EU DisinfoLab

While we – not we – were abducting people, silencing dissent, composing songs, producing movies, fighting on Twitter, and lecturing about 5th generation warfare; the neighbor has actually been fooling the whole world successfully since 2005.

For 15 years, the neighbor has been manipulating the UN and the EU. Even with dead participants. We – not we –were making sensitive tapes for political gains. A dime here, a dime there. A dummy here and a traitor there. Ludo kinda stuff.

And then, you yourself become a victim. See, what happened to Sheikh Rasheed. Became prey to his own bosses. This is sad and disgusting. Principally speaking, that’s no one’s business. Instead of the victim, shame the criminals who trap politician and judges and activists like that. No one should degrade, humiliate, ask for resignation or anything else from Sheikh Rasheed based on this episode. No one should. But, the loud-mouth won’t be spared, I guess.

Anyway, back to business.

Who exposed the neighbor? Number 1? No. Not those who were abducting people, silencing dissent, composing songs, producing movies, fighting on Twitter, and lecturing regularly about 5th generation warfare; but a foreign NGO.

These two South Asian countries have serious basic issues. Poverty, hunger, malnutrition, stunting, health crisis, millions out of school children, farmers’ issues, inflation, water crisis, intolerance, discrimination, and what not. Yet the two neighbors are always fighting with each other for vanity. Spending billions on weapons. Spending billions on manipulation. Spending billions on propaganda to keep cash-cows – like Kashmir – alive.

Business. Nothing more and nothing less.

Sometimes the business flourishes on narratives of patriotism and nationalism. Other times, religion becomes the key ingredient. And it sells. Always.

As Manto said, a hungry human is a hungry human. Not Muslim or Hindu.

By the way, you must be aware of the farmers of India. But do you know anything about farmers of Okara?

Nonetheless, congratulations for now. It’s not a victory for being stupid and foolish for 15 years, but ok. Even the exposé has come from abroad. But you don’t get this.

As Pink Floyd sang: I have become comfortably numb.

Random Numbness (December 2020)

Not long ago, a ‘boy’ was asked about his million dollar pizzas in a TV show, very politely. He left hanging. Literally ran away. He was not even grilled till then.

And that interview was in Urdu.

But – for federal reasons – Ishaq Dar became the only achievement for the government this year. So much so that the ban was lifted to give some air to ARY. Huge success.

After all, it served the imposed narrative. The idiot Dar proved to be an asset for apologists.

Better to have an intelligent enemy than an idiot friend. Dar’s case was uglier.

Or maybe the perfect idea of interviewing is two exactly same idiots as interviewer and interviewee. Like Hamza Ali Abbasi and the PM discussing family matters. Well, I do agree with the PM. He is very well experienced, at least in this field, by all means.

Or maybe the interviewer can be an interviewer and interviewee at the same time. Like Kamran Khan questioning and then answering. And PM nodding, as is his official duty.

By the way, there was another BBC interview of General Durrani. You didn’t watch that obviously. It was pretty raw.

On the exact same scale, we have successes and we have failures. One interview was of the oppositions’ success and another was of the government’s. One exposed the government and the other one exposed the opposition.

With an idiot ruling the country – not ruling though – with duffers behind the curtains – ruling though – with loudmouth ministers and senators, dumb opposition; we have idiotocracy for the herd. And the herd – public-at-large – is dumb-fucked. Choosing sides of either him or her, and forgetting their own selves.

Let’s proceed collectively. The perception is of biases only. Let me give you an example:

There is a guy. Who ruled this country. For long. Has properties in Pakistan, UK, and Dubai. Has billions in accounts. Was convicted. Ran away. Medical reasons. Hidden abroad like a coward.

That guy can be Nawaz for some.
That guy can be Musharraf for others.

Bias. Equally guilty idiots are the ‘selected’ ruling party as are the opposition.

One thing for sure, without bias, is that all the stakeholders failed even after agreeing and praising each other. With the federal government, three provincial governments, and the establishment on one page; things as smooth as Michael Jackson’s criminal, things got messier. They all – together – failed to deliver even basics. Apart from gimmicks like banning and unbanning TikTok, what do they have achieved?

As reiterated before, the backing is for the idea. The idea of democracy. For whatever reasons – vested or invested – PDM stands right at the moment. There is this thin line and you have to stand corrected. You can throw these out later with mere votes. The one PDM is standing against, are in power since 1947, and they cannot be thrown out through ballot. Not even when they lose or are humiliated.

A little diversion.

People stood individually in the past, which always amazes me. How on earth they had this courage to stand in the ugliest of times? Some were abducted. Some got killed. Some never returned. And some were found mutilated. Yet this motherland kept on giving birth to the souls who stood right, even alone.

Sometimes I ask myself, why do mothers in Palestine and Kashmir and Iraq and Syria and Afghanistan give birth? Why do they bring new lives in such harsh times? And then I see these amazing souls who stand alone without a thought of the consequences.

Not like those who sit in front of the PM and lick for hours in recorded interviews. Not like the PM himself who negated every single stance of his when he was talking about public, and lost everything to be on the seat he is. Not these for-sale souls.

Thanks to all the mothers and women who keep on nurturing the generation next even when they know the risks. Thank you to mothers in Palestine and Kashmir and Iraq and Syria and Afghanistan and Pakistan and everywhere around the world.

Adios!

CSS – Essay, English & The Intellect

Passing essay paper of CSS exam is a different game. You have to be on next level (of cramming contemporary essays) and then to pray for the luck.

Out of 10 topics, you have to go for the one. And 80% of people go for the same topic. Because thats the exact one which was in all the cramming books.

Like, give them a chance to write on women empowerment, and you will see 20,000 feminists writing the exactly same thing, at the same time, at the same day, with the same quotes.

And then 99% fail. Isn’t it amazing?

Then comes the ugliest part: those who pass – the top 1% cream of Pakistan – become ACs, DCs and Secretaries. Who issue poorly drafted letters and make a joke of themselves in public. The same public they degrade and avoid.

Like DC Lahore.

Apparently, the cream is rotten. There is no top 1%. The game is for nothing but a ‘pakki nokri’ with a house, a car, some staff and some lickers. All of them joking about the ‘intellect’ behind his/her back.

See any public department. Pick any. Transport, education, health, revenue, lands, planning, development, higher education, communication, works, roads, IT… any.

You will see the clowns with lickers all around, nodding and agreeing to rotten ideas. But the joke is on you with your money and your assets.

Establishment, is after-all establishment.

Now a personal story:

His highness appeared to test himself, without any book or academy. When the whole world was writing about China being taya-abu, his highness opted for “Blasphemy”. Wrote personal views and used not only English and Urdu quotes, but also Punjabi poetry.

Guess what? 65. That’s what his highness scored in the Essay. Fortunately, failed Preci and became forever indebted to The Lord for not becoming a suited-booted-joke.

But sometimes I do think about jokers all around, agreeing to my out-of-the-box and game-changing ideas, and praising my intellect and philosophy of life. Who cares what they say behind my back? Losers!

Rizvi

You have the right to express your views. To dissent. To criticize. To disagree. But if your views ignite hate, violence, and discrimination; then you don’t have the right to express. Because then, you are violating the social space. People die. They die daily. But a dead person doesn’t become respectable or beloved just because he’s dead. That’s emotional instability. Rizvi ignited hate, violence and discrimination. He spat venom against Edhi. He romanticized those who spilled blood. He asked people to go on a killing spree during Faizabad dharna. He distributed religious certificates based on hate. Then, all of a sudden, he left his flag and was cooled down. Rs.1,000 per head were distributed by the boys. That’s exactly where Qazi Faez Isa came. Anyway. According to his own words, he was ‘directed’ by someone to go and sit in Faizabad. He was about to reveal ‘who’, apparently. We know who. Everyone knows. That’s not the point for now. The point is: even his love for the Prophet Muhammad PBUH was directed by someone behind the curtains. You were outplayed with religion this time. Like you were outplayed with patriotism, motherland, goosebumps, and treason other times. He came on stage all of a sudden. He conquered the twin cities within no time. He divided the vote base to make a playing field for the selectors. Then he became dangerous. Not needed anymore. Was arrested, labeled, discarded, and dusted. Routine story. They are made. They are used. They are flushed. Simple. The number of people at the funeral. Well, is that even an argument for anything? Go and check history of funerals. The numbers have nothing to do with any argument. I am not going to compare his funeral with another funeral. Not into analysis. But do consider herd mentality. Nonetheless. Nothing more. Nothing less. Anyway, a person died, which is sad. His philosophy didn’t, which is also sad. ﺩﺷﻤﻦ ﻣﺮﮮ ﺗﮯ ﺧﻮﺷﯽ ﻧﮧ ﮐﺮﺋﯿﮯ ﺳﺠﻨﺎﮞ ﻭﯼ ﻣﺮ ﺟﺎﻧﺎ ﮈﯾﮕﺮ ﺗﮯ ﺩﻥ ہوﯾﺎ ﻣﺤﻤﺪ ﺍﻭﮌﮎ ﻧﻮﮞ ﮈﺏ ﺟﺎﻧﺎ On the other hand, those who made us this stupid and irrational; are enjoying new laws. Saudia is on its way modernizing. MBS met Netanyahu, according to the New York Times. UAE is amending its laws in accordance with Europe. Everything is moving 180 degrees there. They don’t need illiterate warriors to fight blindly in the name of religion anymore. Soon, we are going to be left alone. We will be left alone with swords in hand. What we will do then? Where will we direct our anger? Who will we kill? Bank managers. Students. Doctors. Random people. Ahmadis. Christians. Blasphemers. Some these. Some those. Who cares? Bulleh Shah doesn’t: عاشق ہویوں رب دا ہوئی ملامت لاکھ تینوں کافر، کافر آکھ دے، تو آہو آہو آکھ Believe whatever your like. Follow whatever convinces you. But let the idea of diversity and acceptance prevail. Be sad on the demise; but don’t forget the narrative he propagated throughout his shelf life. They may act as your guide but they are not taking you home. Because even their guidance is directed.

Hira

You talk to a girl – let’s call her Pari – for some time. You haven’t happened to see her, yet you talk to her daily on the phone. Then she disappears. She disappears because she was unable to own you.

After some months, you talk to another girl – Hira – and she is exactly the same person you talked to before. But not entirely the same. The identity is different. And this time, you happen to meet her.

You talked to two different people; perhaps the same. Yes. No. She was the one.

You talked to one, met another one; and both were the same.

You know, men want variety. They talk about it all the time. ‘Change’ and ‘biryani’; not ‘daal chawal’ every day. But then, men are always looking for the previous one. “The one who got away.” They are forever striving for nostalgia. Maybe they live in nostalgia too. Who knows their psyche?

Always trying to get a whiff of the breeze they inhaled a decade back at the beach.

Back to Pari. Oh! Hira. The same person. She knows you already. And as is likely, she disappears again. Because you could not be owned. You were not conquered. Her agenda was to own you, and your agenda was to escape.

Such a clichéd story: A random call. Random sharing. Random meetup. Random disappearance. End of story. No? No.

There is something to be said about being nostalgic in the present. Sensing and fearing a future without the beloved. You are going to lose this person right in front of you. Who you just met. For the first time. And for the last time. After the first touch. After the first kiss. After the first breath. That’s it. Nothing to follow. No seconds. No second touch. No second kiss. No second breath.

Are these lies? Like everything else. This life, this breathing, this space, this whole coding in a virtual platform? Oh! Pain is real. It can be felt. It nurtures and evolves on its own. We all have our share of pain in different shapes. And we are kind of addicted to it. Because that is the only thing we own. And sometimes that is the only thing we know. Pain. Very personal pain.

But even pain is nothing more than some angry brain cells.

See the other side of the human spectrum: special people. Above all of us. Above politics, above consumerism, above religion, above philosophy, above love, above lust, above everything. They are happy. Just happy. They don’t have eternal pain, like us who are actually handicapped and mere consumers.

Rooh / nafs / soul is dependent on a body. Complete human body. Religion simply dismisses differently abled people as they will not be judged in the Hereafter. Fine. But there are questions. Rooh depending on a body completely rejects the idea of soul. There is no soul perhaps. Just a system. Working and evolving.

One cell splitting into two. Two into four. Four into eight. Myopic microscopic evolution.

Or one cell is ordered to split into two. Two into four. Four into eight. The design.

Sigh! Don’t want to drag to the point where a story becomes blasphemous.

Eyes see a person. There is a chemical response in the brain. Curiosity. Love or lust, whatever, is a biologically intrigued chemical reaction. Mood, mood swings, temper, very intelligent anger, everything, is a chemical reaction. And then a whole human body, an object not to be objectified, is talking to you on the other end of the receiver. From chemical reaction in the brain to frequency signals on the receiver to decoding of wavelengths by the ears; love is born. Give yourself a break.

Reminds me of Merovingian’s causality scene of the Matrix. Everything is coded and hence can be manipulated, accordingly.

Back to her. Pari. Or Hira. Or whoever’s Zia she was. Two persons. Two cities. Two names. Yet, one.

How does it feel that you talked to one and met another one; who are exactly the same? That was the story that caused chaos in a dead sea. Some phone calls, and some social media snapshots – welcome to the modern world. What remain are some pictures to see. Sleazy pictures. No second touch but a possession forever.

The pictures remain, the person does not. The story remains, the voice does not. The stories have evolved. Now Ranjha isn’t running madly to save Heer. Romeo is already dead with nothing in hand. Now, the modern-day-Ranjha sneaks onto Instagram, takes screenshots, and keeps on reliving the past. Eating himself like the tail of a snake.

Why do men need to relive and die again and again, yet looking for variety at the same time? Are they still in an early evolutionary phase? Will they ever be stable? How they long and strive to see someone naked for months and then keep on reliving the moments where they were able to save some sleazy shots? Isn’t this digital-lust pathetic?

And the person you see in the picture is the same, yet not the same. The body is the same, yet the soul is different. What would have been a future of such a story? Only unfulfilled love stories are complete. Fulfillment follows disaster. And mutilated stories are not even worth telling. But here it is. As it was. How else to write such a weird story?

Maybe in another life. When they both are cats. Animals.

P.S. I know exactly what I was writing initially but kept on adding some words / fragments randomly in this piece. And look what I made? Noodles! May you make some sense out it. I couldn’t. Maybe in another piece.

Random Numbness (November 2020)

I was waiting for so long.
For a miracle to come.
Hush. Now. I see a light in the sky.
Oh it’s almost blinding me.
I can’t believe I’ve been touched by an angel.
With love.

These are some lines from Celine Dion’s song. No jazbaat intended.

Since yesterday – a new day – there have been some miracles. We have witnessed epitome of logical reasoning; which is jazba. Jazbaat can do shit.

But that’s not the instant case here. IG – not Instagram – is the apex post of a police officer in a province. Who was abducted. From his home. Forced to file a case. Blah blah. At 4-am.

Now imagine Balochistan. Or Fata. Or all the people who are not IGs. People who are no more than locusts; eating state’s crops while being treacherous, treasonous, and venomous. Shame!

If an IG can go missing, theories regarding missing people stand true.

If an IG can be abducted from his home, stories of abductions stand true.

But of course, not everyone is IG enough to get a response like that. Suspended. New postings. New locusts to kill.

This is treason. Someday, on your way to evolution, you will find this definition. I am sure.

Land does not matter. People matter. Land is for the people. People are not for the land. If a land has nothing to offer to its people – other than graves – than it’s worth is not more than that of a graveyard.

As Iqbal once said,
Jis khait se dehqaan ko mayassar nahi rozi,
Us khait kay her khosha-e-gandum ko jala do.

As he also said,
In taza Khudao main bara sab se watan hai;
Jo perhan iska hai, wo mazhab ka kafan hai.

A new day indeed. Quoting Iqbal without checking the exact words. I am bad with poems. Can’t remember couplets. But we all have our references to support us. Right?

But then there is history too. And yesterday was historical, which has negated all your fairy tales. Perks of being duffer. Their own narrative was invalidated . Quashed. Flushed.

Anyway, I am concerned. Not for you. Or you. But I am concerned about those who are going to be the leaders of times to come. Our kids. Our next generation.

People were mad when Trump was losing. They thought Trump was good for them as there were no new wars. Pretty dumb. I say that because these same stunted-analysts never talk about those who started wars at home.
Who were the presidents in 1965, 1971, the 1980s, and during War on Terror? Exactly, hypocrite!

Back to Trump. Well, he was the loudest voice of populism in the world, which was bad for everyone. You want liberals in Europe and America to let you make mosques and let you practice your faith. For that – liberalism – Trump was bad. He was bad for blacks, for immigrants, for health services, for minorities, for women, for the whole world.

He was as bad as you are good at your hypocrisy on liberalism.

So, don’t be sad that a populist has lost. You were a loser even when he was the winner. A patriotic loser though.

Anyway, things are expanding.
With all the disagreements and agreements, PDM has done a pretty nice job. With all their vested interests, they are your only hope at the moment. You can throw them out later on with mere votes. But those – against whom PDM is standing – cannot be thrown out with votes.

Let me be precise, there is this thin line. All you need to do is to step on the right side. Disagree where you may.
Disagree on Urdu and lingua franca.
Disagree on what happened at Quaid’s tomb.
Disagree where you have your reasons.
But stand corrected. That’s all. Let the sun of democracy rise here.

No further judgements. You are dismissed.

Zood-e-Pashemaan

Haye! Us zood-e-pashemaan ka pashemaan hona!

Such a sad day for all those who were thinking that IG story was a bluff. Or a fake story. Or a comedy.

Well, it was comedy of errors. The puppet laughed and had no clue what to call it.

All the warriors were busy burying the story as a hoax. Surprise!

A day will come and the sun will rise when you will realize that things are deeper than you think. Just kidding. Such a day won’t come. You will never realize. It’s part of your comedic-neuro-system.

So, go to sleep. They will take care of you and your lands and your IGs.

Keep busy denying. And dying.

Tom & Jerry

Nawaz Sharif took 2 names. In return, Imran Khan took 3.

Wasn’t that the whole point? Thanks!

It’s nothing more than Tom & Jerry fighting to rule the same house. Remember Tom & Jerry? We never saw the lady who actually owned the house. We only saw her boots. What coincidence.

Looney Tunes… continues.

Random Numbness II (October 2020)

What would have been a whistleblowing scandal in the West, is a usual news in Pakistan. There never has been a Watergate kinda scandal here.

Bashir Memon’s (former DG FIA) episode could have been a swift blow to the government in a conscience country. At least it would have caused serious investigation. But here, it is just another conspiracy against the handsome.

Or – in the past – Hamood Ur Rehman Commission Report should have stirred the whole establishment within a fortnight. But of course, not here. The East was a piece of traitors. Done and dusted.

By the way, our commission reports have evolved. Resembling our CCPO Umar Sheikh, reports also blame the victims and their families and the public-at-large. Like APS Commission report.

Public outrage needs a direction. A civil or civilized direction. In case of unknown rulers, public and its outrage is clueless. How can you agitate against an institution with guns and without roses? How can you even think of morality and integrity in a mannequin as PM? It’s just a dummy with lingerie on for display. For your eyes only.

Yet “I am democracy”.

Demoncrazy.

You know if your entire focus is on exhaling your rage, it will lead to nothing. For example, calling for ‘hang the rapist’ and seeing the rapist hanged satisfies you. Until there is another rape story to haunt. I mean a big rape story. Otherwise, it’s a routine morbidity in the state. From minor kids (boys and girls) to girls (without discrimination) to corpses (women only).

I am indifferent to the idea of rapists being hanged, just to be clear.

The problem is the problem. When are we going to look deep into the psyche and the upbringing of the rapist, and the root-cause of the problem? Their childhood? Their background? Their idea of crime? Their social circle? Their environment?

There is a need to make a committee of psychologists and sociologists to have a deep look. Even hanging a rapist daily won’t solve the problem. We have accepted the problem – good –  now we need to find the cause.

A lot can be found while benchmarking international practices where this issue has been studied and controlled.

Anyway. Back to the future.

Hilary Clinton once said, “you can’t keep snakes in your backyard and expect them only to bite your neighbors. Eventually those snakes are going to turn on whoever has them in the backyard,” That was for us, Pakistan.

‘Snakes’ are the ‘proxy outfits’. Our very own beloved. For whom we are begging FATF.

‘You’ is ‘deep state’.

And deep state is deep shit.

In another widely circulated video, a host asked Hillary Cilnton about deep state. Clinton defined it as a term coined by political scientists to describe certain countries like Pakistan where… well… what to say. 2 years and half a million rupees. Enough said.

As she cannot be labeled as a ‘traitor’ or an ‘agent’ – inconveniently as she ain’t Miss Fatima Jinnah – she is causing anger. Because she just didn’t mention Pakistan but she kept on explaining the deep state without a pause and without a mistake.

Ouch! Between the legs.

You can be angry at her too. Hang Hilary. Be done with it. But the problem won’t be solved like that because she is not the problem.

And look at the brighter side. Out of all the 195 countries, she mentioned us. Pakistan. The word ‘Pakistan’ echoed in the entire west. Goosebumps?

If all the missing persons are terrorists / agents – like Idris Khattak – and Ehsan Ullah Ehsan is not missing like missing persons; then don’t you think everything is tilted upside down in this land of pure? That was just an epiphany while writing a note of treason.

Shut-up!

Get out of your comfort zone and stop ridiculing your intellect by reacting at the ‘effects’. Focus on the ‘cause’. Figuring out the cause will help to solve hundreds of issues around you. Including pizza services.

Look for the chef who is cooking the rotten eggs. These waiters, are mere waiters, working for their tips.

By the way, what a win for Noorani. Whatever the outcome, or your judgement, he will be remembered as victorious with mere words of objective truth. Just like hips, numbers don’t lie.

One article, couple of tweets, no apologies and check-mate.

And PDM.

Rally plans are all set for Gujranwala. New CPO has been appointed. Those who danced all night for freedom of agitation in 2014, are using state machinery against the opposition. Well, don’t be afraid. This is not even an opposition.

For two years, this opposition tried to appease the deep state. After failing, it decided to fight. The stance – which is harder at the moment than anyone could predict – is going to be a thing to watch. The funny part is, PM Imran Khan was not even considered by the PDM. The guns are rightly pointed at the guns.

With all the opportunists (waiters) united under the PDM, this is another episode in the history of the country with some hope. Some hope. Although, there are more chances that it will be shattered. But for once, with some politicians, journalists, activists, writers, and whistleblowers; this is the first time ever that the state within the state has been taken this harshly for their eternal crimes.