Qazi Faez Isa – A Shame to Remeber

Finally, he’s gone. Delayed riddance. Not just from his post of Chief Justice but also from the country.

He’s the second person to trash the hopes of people across the country. He made an image of himself larger than life. Stood against authorities. Stood against the government. Delivered bold speeches in conferences.

Qazi Faez Isa has not only broken the hopes but also the constitution, procedures of courts, judicial independence, freedom of speech, rights of missing people, free and fair elections, and what not.

He didn’t care about hundreds in jail since the drama of 9th May.

He didn’t raise his eyebrows against Military Courts he always hated when he wasn’t a CJ.

He has empowered ECP that Military doesn’t even need to rig elections anymore. All they need is a ‘seasoned bureaucrat’ like Sikandar Sultan Raja – a man without conscientiousness – to come and deny a party. With that shall go the 26% reserved seats. And with that, that party may not be able to form a government.

Simple recipe: made by military, served by Faez Isa through the hierarchy of bastards of bureaucrats.

But how could you judge such a man? Such a fine hypocrite. He stood against military courts and wrote a beautiful dissenting note. Words. With example of Jinnah. 8 years later, as a CJ, he stood for military courts. How could you judge a judge who would eat his own vomit live on TV?

If it would have been a movie – like The Godfather – where Michael Corleone took revenge from all, served it cold, as a dish; then we could call Qazi Faez Isa our modern-day Corleone who took revenge from all who were against him and ruled shamelessly to empower the same powers he once was against.

PTI and military together wanted to remove him from the scene. Today, PTI is removed. Military itself relied on Faez to get a Constitutionally-Amended-Perpetual-Martial-Law.

In his stunts, Faez Isa didn’t even shy to cut the hands of Mansoor Ali Shah – the hands who saved his tenure as the Chief Justice of Pakistan.

Because he was for revenge. And he took his revenge even from those who stood with him. From journalist. From activists. From all the common people who saw him with hope. He hurt everyone without discrimination except the military. In fact, he has done his part to hurt the future generations of the country too.

It’s debatable if he was the worst Chief Justice of Pakistan but it’s not debatable that he was among the worst ones.

It has always been like that. You cannot put your home in a single person in political and social levels. As soon as you do, he/she will trash them in no time.

Anyway, it’s better to fall to the worst level than to prolong the worse. Now you know the enemies (of course) who are not outside the border but within. But know one more thing. No politician or political party can change the course of Pakistan. The framework in which they are asked to govern is compromised. The constitution is nothing more than trash. The bureaucracy needs to be abolished – its already invalid – to change the system. And military needs to be cut down to barracks and barracks only. Until then, nothing and no one can change anything for good. Be it a long-awaited messiah to come down from heaven. Nope.

The Art of Writing

Since we were talking about art and artists, let me tell you the finest and greatest mind of our times in South Asia.

We have seen actors and actresses. They come and go but some keep on hanging up as long as they can, pretending to look young and sexy while forgetting how sexy is being in 40s and 50s and 60s is.

Now we have a huge lot of TikTokers too with thousands and millions of followers. It’s fine. They all have the right to make content and share publicly as well as they please. Just like everyone has a right to be a YouTuber. After all, they are all artists even if you hate or disagree with some of them.

Then we have singers. Big ones. Great ones.

But there is one art that is above all other forms. That is the art of writing. The one since the sapiens started to hold a pen.

Manuscripts. Holy scriptures. Holy books. Compilations. All writings. All miracles of words. This art of writing is the one above all – at least for me.

This art of writing presents the codes. Like Hammurabi’s code of law. Like constitutions. Like practice and procedures in different organizations. A little word here and there and the whole context puts generations into disarray.

We have classic writers. Big names. Not going to name a single because it may undermine others.

Similarly, we have modern writers. Again, not going to name anyone specifically.

Then we have beautiful and amazing writers in the Sub-Continent too. We usually undermine them because of our complexes. But even with those complexes, there are some writers who astonish us with their words, writings, and messages.

So. Going to name the one I think is the best writer, the best mind, the best explorative brain, and a fine human being who always stands on the right side of every single trial she sees. She doesn’t mince words. She doesn’t care about the consequences. She keeps on writing. She keeps on speaking. She keeps her head high and doesn’t cover it with a mask.

And that is Arundhati Roy.

The one writer who is perhaps the best artist of the Sub-Continent. At least in our times.

Because we have seen big writers siding with the governments for vested interests. Or we have seen the writers coming out of the governments after enjoying benefits and privileges to make a legacy. But she didn’t sit with them. She never sided with the government. Her only side has always been people. People here, people there, and people everywhere.

In the cruel world we live in, if you have listened to the best singers and have seen the best players in sports and have watched the best actors / actresses but haven’t read Arundhati Roy – the best writer of our land… then you have missed almost missed the best art already.

One more thing.
For ladies of our land.

With Arundhati Roy from India and Asma Jahangir from Pakistan, you don’t really need any other argument to make comparative analysis with the other gender. Your gender is clearly ahead of us men. You have won already. That’s why we put all our energies in the art of sports where we can use our masculinity for commercial reasons.

Why?

Court declared him innocent after 19 years. But he was already dead 2 years ago; after spending 17 years in jail for nothing. His father died during court proceedings. His two uncles died. He died too. Good riddance, he thought.

Up above the heavens, God was happy that he has come back to Him. All his questions were ready to be answered. A big ceremony was being organized with a ‘kun’ here and a ‘kun’ there.

He was told in his report that he wouldn’t be in heaven if he would have been free all his life. He was told that God sent him to jail for a reason. Destiny, that you cannot question. He was told that he has all this heaven now. To enjoy forever.

He listened to the stories quietly. Without expression. Without emotions. Without tears. Without happiness.

After all the beautiful reasonings of destiny, he was asked if he had anything to say.

“O dear Lord of all the Worlds, I now know the reasons. But 17 years in prison for no crime cannot be justified. Be it destiny, but this heaven be justified.”

“The stink, the humidity, the pain, the torture, no air, hard floor, and food of prison… cannot be justified for that long.”

“Can your angels spend 17 years like that my beloved Lord? Or your Prophets? Your favorite one? Or You Yourself, You forbid, my Dear Lord?”

“It’s really tough to be a human. It’s a torture destined without agreement.”

“Dear Lord of All Worlds, You know what would have been the best for me? No life. No existence at all. Or an early death in prison; maybe in the first year. But 17? No, by dear Lord.”

“Or a little consent somewhere before the formation in the womb. Where I could present a case, and You could present a demo of life; and we both could agree to disagree – and I could be punished with no life at all.”

Imran Khan & Qazi Faez Isa

Strange are the ways of the world.

Who could have thought this Chief Justice would hit rock bottom? Almost everything he said in his good old days, were overturned by himself in his chief days. Whatever he said at the lower echelon, turned 180-degree at the top echelon.

But then, strange are the ways of the world.

The Politician this Chief is against played the same game. Did everything in 180-degree as soon as he reached top echelon. Whatever he said is available on YouTube in reverse. Every single thing.

The Chief at the moment is trying to take all the supreme judicial powers in his hand. He is also looking to the proposed Federal Court as him being the Chief Justice of the Constitution. Again.

Ironically, the Politician in jail once wanted that too.

Remember what Imran Khan was hoping for in the end. Federal finances. Technocracy. Presidential System. In the last manifesto of PTI, direct elections for the Prime Minister’s Office were proposed – bypassing Parliament.

In the end, the Chief Justice wants that too.

Like Bajwa wanted another term after another term.

Like Asim would ask for another term.

Like Boys always ask for blood and everything in the country that has a price.

They are all Pharaohs of our time. We are just unlucky to have them together in a single time period.

Maybe you have forgotten but thousands have not. When houses of poor people of Gujjar and Orangi Nullahs were being demolished in Karachi by the orders of the Chief Justice Gulzar Ahmed – can be you good chief on your bias; a giant 300+ kanal house in Bani Gala was being regularized at Rs.6.66 per square yar. Imagine their idea of themselves being Divinely Chosen.

I’m not exaggerating. They actually think they are the Divinely Chosen Ones by the God. They think they are to rule. They get direct messages from the heaven. They take decisions on whims and rollback decades of national progress in mere seconds.

Khan could have accepted the VoNC. Could have kept the government in Punjab and KP. Could have managed a strong opposition. Could have chosen to fight the constitutional way. Like Jinnah or Lincoln or any other great leader of past. Could have changed the course altogether. But he was always an idiot who believed in his Divine rights.

Forget the cause of all the mess in Pakistan (yeah, military) for a second; and you will realize that Khan teased the wrong guy. Faez took his time. Waited with big great constitutional letters. And after getting the Chief Post, served the cold dish of revenge.

If you have seen the trilogy of ‘The Godfather’, you may understand that Michael won not just because of patience, but because he was a lawyer too. He knew how to serve. In time. Though, in the end, time was not merciful to him at all.

Faez has forgotten that he is the Chief Justice of Pakistan. The history shall not forget this until he is dragged to new trials in each book.

Palestine: Another 100-year

100 years gone by, but the reasoning didn’t change.

100 years ago: We are weak. We lack in education. We don’t invest in research and development. No innovation. No technological advancement. Poor health. Poor personal growth.

100 years later: We are weak. We lack in education. We don’t invest in research and development. No innovation. No technological advancement. Poor health. Poor personal growth.

Another 100 years later: Draw the analogy yourself.

Nothing but hypocrisy.

We – the Pakistanis – participated in Yemen’s blood personally. We don’t know anything about Uighur because of selective amnesia. We had personal dollar-in-hand interest in Afghanistan in making it what it is today. The Kashmir we got is the Kashmir unhappy.

Then we have our own background of unmarked graves. Hazara genocide happened for over a decade in our own land with hundreds of coffins telecasted live on our TV screen in routine news bulletins. Hundreds and thousands of people were displaced (formally: Internally Displaced People), and a whole province is an unsafe region for poor while the powerful elite makes billions out of its minerals.

Hypocrites.

With crocodile tears.

And nothing to offer but amusement over dramatics.

Never said don’t fight back. Fight back. Resist. Stand. But don’t be an idiot by getting your own ones assassinated and annihilated. If the enemy comes and destroys you without you even knowing it, and you just throw stones at them to make a display – then you are fooling yourself and making a million other fools happy.

This isn’t how a war is fought. This is how a play is acted in a theatre.

What’s the result? Benefitting Netanyahu. Benefitting the mass murderers of Israel.

First you think. You prepare. You make yourself better. You grow and adopt strategies. And when you believe you are at par at least in certain aspects, you go to war. Else, you go for a suicide.

If Israel was supported by the UK and the USA, the whole Arab World also came together multiple times to win over. Yet, failed. What you think should be done, had been done, thrice – for nothing but more failures. Because wars are not won over emotions.

In the history of mankind, empires came and went down with some other empire to takeover. How did Muslims come to Mesopotamia? Spain? Persia? India? Africa? Alexandria? Constantinople?

And Jerusalem?

Who had this land of Jerusalem before Muslims? Who had this land before Christians? And who had this land before Jews? Humans.

We know the history from King David perhaps. Or Daud for you.

Then King Solomon. Or Suleman for you.

Babylonians came destroyed.

Then Persians came allowed Jews to come.

Second Temple by Herod. Reminds me of Oscar Wilde’s Salome and John the Baptist. Or Yahya for you.

Then came Alexander. Then Romans.

Then Constantine – the guy who founded Constantinople in 330 AD – came and made Jerusalem a Holy Christian land.

Then came the Muslims. Arabs.

Then came Crusaders to too back Jerusalem.

Followed by more Crusades in Ayyubid Period. Saladin recaptured the land.

Long story short, came the Ottomans to make the longest stand. Till the 1st World War.

Then came the victorious Britain who defeated the Ottomans, and captured Jerusalem and established their mandate.

So, who had it? Who owned this land? Which religion? Who who? Humans. Humans suffered there. Since forever. Behind the flags of three different religions, with the same message: PEACE.

The land of Jerusalem is sacred for all, and the land of Jerusalem is cursed for all too.

I am with you for peace. But I am not with you for dramatics for vested interests which are not aimed to save human lives but to make more idiotic reasons to get more killed. If the resistance is by force, then it better be true force at par.

Otherwise, you are just getting your own people killed. Over and over again.

Don’t sit back. Don’t watch. Learn. Adopt. Grow. If not Sun Tzu then maybe Machiavelli can help you how to grow yourself politically, socially, and regionally.

Get them by the balls but be able to do that first.

If you condemn one incident and are on numb on the ones happening in your backyard, and in your neighborhood; then try to discharge your hypocrisy first.

And if the arguments were same 100-year back as they are today, then they shall remain the same 100 years later. In all this mess, you may write a chapter of history with two beautiful videos of how 180 missiles went from Iran to Israel to make a billion Muslims happy after a hundred-thousand massacred and a hundred-thousand to be massacred.

I’m out of that history.

Walli – Introducing John Doe

He’s John Doe.

Those who love John, love John.

Those who hate him, hate him.

Nothing can change this, except a rare epiphany that strikes in some minds that’s not even an epiphany but a junk spark.

Those who loved John, loved Jane too. His wife.

But when Jane took divorce, the lovers turned into haters.

Interestingly, the haters started to love Jane afterwards.

Are you getting it? It’s all about the topic of your interest. Or disinterest with interest. Right now, the topic is John.

Those, who love John, see their algorithm altered according to their love for John. They see more loving videos. More loving content. Everywhere. With music. With a little eroticism and goosebumps.

Similarly, the haters see their algorithm altered otherwise. They see more hating videos and more hating content all over their social media. With music. Less eroticism and no goosebumps at all.

Hence, love is being intensified as much as hate is being intensified. The two poles are poling apart. Further and further. The differences are becoming wider. Disagreements will turn into hate. And hate will turn into abuse. Then violence. Then another religion. Another sect. another nation. Another demand for another separate land in the name of freedom that will gag the residents sooner than they think.

The crux is: no one is ready to think otherwise. No one is ready to look beyond the newsfeed. No one is ready to view the alternate version. Everyone is becoming more intensified version of him/herself.

John can be anyone. Or anything. John can be a politician. A celebrity. A sports star. A speaker. A model. A religious podcaster. John can be your religion. Your patriotism. Your nationality. Your pain. Your misery. Your anything of any interest available in public domain.

Who is your God? Have you ever looked for other Gods? Shook hands with them? Had a tête-à-tête. Or a rendezvous? Random meetup in a mosque or a church? A temple or a tomb?

What is your religion? Ever dared to read some other religions? The similarities? What religion introduced all the major concepts of Abrahamic religions? Any coincidence? Any question? Any if and but you get in your brain that shivers your backbone?

What has your politician done? How is s/he so different? How is s/he so great? How did you become a blind follower of love or hate? Weren’t the greatest ones in the past known for the biggest blunders too? Those greatest ones died too early and couldn’t see what the aftereffects did to the generations to come.

Your piece of land, your country; any different than the rest? What’s so special about it, apart from you being born here? A random X and Y mess.

Your cyst. Your cancer. Your disability. Your inconsistent heartbeats. Are those specially yours too? Patriotically loved and owned?  

Your race. Your color. Your identity. You know you are the superior and chosen one. Yet, you also know deep down that you are the same decaying organic matter, and you were never superior. In fact, you were the child of a less god. You finally know.

Empathy.

Look on the other side. Travel the bridge. Or make one. See for yourself. See the one you hate. Talk to the other god. Sit in the strange temple. Listen to the liturgical music of Church. Listen to the ones you hate. Read the ones who are banned.

Billions came and billions went without an impact on this minor second of history of our interstellar. What matters is: NOTHING.

Walli have prayed a million times. To be rejected a million times. Of course, for his own good.

I object.

He travelled to that anciently modern city of underground railways and saw her and looked for her. And found her. She turned. She looked back. Just when he thought a million-and-one prayers have been heard after a million rejections, she talked back.

She turned and disowned. She told him that he doesn’t exist. He doesn’t matter.

Now tell me honestly, does that matter?

Absolutely NOT.

I object.

And he wished for one last wish so he may burn this whole interstellar into ashes for the history of NONE.

Who Exposed Them?

“Who exposed them?” asks another one. Then another one. Then another one.

And they all want to hear one name in answer. So that they can awe for long and sleep for another decade.

Only those who never read history and had a short-term memory were inspired by this neo-exposition done indirectly for vested interests. They conveniently ignore that man in question still wants the lap to be offered, only lap is offended and old friends in uniform are retired. And new generals have new friends to serve them.

Anyway, let’s settle this one last time.

Hundreds and thousands of books exposed them.

Jaffrelot, Walsh, Talbot, and so many others exposed them.

Jinnah himself exposed them in his last days.

Jalib and Faiz exposed them with poetry and couplets.

Ayesha Siddiqua exposed them with numbers, data, and graphs.

Tariq Ali exposed them with historical events.

Asma Jahangir exposed them for years and was abused by the same lot.

Muhammad Hanif exposed them with fiction based on true events.

Cyril had exposed them with sarcasm every other week.

People like Absar, Toor, and Ayaz exposed them in their voices without fear.

Maulvi Tamizuddin exposed them long ago in the court of law.

The Students’ Unions that ended in fall of Ayub exposed them in East and West.

Fall of Dhaka exposed them.

Bhutto, Benazir, Nawaz, Fazlur Rehman, and others exposed them from time to time for vested interests.

Bacha Khan exposed them.

Manzoor Pashteen exposed them.

Hundreds of women from Balochistan exposed them.

Yet, you just want to hear one name.

And I feel very sorry for that. For you.

Hence, You!

One wrong person can mess your whole life. True.

But to reach the right person, you must pass through a couple of wrong persons. Else you will never realize happiness without sorrows.

Just like the prerequisite of divorce is: marriage. I know. Deviation. It’s an art and it’s not always out of the context.

Anyway. Back to that person.

So, you may find the right person but s/he may not be in a position to claim the same.

Your right. Yet not vice versa. Zero sum.

Then you see your wrong one matching perfectly with someone else. Syncing. Algorithm.

Just like your worst enemy is someone’s best friend. And your best friend is someone’s foe.

Tell her to go! Deviation! Leave!

Perhaps, it’s after the existential crisis itself that tells you the crux of the whole journey. And the crux is: it was you.

You were the wrong person all along. The entire dot in your universe was you.

You.

Hence, you.

They Drive, They Kill, They Fly

Gandhi said, “poverty is the worst form of violence.”

This could have been one of the finest sayings of all times, but we don’t ponder over it because poverty doesn’t concern us. Or at least that poverty which we see in heartbreaking reels and pictures and in faraway lands to shed some crocodile tears. Some tears. A sigh. And swipe to the next content of vulgarity.

That was violence you just didn’t recognize. And violence breeds violence.

With the global debacle of human race, we are reaching new lows here in Pakistan. The new trend is rich killing poor or middle-class commuters here and there. Mostly in elite areas of cities like Karachi, Lahore, and Islamabad; but nonetheless, everywhere.

The rich usually have vehicles that are more expensive than the house value of the poor or the middleclass they just rammed under their vehicle – if they are not living on rent. A 5-marla house in Lahore would be less than Rs.2 crore. Cost of Land Cruiser would be… leave it. 5-marla house would sound too cheap.

Imagine this difference. Imagine this difference ramming over you. Crushing your bones and soul under the tyres which are more expensive than your bike. Or whatever.

Post-incident SOPs are exactly the same. Play with the usual games of mental instability, drugs, etc. Take police into confidence and manage to file an FIR full-of-errors, missing key penal codes. Get a loudmouth lawyer with zero conscientiousness – easiest part. Keep an eye on media but ignore it all the way. Get a bail. And get the killer fly out of the country.

Simple. With a middle finger to people.

Now wait for another similar incident being played on the face of the poor of this country in 3, 2, 1…

It may have been one dead or two, but a whole family dies with one death in the family. The leftover souls and bodies of that home would grieve for months and years to come. They would always be living in if and what-if and why.

Now the final part. The dead is dead. Or the dead are dead. It’s same as singular and plural just like its ‘poor’ both ways and not ‘poors’ because you really don’t matter. Until you resist strongly and consistently so much so to make them notice you. Only after that laws of the jungle shall change.

If not even in that case, then you always have the option to burn the citadel down.

Or you can ignore all this and keep on lifting the dead bodies one after another. Doesn’t matter.

Some Condolences

Somehow, justice has prevailed. Not because it is what I wanted it to be, but because it should have been this. Credit goes to judges like Mansoor Ali Shah and Athar Minallah, who led from the front.

Qazi Faez remained shameful, badly compromised, and too tainted to be spoken of.

Apart from some judges and courts – like Babar Sattar and the Islamabad High Court – the country is completely gagged. The current Martial Law has transformed itself into one of the ugliest periods in Pakistan’s history. While the puppets in parliament can be blamed for this and that, it is Rawalpindi that runs the show.

You may have enjoyed 1984 but I’m sure you cannot enjoy 2024.

We are living in an inferno. We are in mayhem at both micro and macro levels.

A pregnant woman named Sania Zehra was tortured and beaten to death by her husband. After killing her, he hanged her to make it look like a suicide case. This is a micro example: events happening at the domestic level, at home. Just like how seven children are abused daily in this country. In domestic settings. In holy carpets.

At the macro level, blood is spilled publicly, so all may know that you can be killed if you speak out. You may not speak because you might be killed. You may die in an accident so the state may survive over blood and bodies. Recent example: Gilaman Wazir.

Honestly, I didn’t know him. Never heard of him when he was alive. Received messages and comments to write about him and how I should be ashamed for missing this.

Well, not ashamed.

The state has been killing people in Balochistan and KP and in the entire western belt of Pakistan since the beginning. Jinnah himself let down the government of KP, initiating a debacle of the political decorum in the province that was actually ahead of the rest at that time. But no. A Governor General wanted to govern like a general. And since then, the blood of the western belt has been cheaper than the rest.

Another student is killed.

Another professor is killed.

Another journalist is killed.

Another voice is killed.

Another poet is killed too. So?

Nothing is going to change except you getting the lesson very clearly with your ears and arse open that you cannot ask for your rights and you cannot shout.

Sit down in your sit-ins and moan for days and nights how badly you have been fucked by the state.

You are a replica of the state. The state robs you; you rob those you can. It’s mostly this hierarchy – just like that hierarchy of bastards of bureaucrats.

I’m so sorry to hear the news. Condolences. Condemned. Again condemned.

And adjourned.

Please bring the next dead body so I may offer more. No!

I’m not a journalist. I don’t follow news to inform you people. Lately, I’m not even reading Dawn regularly and Twitter is down. Stop expecting “news” here. Follow news pages, read newspapers, and watch news channels. This is this: where words fall the way, they want to fall, against gravity.