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Titanic Obsession Grips Afghan Capital
By Mohammad Bashir
(AFP) - Afghanistan's ruling Taliban militia may have banned television, music and cinema, but even they have been powerless to stop the inevitable craze for the romantic blockbuster "Titanic."
Perhaps no other people have been so captivated by the epic tale of love and disaster than the Afghans, who are still in the grip of Titanic fever three years after it found its way into their illicit video machines.
" Titanic! Everything has become Titanic. Even rice is called Titanic these days," an irate ethnic Hazara woman, her face hidden behind the compulsory burqa body covering, was heard muttering at a market here recently.
Television and videos are officially banned in the 90 percent of Afghanistan under the Taliban’ s puritanical Islamic rule, but many flout the law behind closed doors or escape to cinemas in neighboring Pakistan.
Movies which do make it into people's homes are eagerly devoured and leave lasting impressions, especially Bollywood blockbusters, the "Rambo" series and shoot-'em-up Shwartzenager extravaganzas.
But it seems that what Afghanistan, a country at war for more than 20 years, really craved was a larger-than-life love story. The ill-fated ship has become an irresistible trade mark, selling everything from cosmetics, clothes, women's footwear, plastic flip-flops, wedding cakes, boys' hairstyles, vehicles and even rice.
"People just like the name. Things with this trade mark sell better," said Mohammad Hassan, a shopkeeper found trying to offload some Titanic bags, lipstick, perfume and jackets on a group of heavily veiled women.
In Kabul's Chicken Street, famous for its cookies and antique shops, the business of making Titanic wedding cakes has thrived to dangerous levels.
Offending bakers have been targeted by the Taliban’ s official papers and urged to mould their creations into the shape of Afghanistan's historical monuments.
"We are making up to ten cakes per month. These are several times more expensive than ordinary cakes because of their weight and the demand," baker Mohammad Daud said.
Cake eater Mohammad Rafi said it was strange that people preferred to celebrate their new married life with a sponge replica of a doomed boat, but Daud insisted that Titanic cakes were an exciting alternative to the traditional, triple-storey variety served at wedding parties for decades.
Beneath the sugary love story, the period tragedy of the Titanic disaster also has powerful affects on a people torn apart by war and the cruel circumstances of their recent history.
"I liked it because it is a historical story. Many people perished," said a taxi driver who has seen the film three times.
Others liked the special effects.
"I was impressed when the ship broke up but it was disgusting to see so many people dying helplessly," said Yar Mohammad, an elderly resident who remembers Kabul when it was known as a liberal Islamic city.
But for Ahmad Fahim, a young man just arrived from the remote and embattled northern valley of Ghorband, Titanic is just a hairstyle favored by the capital's trendy youths.
"I do not know what it is. I have not seen the film," he said, sitting on barber Khalifa Ashbin’s chair as he ordered a Titanic cut.
The style leaves the fringe untrimmed and the back shortly cropped, like "Titanic" star Leonardo DiCaprio.
Most of the young men who sport the style seem unperturbed that it must go with an untrimmed beard, according to Taliban edicts.
The elderly Naqshban complained: "This only became popular after the damned ship sank."
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