Random Numbness (October 2020)

11 Pakistani Hindus died in India. They were Hindus after all. No hue and cry. That’s why. Imagine if they would have been Muslims… Sunni Muslims… Punjabi Sunni Muslims? This would have caused an uproar. But just uproar. We get emotional after a couple of days for a couple of days.

Like we got emotional after APS. After Mashal. After Sahiwal Massacre. After Imaan. After Zainab. Now after Sialkot Motorway.

Or like we get emotional for Kashmiris. UNGA speech. One-minute silence each week. Two-minute silence. Three-minute… shut up! That’s not even an average ‘duration’ of men here. But they stood in defiance, against all odds, without knowing and without asking anything.

What else do you want from the herd?

And that’s old talk now. They got Kashmir. We will get Gilgit Baltistan. That was the deal. Hush!

Anyway. Social media had a “Yazid per lanat challenge” vs. “Gustak-e-Sahaba per lanat challenge” for quite some days. While people were sending duly-earned lanats on each other, APS Commission Report was publicly flushed. Utter disgrace. State doesn’t care about blood. Be it of children. Over 130 children.

The guy who accepted the responsibility of APS Massacre, Ehsan Ullah Ehsan, escaped. Was caught. Got primetime slot on television. Became a strategic asset. Then escaped. ‘Apparently’. All in the name of hidden – behind the curtains – ugly business deals.

So, my dear 130+ kids! You are alive forever, as you are shaheeds. Martyred. I know you went to school, not war; but no one goes to war these days. Those who go to war – apparently – aren’t martyred anymore. What else can I say? Apologies? No. Sorry!

Go to Jail. Do not collect $200. That was monopoly, the board game.

Do not got to jail. Collect $200,000,000. That is pizza business. Don’t know how it came here without a good sauce.

War has always been business. For example, when the state was running operations in Balochistan and FATA and Bugti was killed to show power; boys – apparently on-duty – were doing business. Mining. Real estate. Selling people. Stuff. Now the business has expanded globally. Alhamdulillah. Billions of dollars. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. No one is talking about the islands in Australia or the elite estates in Dubai.

Back to the APS Commission report.

Now – again Alhamdulillah – we have two commission reports regarding December 16th. Congratulations! Blushing?

Ok!

Last weekend, people were busy throwing dirt at each other. Apart from Shia vs. Sunni, there was PML-N vs. PTI too. Talal Chaudhary happened. A woman MNA was discussed, along-with her character and #TanzeemSazi at 3 am in the morning. Rubbish escalated and went to ‘najaiz aulad’ vs. ‘shadi se pehle aulad’.

Do you guys ever realize that you are being played? Like pawns in the chessboard working for the Queen?

While you guys fight over the characters of others, you are being molested with your basic rights.

While you are indulging in sectarianism, they are counting profits while indulging in drinking.

While you guys are discussing legal and illegal kids of others, your own DNA is manipulated at your own home. Apparently your own home.

So many ‘apparently-ies’ today. But it is what it is.

That’s all for my catharsis for today. Thanks herd!

Random Numbness (September 2020)

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. A kid is raped.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. A woman is raped.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. A journalist is missing.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. A kid is murdered.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Kafir. Kafir.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Hit-and-run killer in an open-and-shut case is acquitted.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Terrorist escapes from prison. Well, not prison.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Another kid is raped.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Another woman is raped.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Another journalist is missing.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Kafir. Kafir.

Hardly A Tick. Hardly a Tock goes by here, without an episode of degradation of humanity. Then we compare numbers and stats with the West. Is there another state as ugly as this? No.

West includes ‘marital rape’ as ‘rape’ in their numbers. Even then, we are the leaders. The East. Mashraqi Muashra. Self-proclaimed champions of haya and pardah, with gems like Ansar Abbasi watching PTV.

Oh! I forgot.

Welcome to the land of pure. Windmill of martyrdom. A martyr here. A martyr there. A kid here. A woman there. Kafirs everywhere.

After the motorway incident we are expecting justice from those who killed a family in front of their kids. In Sahiwal. In broad daylight. Remember that?

And even if the police does its job, judicial ugliness will surface.

Like Majeed Achakzai went free after CCTV footage of hit-and-run murder of a police constable. What do you expect?

People go missing in the Capital and hardly a judge is able to do anything.

But you hate the messenger. Right? Ad Hominem. Don’t waste time vomiting.

Whenever there is a mess, there is a diversion. For our diversion, the state uses religion. Illiterates – who misuse religion in mosques and madrassahs – come out. Create a mess. Burn stuff. Real issues are flushed. Non-issues become grave. Some dead bodies complete the play. Credits: Unknown directors and known producers.

The split between the Ummah is 1400 years old; since the departure of the Prophet Muhammad PBUH. There were wars between the great companions. Sahabas were killed. Muslims killed Muslims. There are references on both sides of the argument. Equally strong and equally debatable.

Do you think you can resolve that with your hate or violence?

Or by demolishing a shrine or a mosque?

Or by killing a person or two?

No.

None of you is going to resolve anything. Because there is nothing to resolve.

None of your scholar is going to win. Because there is nothing to win.

Namaz was offered 5 times a day. People saw the Prophet (SAW) offering Namaz 5 times every single day. Yet there are differences in opinion on how He offered Namaz. And here we are resolving things which happened once or twice.

1400 years. This split is going to sustain till the Judgement Day. You need to accept it. Tolerate it. And live with it.

You can debate and persuade. There can be conferences. There can be harmony which can lead to a lot better future for our generations to come.

Or do you want your kids to continue your legacy of “Kafir Kafir” on roads? Please, if you may, use contraceptives.

The circle is shrinking by the way. Coming closer to your demise with every passing day. And you think your licking will serve as a certificate? Maybe yes, for you. Maybe no, for your family or friends. Who knows!

When that state machinery needs blood to run, it will consume you anyway. Be it a patriot or a traitor. Be it a Sunni or a Shia. Be it a Muslim or a non-Muslim.

Anyhow.

If something is not igniting violence, hate and discrimination; let it be. Disagree. Criticize. Argue. But don’t stay numb on their abductions. Don’t be happy on violence against your opponents.

As Voltaire said, “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

Like women coming out on marches and chanting things which you never imagined in your wildest dreams. You took marital rape as your legal and religious right. Or convenient denial of its existence. On a bed given to you in a charity. Or dowry. Whatever.

You have to hear the other gender. Even if they are raising debatable slogans. Because this is the first time in the history of mankind that womankind is speaking. Hear them. At least give them space to shout. Let it be.

Again, it’s easier to have an ad-hominem-piss-off after everything. Come and vomit. Give verdicts. And be happy with the state and its writ and its pimping and your licking. Nothing is going to resolve, anyway. Because agriculture has nothing to do with Agriculture Department. Says the  Agriculture Department.

Adios.

Consent

Consent. The big argument.

Yet, we are thrown in this world without consent. To suffer without consent. Emotionally. Physically. Psychologically. Financially. Socially.

Suffer. Till last breath. Without consent.

And then there are threats after death. Threats of eternal suffering. But where is the consent?

Would you have consented to born in this world, if asked?

Have you seen a 3-year old crying with pain in a hospital? Have you seen severe pain on an innocent face?

Have you imagined a sexually abused 5-year old being stitched?

Have you seen kids born with major health issues? Heart surgery at the age of 2? Dialysis at 10?

Have you seen someone finding Operation Theatre in a public hospital with a bleeding girl in hands?

Have you seen a son taking his unconscious mother on his shoulders from ambulance to stretcher?

Have you seen people taking dead body out of the emergency room? Suffering emotionally and hurt financially and broken potentially.

Have you seen the ordeal of people praying outside the ICU or CCU?

Have you observed people lined outside emergency counter in public hospitals, while their loved ones bleeding on an stretcher in scorching heat?

Have you seen pain in the eys of your kid? Or your mother? Or your father? Or a stranger?
Have you stared into such eyes?
Have you seen a very familiar gaze – like of your mother – looking at you for one last time? Getting stranger by passing time? Dying with all the unfullfiled wishes?

And… have you seen request / plea for death? Verbally / non-verbally? People consenting to die? People trying to die? Wishing to die? Praying to die?

‘You don’t know Jack’ perhaps. I do. And I agree with him.

But not allowed.

Misery is allowed, freedom isn’t.

Painful beats are allowed, free absence isn’t.

Killing is allowed too in certain cases, suicide isn’t.

Suicide is also allowed in certain cases, if benefiting a king or a barren land or a gory war.

However, there is no concept of consent in nature. Not at all. Nowhere. A tiger kills any animal he wishes. One has the power to drill his teeth while the other is only born to be eaten alive.

Nothing is consented. Except pain and suffering.

We want the weak ones to give consent to the powerful ones. Isn’t diat / qisas consent? From the miserable to the powerful?

Freedom denied.
Suffering legalized.

Questions and questions. Without solutions. Right? Read again. There is no solution. Because there is no consent.

Or you can denounce. Denounce everything. That exists and that doesn’t. Maybe then you will see a light at the end of this miserable tunnel of being. Or maybe that will lead to another tunnel. Who knows? Were neither asked nor told.

Post Script:

Schopenhauer believed that the only way to avoid suffering is not to be born at all. For him, death was the only way to peace. Nietzsche tilted from Schopenhauer’s philosophy and blamed suffering to religion. Like Marx. But Marx mentioned it as an ‘opium’ too to ease the pain for the masses. But this way or that way – you suffer without consent.

Motorway, CCPO & the Hierarchy of Bastards

After thousands of years of evolution, came his gene. He was finally born.

Then after usual upbringing and education, he made a decision.

He rote-learned. Essays, general knowledge, Islamiat, science, poetry and poetic history.

Then he appeared in the competitive examination.

Then he proved to be the ‘top cream’. The gem. Selected in the Police Service of Pakistan.

Then after two decades of service – or whatever – he reached the stage of self-actualization of Maslow’s Hierarchy. This is the stage where a person becomes what he is capable of. Napoleon. The pig on top in the hierarchy of bastards.

After a rape incident, he vomited intellectual stuff – which is a common practice of commoners – like why did the woman choose that route, why she was out at night, why she was roaming around with her body, and why did she choose to be born here… stuff. Intellectual stuff.

Well, one thing is Darwin was all wrong. He didn’t talk about devolution. Maybe because he died before 1947 and never witnessed this decomposing gene.

Here, we are going backwards. Gradually. One generation at a time. Soon to be monkeys. Never going to be extinct.

From rote-learning to rotting-in-hell.

You guys were angry on the language of the previous post? Hierarchy of bastards. Pigs on top. Dumb-fucked clerks. Pimping accountants. Well, these are all the words I have to define them and their system.

Tell me, didn’t CCPO prove every single word right? Right.

Even if you agree with CCPO – God forbid – what about the Sahiwal Massacre? Half of the family was killed by security force itself, in front of the remaining half – minor young girls. After cooling down the anger, justice was flushed. All the killers went free. No inquiry was launched about intelligence and tip.

A family on way to a wedding, ended up in a morgue.

And where have we landed?

3,881 cases of rape, 1,359 cases of child sexual abuse, 1,758 cases of violence against women, 12,600 cases of kidnapping of women were registered in 2019 in Punjab alone.

If you make a measurement-scale including economy, tolerance, religious harmony, healthcare, education, honor killing, bribery, red-tapeism, child molestation, rape, murder, peace and terrorism; Pakistan will emerge as the worst country on globe. To argue it as second worst… well the point is made. No further arguments.

And ladies! As you are not halting re-production of your gender here, then at least don’t go out with your bodies. Keep your bodies home. And pray that may this generation go extinct. Somehow. Big-bang. Meteor crash. Something. Somehow.

Hierarchy of Bastards

When Gora Sahibs were settling in India, they needed the Indian blood to assist. For this purpose, a specific mindset was nurtured. A colonial mindset. Jobs were given. Lands were allotted. Bureaucracy was strengthened.
 
And within some time, a generation was raised. A generation of bastards. Who rose as nawabs and landlords and pretty much Gods of people who don’t matter. Like Achakzai mattered and the police constable didn’t.
 
But not only nawabs or landlords. Bureaucrats, clerks and drivers too. Who can mess up things, from your pension files to widow assistance plans to your final submission to misery.
 
That generation of bastards is now everywhere. In every system. In every public office. In every state institution. Behind every single public desk.
 
Driver of a Secretary, well, is a Secretary.
Driver of a Nawab is a Nawab.
Doggy of a Sain is Sain.
 
A dumb-fucked clerk behind a desk has more power and authority than a professor.
A driver has more influence than a PhD scholar’s years of research work.
 
I usually say that if you are down with your self-centered lusts, go visit a public hospital’s ICU. Roam randomly. You will see wrinkles deepened with existence of mere being. You will see slips and bills which are moving from hand to hand for nothing. You will witness people breathing their last breath of despair.
 
But if you want to appreciate death, go visit Accountant General’s (AG) Office. Next to Lahore High Court. People, after years of services, are rolling from one table to another to get their pension or funds or due financial support.
 
A widow will be drifting here and there to get her financial assistance approved. The only source of her income-would-be. After her dead husband. Mind you, she came all the way from Rahim Yar Khan. But – foolish of her – she doesn’t know she’s missing the integral step. Greasing of palms.
 
A 60-year-old ex-government-employee who is now in need to get his paper work done. To be eligible for his monthly pension. But first, he has to give a lump-sum amount to the clerk.
 
This way, money moves upwards. From junior clerk to senior clerk to stenographer to private assistant to staff officer to director to additional secretory to secretary.
 
This is hierarchy of bastards.
And on the top are Napoleans.
The pigs from Orwell’s Animal Farm.
 
Apart from snatching money from the public, there are other ways too. Formal ways. Where money is taken from development and non-development heads.
 
If a genuine TA / DA claim is for Rs.20 thousand, it will emerge as Rs.40 thousand. And all will get their share. Cumulative effect will be in millions in a month. This is precisely why bastards in SO(G) offices are the strongest one in any public department.
 
Similarly, funds are taken out from development scheme. A room that you construct at home, which costs around Rs.5 lacs, will cost around Rs.15 lacs in public work. It will be approved in PC-I with all the costs, estimates and drawings. Everyone, from contractor to SDO to XEN to SE to the Pig on top will get their due share.
 
Other ways are getting funds for office furniture or repair and maintenance. In the end, third-party auditors get their share (which is clearly defined in %ages) and will clear all the loopholes and flaws. Even funds for public mosques are not spared.
 
The bastards of Budget, Account, and Audit are all for such works. Other than accounting and finance, they mostly render pimping services with funds to the masters above them. With their mouths fixed to the masters’ arse, they get their ‘due’ share of whatever the masters’ excrete.
 
And the system is running. It’s working. The one who will try to be a whistle-blower, will be taken to the cleaners. With allegations and fake charges. A woman can even face character assassination if need be.
 
This generation of bastards with pigs on the top is evidently running the republic. From secretariat to public departments to district offices to session courts. Everyone is part of it yet no one is corrupt.
 
Words. Just words.
 
Words cannot burn a system. But I wish. I wish I can burn the entire system one day. But right now, it’s only blood that burns and is wasted.