The Lahoris have spoken on the shawarma vs books issue. Their verdict: shawarma, any day of the week! They announced this on the occasion of this year’s edition of the Lahore Book Fair, at which 1200 shawarmas were reportedly sold. (Eight hundred plates of biryani were sold too.) In comparison, the grand total of books purchased at the event stood at 35!
These numbers could be somewhat inaccurate. In fact, they probably are. But there can be little doubt regarding the loudness and the clarity of the collective Lahori verdict. That books are not a patch on shawarmas happens to be the majority opinion in the Greater Lahore area. There is no possibility of misinterpretation whatsoever, for where words merely whisper, actions scream.
As to what considerations could have led to this collective action on the part of the Lahoris, one can only speculate. For starters, a shawarma comes with the distinct advantage of costing much less than the average book. Moreover, it offers solid and immediate return for money because it typically gets consumed on the spot. Rarely, if ever, does it remain uneaten. In comparison, most books people buy stay unread and spend the rest of their sorry existence on bookshelves gathering dust. What a waste of resources! Especially in the desperate financial straits the nation is in (when it has come down to the very survival and successful transmission of its quite unmatched DNA), nourishment must become the prime consideration. It is obvious that books have little utility in this area.
Continuing on the economy theme, if one is not going to read anyway (as most will not to save their lives), one might as well acquire an e-book, which costs nothing (thanks to easy access to unauthorized copies). Unlike books in hard form, they do not need dusting either. Nor do they occupy valuable space. Since there is no such thing as an e-shawarma (at any rate none that has been invented yet), the shawarma or books question practically answers itself.
Gone are the days when one could impress others by showing them one’s collection of books (even though unread). Now the impression they get upon such a display is quite the contrary: that of a bookish and rather foolish individual.
Also, books are printed on paper. Since hundreds of sheets are required per book, the toll on the environment in the form of deforestation and such is tremendous. In contrast, all shawarma vendors need is one sheet of paper per shawarma (which is usually recycled and dirty) to wrap it in. Shawarmas, then, are good for the environment. Books clearly are not. Admittedly, most Lahoris are unaware of these facts, but that is neither here nor there.
It would be unfair to end this survey without acknowledging a counter argument that could (potentially) restore the balance somewhat in favour of books. That argument is this: Books do have an important nourishing role to play, not for the body but for the soul. The proudest Lahori, and ipso facto the most ardent advocate of shawarma, will be obliged to concede in all fairness that nourishing the soul is something that is beyond the powers of the finest shawarma money can buy. But the validity of the argument hinges on whether souls exist. I, for one, have never seen one. You, reader, may have. Or you may think you have other reasons to believe in their existence. Do you, though? I will leave you with this food for thought.
There are many other things going for shawarmas. For example, it only takes five minutes to get outside a shawarma, and two hours max. to digest it. A book, on the other hand, could take days, sometimes weeks, only to read. (Digesting it is a whole different story altogether.) In this busy day and age, whoever has time for all that! All of us have day jobs. Many of us are blessed with wives too, so who are we kidding?
Anybody can enjoy a shawarma, provided a little hunger and a few operational taste buds (even a plate is optional). What could be more democratic than that! In contrast, books, because they can only be enjoyed by a select few, smack of elitism. Furthermore, book profits mainly go to rich publishers, while shawarma sales typically benefit shopkeepers of a much humbler economic station. Also, consuming a shawarma is a very social activity, for you rarely eat alone. In comparison, reading is a private exercise designed only to increase the sum total of solitude in an increasingly introverted world. Any wonder the Lahoris avoid reading like the plague? You could argue that their commitment to democracy is dicey at best, but there is no denying their social and philanthropic spirit that rank much higher than the national (some would argue international) average.
It would be unfair to end this survey without acknowledging a counter argument that could (potentially) restore the balance somewhat in favour of books. That argument is this: Books do have an important nourishing role to play, not for the body but for the soul. The proudest Lahori, and ipso facto the most ardent advocate of shawarma, will be obliged to concede in all fairness that nourishing the soul is something that is beyond the powers of the finest shawarma money can buy. But the validity of the argument hinges on whether souls exist. I, for one, have never seen one. You, reader, may have. Or you may think you have other reasons to believe in their existence. Do you, though? I will leave you with this food for thought.
