure for baldness, venereal diseases,
women’s problems and local substitutes of Viagra. If you need to look into the
future, chances are you’ll find a palmist or astrologer if you check out the
walls in the vicinity of Neela Gumbud. “Sixty percent of our customers come
because they’ve seen our wall chalkings,” one astrologer told Daily Times.
“Even if they don’t need us now, at least they’ll remember our name and
know where to come in the future.” In Karachi, a piece of graffiti near Jinnah
Hospital says: Khudkushi na karein, humein call karein (don’t kill yourself,
give us a call).
Anyone visiting a city can get a sense of its recent history through its
graffiti. In Lahore, even after three years of the completion of local bodies
elections under the new devolution plan, photographs, election symbols and
chalkings of candidates have not been removed. In Karachi, you can still find
old MQM slogans etched on walls near Purani Numaish and Lalukhet from the early
90s.
Graffiti is difficult to remove from walls and can be embarrassing for the
people who use the building that has been marked. According to the Punjab
Prohibition of Expressing Matter on Walls Bill 1994, people caught can be
punished with imprisonment for up to six months or fined up to Rs 5,000.
However, the law also says that it is not an offence if the owner of the wall
puts graffiti or writing on it themselves.
“But the problem is proving this violation,” says Farooq Amjad Mir Naib
Nazim of CDG Lahore. “It is very difficult for the local government to do
anything because people who put graffiti on walls strike at night.” There has
to be a witness for the authorities to take action, he says.
And he is right. Muhammad Akram, a freelance painter in Royal Park, says that
different people hire him to paint advertisements and graffiti on walls. He has
a crew of trained boys that he sends out at night. “This method of advertising
is great,” he says. “I’m never out of work.”
Graffiti may be against the law, but for many it is an essential part of
business. Many small enterprises have no other option but to use the walls of
the city to advertise because they simply can’t afford ‘proper’
advertisements in print or electronic media. “There are 34 madrassas in Lahore
that depend on donations of skins of slaughtered animals,” says Daniyal, nazim
of Dawat-e-Islami for the northern city. “They have to advertise through
graffiti, they have no other way of getting the message across. And it works
very well.”
And would college campuses be real without any graffiti? “Boys are too shy to
tell the girls they love them,” says Amir Manzoor, a student at a local
college. “So some graffiti might be pathetic messages from love-sick students,
but it’s the only way some boys can express themselves.”
And so while the government may be against graffiti perhaps it isn’t such a
simple thing to condemn. Is it really worth the government putting in energy and
manpower to have graffiti removed and culprits punished for something that will
keep cropping up? There is almost no city in the world that does not have
graffiti and it actually is very important for the survival of some small
businesses. So the next time you see Ali’s message for Maria on Davis Road,
don’t dismiss it, perhaps he has no other way of telling her he loves her.