Month: March 2020

China stopped Muslim women from wearing the veil. Now the whole country is in masks. Muslims win. The virus has globalized Hindu way of greeting – i.e. no handshakes. Hindus win. India isolated Kashmir. The whole world is isolated. Kashmiris win. Mecca is deserted. So is Vatican City. So are major temples and monasteries. Religious congregations are cancelled or postponed. Atheists / agnostics win. Science is as clueless about the virus – at least up till now – as illiterate people. Illiterates win. Developed countries should provide easy loans to developing countries. And if can’t waive off, they should minimize the loan restrictions. PTI wins. Cow urine parties in India. Thanks, we lose. And the list goes on and on. Everybody’s a winner. Everybody’s a loser. So many minds. So many logics. Anyway, the virus is here. It is as ugly as: Hunger has always been in Africa. Refugees drowning in sea water. Burma’s ethnic cleansing. Racism in America. Silencing of Kashmir. State violence in Pakistan. Hindutva in India. Kurds of Turkey. Kids in Yemen. Or ‘Chinese virus’ when it was China’s only. Nothing rings a bell until it’s our door. Our Door. Capitalists’ door. Consumers’ door. I don’t know anything technical about this virus. But I know it has been here in one form or another, as written above. Nights of Paris are no longer romantic. Northern lights in Scandinavia are no longer appealing. Beaches of Italy are no longer entertaining. Remember New York’s Time Square in Vanilla Sky? Such panic never saw daylight when millions of people were killed in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Burma, Kashmir, Libya, Palestine, and Yemen. Nothing rang a bell when a picture of a dead boy in red t-shirt went viral. Nothing happened when war-implied-forced-refugees were left shelter-less in severe winters. So, apparently, this virus is kinda blessing in disguise. It is like fasting in ramzan. Feeling thirst and hunger and realizing how it feels. How it feels to be isolated. How it feels to be clueless. How it feels to be at the mercy of the state. How it feels to be seen as a danger. How it feels to be clean. How must have Yeminis felt for years when they were bombarded and killed without any help or concern? How must have Palestinians – who apparently have a monopoly in suffering – felt in decades of catastrophe? How must have Afghans felt in being here and there of the dollar-funded-violence? So, have patience. Embrace the threat. Inhale the risk. And feel how it feels to be here. At the uncertainty. Even though it is nothing compared to falling drones from the sky and going directionless when homeless. Nothing compared to being a parent of raped and murdered kid. Nothing compared to being imprisoned in a location-less facility by known unknowns. Nothing compared to blasphemy charges. Nothing compared to being silenced by the state. Nothing compared to the fear of state violence. Nothing. Empty shelves don’t concern me. What concerns me is pathetic minds and apathetic hearts. May this virus leave better humans behind for the next generation.

When is death glorified?

When there is something fishy. Something wrong.

Doctors become doctors by their own choice. Like soldiers. Or pilots. Or engineers.

But these doctors are always on the front line. Right now they are risking their lives against corona virus. Other than that, a single random prick, which happens occasionally, can lead to HIV or Hepatitis.

These doctors have night duties. Most of them are on call. During 4-years’ FCPS training, 36-hours rosters twice a week are common. Yet no doctor is glorified. Even when they die in the ‘line of duty’. No badge of martyrdom. Because they were doing their job. And were paid. Simple.

Let us look at janitors / cleaners. They clean gutters. Our filth. There are thousands of janitors / cleaners who are working with the Government. It is said that one person dies or succumb to serious infections daily in the ‘line of duty’.

Yet there is no glorification. No allotment of plots. No badge. No martyrdom. Nothing. Because they are poor, illiterate, stinky, and doing their job. Simple.

Next come the polio teams. In the line of duty. In the line of fire. Threatened. Mocked. Killed. Yet they continue working. Without glorification.

Constructors, brick-kiln workers, engineers and managers are working all across the country. Even in dangerous regions where workers were killed consistently; thousands of them targeted based on their ethnicity. Yet, the work continued uninterrupted. It is visible. Roads, bridges and infrastructure. Without a name. Without a trace of blood. Without glorification of the deaths.

But then we have different rules for different things.

APS kids were glorified because their deaths resulted because of state’s failure. While Sahiwal incident kids cannot be glorified because they were targeted. Like raped kids. Used, abused and killed.

First of all, condolences for the dead pilot. Every life is precious. Like every F-16 is precious. Accidents can happen. Anything can happen. Cars collide. Trains derail. Planes crash. People die. It’s routine.

The problem is discrimination between the dead bodies and insult instigated on the dead bodies of some and not others. When one is flushed like a used tissue paper while other is glorified all across the country.

Just when people were supposed to ask questions like why aerobatics, why parade, what cost, etc., death was glorified. No questions. No ifs or buts. Only patriotic dumbness.

Pakistan and India are two dumb nations. But India at least has the guts to make movies like “Rang De Basanti”. These aircrafts are a source of corruption and bribery. Of millions of dollars. India has MiG and Rafale stuff. We have our very beloved F-16s.

So far, Pakistan has lost 10 F-16s. Not a single one in war. But okay, accidents happen.

What’s not okay is… that 23rd March has nothing to do with aerobics or parade.

23rd March was officially the “Republic Day” of Pakistan until it was robbed by dictatorship. It’s name was changed after democracy was jailed and the First Opposition Leader, Fatima Jinnah, was defeated and politically murdered.

But what happened in 1940 that day?

Quaid-e-Azam gave the stage to A. K. Fazlul Haq (aka Sher-e-Bangla) to present the resolution on March 23rd, 1940. He was the Chief Minister of Bengal.

The Resolution consisted of five paragraphs and each paragraph was only one sentence long. Although clumsily worded, it delivered a clear message.

The word ‘Pakistan’ was not used in the resolution and the official name of the resolution was Lahore Resolution.

It was in the Hindu newspapers including Partap, Bande Matram, Milap, Tribune etc., who ironically coined the name ‘Pakistan Resolution’. However, the idea was appreciated by the Muslim masses and the Resolution is more commonly known as Pakistan Resolution.

Lastly, the word “states” and not “state” was mentioned in the Resolution. It means that the authors of the Resolution were foreseeing two separate states in the north-western and eastern zones of India (i.e. Pakistan and Bangladesh).

Read the history of A. K. Fazlul Haq on what happened next. He went against the All India Muslim League by forming his own party but lost in 1945 elections. In 1947, he joined the League campaign to include Calcutta in Pakistan.

He became the Chief Minister of Bengal in 1952. In 1955, he was the Home Minister of Pakistan and, from 1956 to 1958, Governor of East Pakistan. He is remembered as a traitor in Pakistan even today.

Now tell me, what does 23rd March have to do with aerobatics?

Exactly!

Advertisement.
Glorification is advertisement too.
It sells. It gives you goosebumps.
And whatever sells, is business.
And we are mere consumers.
Just like Tyler Durden said…

Duffers!

No one minds when maulana sahib is delivering a khutba on ‘Hoors’. Their bodies, figures, curves, shifting from one intercourse to another, having a ‘stamina’ of 70 men and performing to eternity.

No one minds. Regardless of the venue or audience.

For men, the concept of the Hereafter revolves mostly around pretty hoors and sex.

And no one minds. Not even in mosques. Even though the khutbas ignite passion and it’s ‘hard’ to pray later on for ‘sensitive’ men.

Yet. No one minds.

But just when women claim rights to their own bodies – read ‘own bodies’ – things change. Shame emerges. The same numbed-shame, which barely yawns lazily at rapes and abuses and murders and injustices, wakes up.

When people are deaf, an explosion is necessary to make them listen. But when they are dead, nothing can wake them up. Maybe hoors. I don’t know.

Anyway. Let me give you an example. Do you know anything about Prof. Salahuddin of Gomal University? If no, then shame on you for spitting now.
If yes, then shame on you for not spitting as much as you are spitting now.

In 1998, a woman was killed in Kot Addu, Muzaffargarh, when a male member of the family found about her affair. A young girl tried to save her chachi but was also shot dead.
Two women were murdered. Male members of the family forgave each other and things were settled.

In 2019, sister of the murdered young girl had a love marriage. Her family called her home to make peace. She and her 6 month old son, were shot dead. The husband forgave the family and things were settled.

Maybe it would be news for you but incestuous relationships are quite common in waderas and jageers of South Punjab and Sindh, where women are nothing more than wombs.

I can go on and on and on to tell you where women have suffered even after marrying, while men have roamed free even after rapes and murders.

But you don’t mind. Because perhaps, you don’t have one.

Tackle your hypocrisy before teaching religion. Religion isn’t a buffet where you can pick what you want and leave what you don’t like.

Let them speak. Let them share what they have gone through. Debate, if you disagree. But don’t create hurdles.

Don’t play the religion card.

Not here.

Not with me!

Khalil ur Rehman Qamar is one good reason that Aurat March should be organized. Everywhere. In every single city of this country.

This ugly mentality, the uglier use of words and the ugliest hatred towards the opposite gender, should be dealt with a no tolerance stance.

This society never came out with banners against child abuse. Never organized any rally / event to put things into place. Most of the rapists and abusers walk free while the abused and raped ones are shamed forever.

Those who never ever shuddered about kids being raped in mosques and madrassas, are suddenly terrified that their religion is in danger. Because of women. Women?

I don’t know when Kids’ Day will see light and the “slogans” will jolt the men of religion again.

This religion was never in danger. Only it’s male followers have been. Who ridiculed it. Made fun of it. Used it for power. Used it for money. Used it for influence. And used it to go free with blood on their hands. Men. Always have been men.

There should be victims’ day. Separate day for separate victims. Victims of rape. Victims of child-molestation. Victims of violence. Victims of blasphemy. Victims of judiciary. Victims of religion.

I am not a fan of Marvi Sermad. Not in agreement with all kind of slogans. Not in favor of those who take the limelight for personal interests. But if something is not igniting violence or discrimination, then freedom of speech / expression should stand.

“I Disapprove of What You Say, But I Will Defend to the Death Your Right to Say It.”

Sharing an old post:

You know ladies! You should be proud that you are not men. You should be happy that you don’t have this mardana kamzori, where you have to grab, re-position and aim your little circumcised brain every 5 seconds in public.

He used to teach numerous kids. He was not gay. That’s haram. But that day he couldn’t control himself. He did not allow a kid to go home until the lesson was learnt. The lesson was learnt a little before 8 pm, with blood dripping from his back. A little erection, which couldn’t satisfy his wife ever, destroyed a life forever.
May God never have mercy on us.
Amen!