Where cobwebs dwell...
It was the love of books and the desperate quest of a suitable place to do my environmental photojournalism essay on that compelled me towards visiting an icon that I had grown accustomed to seeing for as long as I can recall as just a structure on the route linking the old part of the city to the new one. One extremely sunny day in October 2005 I finally braved the task of visiting the place I had heard of as being “gone to the dogs”, rat-infested, neglected and vanishing. I remember being overwhelmed by nostalgia of times bygone the minute I set my eyes on the impressive edifice remnant of the golden age of the city I call my own and yet remain ignorant of several of its marvels. Nestled amidst ancient foliage in the heart of Karachi lies one such structure of marveled history, a place rich in culture and heritage containing one of the largest literary collections this city can boast of. The Frere Hall Library is an icon of a renowned past and a forgotten history. Now ill-fated to neglect and succumbed to disregard this glorious structure awaits to be rediscovered.
The construction of Frere Hall was commenced in August 1863 and it was completed in 1865 at a cost of 180,000 rupees. It was raised as a memorial to Sir Bartley Frere, Commissioner of Sindh, on his elevation to the Viceroy’s Council. The double storey structure served as a town hall at the time of its inception and was the hub of Karachi’s socio cultural activities. Soon after it became being utilized as the first Museum of Karachi and the municipal library.
The once magnificent and glorious structure that now lies covered in dust, grime and pigeon droppings needs to be recognized as an important gem in the heritage of our country and thus preserved with due importance. We are losing absolutely brilliant pieces of history and architecture due to neglect and thus, our generation, keeping myself as the most obvious example, is extremely ignorant of such architecturally and culturally saturated paradigms. The heavy wooden double doors open directly into a reading room flanked by some chairs and two tables, from the left a large window provides appropriate sunlight for a reading room. As I walk on the feathers, droppings and dust laden floor I think of the once brilliantly polished off-white marble floor. Where cobwebs now dwell, amidst the teak bookshelves lies the potential of a place thronged with avid readers. Underneath all the dust and grime lie still, books waiting to be touched once again. With the perfect amount of sunlight entering the library and ample ventilation due to the large arched windows, the potential of a much needed public library exists, the form architecturally fit and complementing this function particularly well. Spacious enough to house over seventy thousand books, manuscripts, 6 different issues of newspapers received everyday, dictionaries, atlases and technical books, it is a shame to see such a place being succumbed to neglect. I take the passageway that leads up to the desk of the librarian and am suddenly affronted by a rat, thus proving the “rat infested” theory. On both sides bookshelves are stacked to the max with an array of shelved heritage. On the right side in the rear a winding staircase leads to the top floor of the Frere Hall Library, where no person has been allowed to step up for the past one year, and therefore I remain uninformed as to what it holds. As I approach the end of the passageway and enter the second hall through a wooden arched opening, I face the librarians desk which has a clear view of the entire library. At the back of the librarian’s desk is another large pointed arch shape window, basking the second hall in warm evening sunlight. Towards my right are reams of newspapers, and rows of books and records dating back to 1958. Towards my right at the end of the room is another such window which lights up the rest of the library. It actually tears me up to see something that I feel so strongly about being wasted in this manner, because Frere Hall library, though not designed for being a library, would be able to function perfectly as one, if repaired and maintained. And the desperate need of a public library in Karachi would be fulfilled. As I take one last glance at the surroundings, tales of yesteryear are warmed up by the light of dusk.
Annals await amidst a dark and silent backdrop to once again see the light of the day.
The construction of Frere Hall was commenced in August 1863 and it was completed in 1865 at a cost of 180,000 rupees. It was raised as a memorial to Sir Bartley Frere, Commissioner of Sindh, on his elevation to the Viceroy’s Council. The double storey structure served as a town hall at the time of its inception and was the hub of Karachi’s socio cultural activities. Soon after it became being utilized as the first Museum of Karachi and the municipal library.
The once magnificent and glorious structure that now lies covered in dust, grime and pigeon droppings needs to be recognized as an important gem in the heritage of our country and thus preserved with due importance. We are losing absolutely brilliant pieces of history and architecture due to neglect and thus, our generation, keeping myself as the most obvious example, is extremely ignorant of such architecturally and culturally saturated paradigms. The heavy wooden double doors open directly into a reading room flanked by some chairs and two tables, from the left a large window provides appropriate sunlight for a reading room. As I walk on the feathers, droppings and dust laden floor I think of the once brilliantly polished off-white marble floor. Where cobwebs now dwell, amidst the teak bookshelves lies the potential of a place thronged with avid readers. Underneath all the dust and grime lie still, books waiting to be touched once again. With the perfect amount of sunlight entering the library and ample ventilation due to the large arched windows, the potential of a much needed public library exists, the form architecturally fit and complementing this function particularly well. Spacious enough to house over seventy thousand books, manuscripts, 6 different issues of newspapers received everyday, dictionaries, atlases and technical books, it is a shame to see such a place being succumbed to neglect. I take the passageway that leads up to the desk of the librarian and am suddenly affronted by a rat, thus proving the “rat infested” theory. On both sides bookshelves are stacked to the max with an array of shelved heritage. On the right side in the rear a winding staircase leads to the top floor of the Frere Hall Library, where no person has been allowed to step up for the past one year, and therefore I remain uninformed as to what it holds. As I approach the end of the passageway and enter the second hall through a wooden arched opening, I face the librarians desk which has a clear view of the entire library. At the back of the librarian’s desk is another large pointed arch shape window, basking the second hall in warm evening sunlight. Towards my right are reams of newspapers, and rows of books and records dating back to 1958. Towards my right at the end of the room is another such window which lights up the rest of the library. It actually tears me up to see something that I feel so strongly about being wasted in this manner, because Frere Hall library, though not designed for being a library, would be able to function perfectly as one, if repaired and maintained. And the desperate need of a public library in Karachi would be fulfilled. As I take one last glance at the surroundings, tales of yesteryear are warmed up by the light of dusk.
Annals await amidst a dark and silent backdrop to once again see the light of the day.
