KARACHI: The crowd jumped up in excitement and applauded as flames erupted from the mouth of Zulfiqar Hussain, illuminating the darkened stage around him.
Dressed in traditional ‘jangli’ attire with his face painted black, Hussain’s fire dancing performance is both a reflection of his struggle against a life of difficulties and a way to showcase the unique cultural identity of Lyari, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the Pakistani port city of Karachi.
Fire dancing is a dramatic art form in which performers manipulate flames to create striking visual displays before an audiences or as part of rituals. Originating in Polynesia, it was part of cultural traditions like Samoan fire knife dancing but over time has evolved into global variations such as poi spinning from New Zealand, fire breathing, and baton twirling. In African culture, a fire dance typically represents a connection to the spiritual power of fire, signifying purification, courage and ancestral connection, with many tribes using it in rituals to appease fire deities.
Modern-day fire performers blend traditional techniques with music and choreography to captivate audiences. In Lyari, dancers wear jungle-themed costumes and paint their faces with watercolors before each performance. They dance to the beat of drums, drawing influences from African tradition.
“The prime thing for me was not Lyari, but I wanted to see the outer world in a better way,” said Hussain, 57, who began fire dancing in 1986 at the Arts Council of Pakistan (ACP) in Karachi, inspired by his mentor Ibrahim Dada.
For Hussain, the ACP stage was his gateway to the world beyond Lyari, a neighborhood known for its vibrant sports and literary culture but which has also for decades grappled with drug abuse and gang violence.
“Our ancestor, the master of the masters, Malang Charlie, brought this art from Africa in 1947,” Hussain said, saying the blend of African and local traditions had given Lyari’s fire dancing a distinct identity.
The art form has also helped the father of four, who worked most of his life as a mechanic and a driver, fight personal turmoil, including an early-stage cancer diagnosis in 2019. Following a year of treatment, Hussain returned to the stage in 2020, saying his desire to perform again was a source of strength and motivation for healing.
“As long as life is in me, I will keep doing this,” he said.
Hussain, who has performed at weddings and shows across Pakistan and internationally, lamented that the art of fire dancing was “undervalued” in Pakistan.
“In our country, there is no value for such things,” he added.
But despite a lack of recognition, the performer continues to teach others, ensuring the art form survives.
Hussain has mentored a majority of the up to 30 students currently practicing the art in Karachi, with many of them going on to perform on the local and global stage, keeping the flames of the tradition alive.
Abdul Hafeez, 38, one of Hussain’s disciples, said the challenge of being a fire dancer was assuaged by the energy of the audience.
“When people around us feel good, we feel good doing it,” he said.
But fire dancing is also replete with danger.
“You have to watch the wind, look at the audience, and check the place. Then you have to look at yourself. Only then you have to perform the item,” said Arsalan Majeed, another performer aged 24, describing the careful preparation required ahead of each performance.
Despite precautions, accidents are not uncommon, but the thrill and fulfillment of the art outweigh the risks.
“I’ve had a couple of accidents myself. I was pretty burned at one point,” Majeed confessed. “But it happens, the mind wanders, doesn’t it?“
Hafeez, Hussain’s student, also lamented the “unpredictable” income earned from the art form:
“It’s like air in the pocket. Sometimes it’s there, sometimes it’s not.”
But for Hussain, the fire he dances with symbolizes “the fire of the belly” — the need to survive.
“If there’s no fire in the belly, there’s no need to light this one,” he said, pointing to one of his torches made with cotton gauze. “The fire in the belly is greater, and for that reason, we keep playing with fire.”
