Talking Dead Bodies

A military plane is flying. Late at night. Carrying 2 lieutenant colonels with 3 juniors. It crashes. Over a populated city. Over homes. Killing 13. Injuring many. Turning homes into ashes.

5 martyred.
13 dead.
12 wounded.

Media covers it. Everyone tells the names and ranks of the soldiers. No one mentions the names and jobs of the civilians. Bloody civilians!

Chief attends the funeral. Media covers it with pride. As if it’s a war. It is a war. For nationalism. Against nationalists.

‘Dushman ka mu torr dain gay!’
‘But there was no dushman up in the air.’
‘Traitor!’
‘Taak main betha tha…’

“Hey! You! Saki Nama! Bloody asshole, you didn’t speak last time, right?”

I don’t speak for those who are being spoken about by everyone sir.
I speak for mutilated dead bodies.
I speak for unidentified graves.
I speak for the farmers of Okara.
I speak for the poor against giant land mafias.
I speak for missing people.
I speak for minorities.
I speak for 444 encounters of Rao.

“You telling me you don’t give a fuck? You telling me that??”

I give selective fucks. Like you. I speak when I want to. And no, I don’t speak on every single dead body. It stinks.

“Bloody civilian!”

Bastard!

“Aye!”

5 martyred.
13 dead.
12 wounded.
220 million duffers!

Top Gun: 1986 to 2019

I wasn’t even born when “Top Gun” was released in 1986. Tom Cruise became a global star and Air Force Planes became a sensation for both men and women. The inverted plane maneuver is still one hell of a scene to watch.

It’s 2019. Trailer of “Top Gun: Maverick” has been released. Tom Cruise is the lead cast again. It looks promising though one shouldn’t bet against classics like that. But that isn’t the point.

In those 30+ years, while Cruise remained the lead cast / hero on screen, we went through the whole cycle of life. From Azaan in ears to passing through never-ending midlife crises.

Some of us got fat. Some went bald. White hair. Decaying skin. Decomposing. Some are unhappily married while others went through divorce happily.

Anyway, we hope, with our flop lives, that this movie will be a hit. We, the crowd, don’t like our stars to fail though our stars – our other stars – rarely align themselves.

“I’m going to need a beer to put these flames out.”

P.S. This one is for you. Not me. Because I ain’t bulky or bald.

Random Numbness

Let’s see it this way. Why there is no justice in Pakistan? Or, why over 10 children are being sexually abused daily in Pakistan?

Because everything revolves around sex and greed here. From top to bottom. From topless. To bottomless.

A Judge recently got exposed after his video went viral. He was busy making money. But he says he was threatened by “manipulated, immoral video”. You know what that is? Our expertise.

NAB is busy in losing cases abroad and Intelligence is busy collecting “who is sleeping with who” videos / pictures. You know. For future manipulations. Like the Judge said. Easy stuff to get things done.

“I am a Prostitute of Grade-18. And you?”
“A pimp! With over a decade of experience.”
“Good to know.”
“Pleasure is all mine.”

When all the Forces, Agencies and Intelligence got the assignment to catch the rapist in Kasur last year, they all got exposed. Unskilled. Apart from forensics, everyone was clueless. Even today, many people in Kasur believe that the hanged person was just a scapegoat. Who knows!

But his profile matched a rape suspect. Mullah and Madrassah stuff. Right? Let’s not go to that side.

Again but… nobody asked this: How would pimps catch a rapist? Is there a precedent?

Precedents.

Every political party going against the others. Elites playing the cards. Dramas. Suspense. Courts. Trials. Imprisonment. Bail. Someone in. Someone out. Same episodes. Again and again. Haven’t you seen all this in 1960s, 70s, 80s, 90s, and so on? It is same.
Defaming the opponents.
Opponents joining opponents.
Formation of new opponents.
Opponents in power.
Touche!

Those who had ministries during military regime have the ministries in the ‘democracy’ now. Isn’t it fucked-up?

The fight for justice is always between rich and poor. Zalim and mazloom.
It isn’t against one monarch to another. It isn’t between Bani Gala and Jati Umra.
It isn’t between pimps.

Perverted nationalism. Perverted nation.
Drug addicts, sex-offenders, and greedy families are ruling us.

Over 1.8 million pending cases in courts. In front of ready-to-be-sold pimps. Being represented by a mafia of lawyers (read liars) who can beat the hell of a judge on any given day. Based on reports submitted by police which can abuse you as soon as you walk into a station.

Have you been in a court in Pakistan? Brothels are better, trust me.

You can get any document attested for Rs.5-10 per page. Magistrate for bail is easily available for crimes like murder or rape or both. Fake witnesses roam around the court-rooms to be hired by anyone. They will give statement, under oath, regarding anything. If you want to prolong your case, you can prolong it for years without a hearing. If you want instant justice, you can bribe the judge directly. Everything is managed by Readers who sit on left and right side of the judge.

Behave!
It’s Honorable judge.
You have to stand when they enter the court room.
You sit when they sit.
And you spit when they do justice.

In the end, we expect justice for our kids from these pimps in pimp-rooms.

Welcome to the Child Abuse Capital of the World!
Please use precautions.
We just found AIDS is rampant in our kids.
Thank you!

Nostalgic Descriptivism

“Denoting” is a philosophy by Bertrand Russell. Descriptivism.

Let’s improvise: “Nostalgic Descriptivism”.

Monsoon Rains. Dampness. The whisper of wet leaves. The grass adorned with tiny water droplets.

Was it the monsoon or the dampness? Was it the person or the feeling? Was it the place or the weather?

Was it specific? Or random?

Random it was!

Isn’t descriptivism random too?

Take an example: Who is the poet who died in Kasur, loved to be called Arain over Shah, and was called “infidel” by the Mullahs of his time? This whole description is for Bulleh Shah precisely.

But what if you don’t know Bulleh Shah? This whole descriptivism is random then. Baseless. Meaningless. Is that what defines Bulleh Shah? What if he had been born in a different city? Like Narowal, to be called Faiz?

What is nostalgic descriptivism? Bertrand Russell didn’t talk about it.

Is it the person? Or the weather? Or the dampness? Or the rain?

For instance: Does it matter if she was from Lahore or Islamabad?

Does it matter if her name was not this but that?

Does it matter if she lied happily or didn’t lie unhappily?

No it doesn’t. None of the facts matter.

What matters is the time. Descriptive time. The time which is gone but rewinds. Again and again. Whenever the description matches, it hits your memory. It invites nostalgia. It gives you the same feeling and dampness. Without the presence of anyone. No presence is needed.

And I don’t know how to describe further.

By the way, next time you read descriptivism, remember I described “nostalgic descriptivism” for the first time.

For you!

Until next time…