Category: Pakistan

Remember how he died in the end? Do you see how unlucky he was? You know he never found peace?

Such are the words of losers. Those who can’t do anything, hence they pity the one who should be hated.

Power is when you are alive. It matters till death. With medals and meals. Uniform and prestige.  

After death, you may say whatever you want to say or even piss on the grave or demolish the mansion – the one who ruled over you won’t give a fuck. That whole mess afterwards won’t be anything but just a middle finger for your burning arse.

They are the ones who lived the life. You, who haven’t seen the afterlife, manage to have pity for them. Have you ever thought how pathetic you are?

You become sick and weak with the passing of years. And they! They attain the ultimate powers in sixties. To rule the land they live in. You may say they died a miserable death and blah blah, but you’ll die too. At least they lived like a king, not a ling like you.

Gaddafi died after ruling for over 40 years and had thousands of women in his harem. You betting on 72? Come on!    

Zia died with mangoes, but he lived above all of you for 11 years. Those who were rolling their eyes over his death, are mostly dead themselves. So?

Yahya ruled for 3 years. Those 3 were way better than 30 of others. You still listen to the melodious voice of Noor Jahan, while he, well may they all rest in peace.

Death’s only an excuse. And pity is only a weapon for those who themselves are pitiable.

These men with power – with or without religion as their tool – knew that this is all. Right here right now. Nothing is afterwards. While preaching you afterlife, they kept this life. While narrating you a promised heaven, they had all the liquor, land, and ladies here. Ah! A lot more than 72.

So, they in their 60s and 70s and even 80s. Struggling for power. More legitimacy. More wealth. And more fortune. You may keep on feeling bad but at least remember “Better to live one day as a lion than a thousand days as a jackal.” Yes, you are the jackal as well as the jackass.

Mourn now. Moan later. Doesn’t matter. Do as you please when they die. Right now, try to utter and they will snatch your voice forever.

If I must choose between Buzdar and Maryam… wait – It means I’m the Chief then. The chosen one. Above all the 240 million insects. To deliver the divine message to les misérables. Must be starving.

I’ll choose Nando’s.

With all the disagreements and criticisms you have with AIML or Jinnah – some valid – there is one core aspect of history that we forget and miss out conveniently.

Yes, I know about Lahore Resolution of 1940 and how it was ‘states’ and not ‘state’ and the word ‘Pakistan’ wasn’t even mentioned in the speech, and how the one who presented it, was discarded afterwards. Yes, I know.

But even then, you must remember and acknowledge that Pakistan is one of the rare countries in the world that was born democratically.

It was the provincial elections of 1946 that paved the way for Pakistan. Congress won 923 seats; AIML 425. Bengal, Punjab and Sindh made a clear, categorical case for Pakistan – as that was AIML’s manifesto. After elections, nothing could stop the country from emerging on the world map.

A country literally born from the ballot, not the bullet.

Before 1946, there were the 1937 elections, where AIML lost badly. It was only a blunder by Congress in 1939 when it resigned from ministries and Jinnah took over the moment to campaign in a different direction to eventually seal Independence.

Ah, a side note: remember who else did a similar blunder like Congress? Yes. Those who never read and learn from history. PTI in 2023 – resigning from Punjab and KP assemblies. Never miss history and never miss a chance to point out historical idiots. You may sound cool, look good, but a fool remains a fool.

Anyway. This country, this land – with all the misery its own children have bestowed upon it, is a land of democratic mystery. It wasn’t born out of war. Or a military conquest. Or even a revolution.

It was an evolution. It was a democratically won independent country.

Ironically, since its democratic birth, it hasn’t seen democracy. Only boots, barracks, barrel, and guns. Blood, violence, dead bodies, and coffins.

Yet, its DNA remains democratic. And it shall snatch that back someday. Democratically. Or not so democratically.  

You: May your soul rest in peace, sir.

Jinnah: It won’t.

You: Sir?

Jinnah: You people have failed the dream.

You: Yes, we have.

Jinnah: This country was not made to experiment with radicalism, be it religious or non-religious. It was not made to experiment with different forms of dictatorships and martial laws. I told you categorically that it would be a democracy. A state of the people, by the people, for the people – under complete civil order.

You: Yes sir.

Jinnah: Look what you have made? A mess. Everyone is enforcing on everyone else. Through guns, powder and power – without reason. We got this Pakistan on table with reasoning. Just dialects. Not force or war or battle. What’s this nonsense going around now? Killing and forcing your own fellow Pakistanis? Everyone in the pecking order spitting the one below him.

You: I have no answer sir.

Jinnah: You are the answer.

You: I am not. I am just a speck. I see hopelessness. When your sister couldn’t do it, none of us can.

Jinnah: Yes, you can. Together.

You: There is no we sir.

Jinnah: Then organize.

You: How?

Jinnah: By words. By dialects. By convincing. Not by force but by awareness through reasoning and dialogues. It will take decades; but every decade will be better than the previous one and it will not be like now where you are all living in a constant state of disgust, misery, and fear. Fatima was too old and too tired for military and its guns.

You: I agree sir. But she had a base. Here we are scattered and divided. People are abducted and killed. Others don’t even feel the pain until their own doors are knocked and knocked down.

Jinnah: Initiate struggle.

You: How can I struggle when I don’t see hope?

Jinnah: Imagine, write, convey, and convince. Hope will show a path. Paddle, and you will swim towards the shore.

You: I will drown like all others.

Jinnah: No, you will not drown before raising a generation to rise further but this will take time. Forty years for the Prophet to receive the first call – Iqra, ‘Read’. Twenty-three years for the Quran to be revealed – Walyatalattaf, ‘Handle with kindness and deliberation’. Forty years for Moses and his people to wander in the desert. About two decades for Christ to work in obscurity before his divine mission. Fourteen years for Rama’s exile in the Ramayana. Even Beethoven’s Ninth took over thirty years and Taj Mahal twenty-two. Just begin. It took me from 1906 to 1940 to conclude that a separate homeland was the solution, not separate electorates. When I saw hopelessness in one path, I found another: Pakistan. I know there are ifs and buts even in the way this country was conceived and in my own actions. Fine. Speak of that too. Criticize me. Question all your elders. Then reach a consensus of disagreements. Bury us and write your own constitution.

You: I am sorry sir.

Jinnah: No, don’t be. Just take the first step. Begin.

You: Will it be worth a struggle?

Jinnah: Absolutely.

You: Will you witness that?

Jinnah: [He smirks, turns to the round table where over a hundred sit smiling] Why not?

Every day has been a new short story in Lahore’s monsoon. July has been blessed and seduced to an extent that it has been wet for over two weeks now.

It’s evening in noon. Again. Other times, it’s dark days and thundering nights. Last night’s drive in the rain was scary to hell, but it was too seducing to be spent at home.

Imagine a short story in a dark day.

Stuck on a flooded road and there’s this small woman in a small car. Smiling and talking to herself – a little confused but unable to leave Lahore on its own. Short curly hair. Large eyeglasses with a thin frame. Thin lips. Fairly fair. And then you don’t mind being stuck.

In fact, you carry the short story slowly without being annoyed anymore of being late for something very, very… unimportant. Then, at one most significant moment of the monsoon day in Lahore, she looks at you, smiles, and gestures as if to say “We’re stuck”.

“Yes, we are,” he smirks and thinks and then he thinks to be stuck for a little longer.

Nothing seems important after that unknown woman. And your day goes on beautifully – without a future, promise, conflict, judgement, or separation.

A complete short story is the incomplete one.  

I know. Frustrating. The narrator is ignorant and blasphemous. Fine.

Imagine the monsoon in Lahore again. The whole season being spent with the one. In one’s arm. Hand in hand, waiting for the rain to fall so they can hug without this city’s judgement. Driving in the rain toward unknown destinations. Hand in hand.

The first rain and the first gesture.

Another one with a hug.

Another one with a kiss.

Another rain, another love, still with the same one.

Then comes frustration.

What’s more? How to get more? Possession!

Then comes the conflict – another rain, and the first argument.

Then the first fight with no contact for the three rainless days when the city tried to took a break, though the sun didn’t shine either.

Then what? More rains and more fights.

More arguments.

Both wanting more from each other. Hence, frustration.

And then, before the last spell of the monsoon… it ends. The novel ended before the season did. The divorce lasted longer than the marriage. In fact, the divorce came without a marriage.

Such a shame.

Come back to the short story. The girl with a curly hair, no dragon tattoo, one small gesture, a wide thin smile, and that was that – the end. Perverts.  

Like this rain ended without an epilogue in Lahore.

For another rain to fall.

For another short story to be written.

For another eternity to be marked.

Whatever. Lahore is a whore even without the monsoon. This city is that whore of Manto that cannot be ignored and that cannot be left ever.  

War has made both sides bonkers. It’s not as clean for your side as you think. And it’s not as ugly for the other side as you mock. But yes, it ended with Pakistan on top. And that’s how you rhyme in war.

I was reading Mehdi Hasan’s “Win Every Argument” when the war broke out. Honestly, we are nothing short of loud comedians ourselves.

Let’s start with Piers Morgan Show. Yes, the host has always been biased. He’s someone who thinks Ronaldo is better than Messi. His credibility goes down the gutter therein. What happened after his famous interview with Ronaldo before the FIFA World Cup 2022? And what happened afterwards? Messi.

So, what were you expecting? A host supporting you? All the settings in your favor? Then how could it have been a debate?

A real debater is the one who wins the arguments in a hostile environment. That environment was not even completely hostile. Yes, the other side had two idiots to represent India but what did we do?

First, let’s make an answer for one of the hardest questions for every future Pakistani debater on international platforms.

As Piers Morgan and Barkha Dutt asked Hina Rabbani Khar (and Mehdi Hasan asked her exactly the same question in 2015 and she deflected):

“Do you recognize certain outfits as terror organization?”

Hina Rabbani didn’t answer. She knew she had been asked this question before. She knew she would be asked again. And she is a politician, associated with foreign affairs. And she had 9 years to prepare an answer. Yet, she deflected.

Here’s an answer:

“Yes, we do recognize and ban organizations involved in terrorism. Pakistan has consistently acted against such groups – JeM and LeT were banned in 2002, Al-Qaeda in 2003, and TTP in 2008. We have conducted extensive counterterrorism operations, fulfilling our obligations under UN, and our efforts have been acknowledged by the FATF. Pakistan’s commitment to combating terrorism is firm and ongoing. We have paid the price with over 70,000 casualties. Do you think we are not serious? We believe that all countries must hold extremist actors accountable, and we urge others to demonstrate the same commitment – without exception.”

Now, if an Indian happens to be there in the debate – like in the Piers Morgan show – the answer would continue as:

“Having said that, what has India done? There was the Gujarat massacre in 2002, the Ajmer Dargah bombing in 2007, the Malegaon and Modasa blasts in 2008, the Odisha Assembly attack in 2001, and the Lakhimpur Kheri violence in 2021. Over 2,000 people have lost their lives in Babri Masjid demolition. Countless incidents of mob lynching and cow vigilantism have plagued India. Even sexual violence has been weaponized, as seen in the horrific Bilkis Bano case. These incidents are linked to individuals and groups affiliated with the RSS and BJP. And what has been India’s response? They elevated the Butcher of Gujarat to the office of Prime Minister – and then choose to question Pakistan.”  

But no. We had zero preparation.

Imagine knowing the exact question that will appear on the exam and still leaving it blank. That was Miss Hina Rabbani. Don’t praise the debaters just because you happen to be their countrymate.

Imagine Shashi Tharoor there instead of Barkha Dutt. Things would have been catastrophic.

Shehzad Ghias started low. The OBL response took him off guard. That’s fine. His comeback in the last five minutes was exceptionally good with cherry on top, with the last two words. Those last 5 minutes were the victorious part of the show for Pakistan. Only.

Still, we were lucky to escape that debate with their poorest presenters sent to fight the war. Just like they did in the dogfight, perhaps.

We mock their mainstream media accurately. But our own mainstream media is as pathetic, except we don’t shout like Arnab Goswami. We maintain a decorum of hypocrisy. We keep our one eye closed.

For example, exactly during the war days, people were killed in FATA. Who killed them? Why were they killed? Something? Anything? Nothing on mainstream media. In fact, social media filtered them out too because nobody wanted to see their backyard in jubilations. Why stink your media or timeline?

For us, the eastern border is everything and the western border is nothing. On one side, we cry about civilian casualties and on the other side we pile up dead bodies.

In the ugly Indian mainstream media, there were panelists who sat and analyzed their weaknesses. They talked about their losses. They criticized their government and military harshly. Did we see anything like that? No.

This jingoism has cost us a lot internally. A stupid enemy – yes, India – has hurt itself by poking the animal who got wounded by attacking its own tribe for decades. These war dramatics have covered up all our mess and the real perpetrators have gotten another blank cheque to perform at will.

YouTube can be your source of current affairs and documentaries, but it cannot be a source of learning. For that, you need to leave these podcasters, these shows, and these jokers. They all sell content even when they say “I am not asking you to subscribe” just make themselves a niche content creator. They are there for view and likes and subscribers.

Right now, they are all onto targeting each other with all the logical fallacies at display. But since the audience of herd likes it, everyone is in love with every YouTuber. In the comments section, praises are kept, and it looks like they are all loved even in insulting each other.

In her 1,000-page book “My Seditious Heart”, Arundhati Roy had written some in-depth and long articles. Those articles cover 2001 Parliament attack, the 2002 burning of the Sabarmati Express, and the 2007 bombing of the Samjhauta Express, the government of India announced that it has ‘clear and incontrovertible proof’ that the LeT did that. She proved with timelines, objective information, police record, and court hearings that none of them were proved as the Indian Government claimed.

She wrote: “In its judgment, the court acknowledged that there was no proof that Mohammad Afzal belonged to any terrorist group but went on to say, ‘The collective conscience of the society will only be satisfied if capital punishment is awarded to the offender.’ Even today we don’t really know who the terrorists that attacked the Indian Parliament were and who they worked for.”

But since no one reads anymore and everyone is up to YouTubers who pretend to read twenty books a week – which is humanly impossible. Hence, no one in any debate or podcast quoted Roy. Or the wording of Indian Courts. Or something else. Everything has become all about instant rebuttals, personal attacks, one-liner-insults, and reactions.

Don’t get consumed. If you want to, then watch the opposing narratives too. And then analyze your own with open mind. [I too get consumed by tapping X or YouTube and then when you realize, half an hour is wasted already.]

Lastly, to the viral of mother of an Indian soldier tells everything. Her eyes had grief of an entire generation in a single stare. She did her job. Walked to the coffin. Touched the flowers. Pictured. But her son was tightly boxed and flag wrapped over it. Her son was never going to come and greet her ever again.

A mother here or a mother there; is a mother anywhere.

A widow here or a widow there is a widow.

A child who lost his father – in Pakistan or in India – is going to be fatherless for the rest of his/her life.

If these pains are not going to humanize us, nothing else will.

As Arundhati Roy said, “flags are bits of colored cloth that governments use first to shrink-wrap people’s brains and then as ceremonial shrouds to bury the dead.”

This whole war and its aftereffects are getting tiring day by day. Save your mind and your eyes and avoid this as it is becoming overconsumed junk now. Don’t trash yourself and make yourself busy doing what you were supposed to be actually doing.

And ‘speak the truth, even if your voice shakes’.

“If you have problems with this country, then leave this country.”

“It’s easy to bark from outside. Come back and then talk about this country.”

—–

“He has brought his children to the country. See, he is raising the next generation to rule us.”

“He hasn’t brought his children to the country because he knows this country is worthless; yet he himself wants to rule forever.”

—–

“These celebrities shouldn’t speak on political and religious matters. They know nothing.”

“See, these celebrities never speak. They prefer to remain silent because they are privileged and don’t mind injustice outside their comfort zones.”

—–

“Foreign companies come here, loot us, and take our money abroad.”

“We need foreign direct investment else we are going to be bankrupt.”

—–

“They are poor because they don’t work hard.”

“They came out of poverty after cheating the system.”

—–

“We must preserve our culture and traditions.”

“Our culture and traditions have brought us to this disadvantage in comparison to the world.”

—–

“He never changes himself.”

“He’s changed. He’s not the same person I admired once.”

—–

“Our family system defines well-being of our next generation.”

“Our family system has destroyed the potential of our generation.”

—–

“There is no compulsion in religion.”

“The state must implement religion through laws.”

—–

“A woman should be independent.”

“A woman without a man is incomplete.”

—–

“See her. Looks don’t matter. Hard work does.”

“See, looks matter. Otherwise, what else does she have?”

—–

“She should take divorce. How long is she going to face violence and torture? She’s setting a bad example for her daughters.”

“She took divorce because she wanted to live free without any responsibility. She’s a bad example.”

—–

“He’s a family man. Else he could have used his potential to make a fortune.”

“All he has made is worthless money after neglecting his domestic roles and responsibilities.”

—–

“Men who rape should be castrated and imprisoned for life.”

“She was asking for it. It was long overdue. Can’t blame men for everything.”

—–

“The constitution allows us freedom of speech.”

Beep. The one who spoke is missing.

A hungry man robs. You don’t like it, but you do understand it.

A threatened person lies. You don’t like it, but you do understand it.

A deprived woman steals food. You don’t like it, but you understand it.

A poor child takes someone’s toy home. You don’t like it, but you do understand it.

Hamas attacks Israel. 1,200 casualties. Condemned. But you do understand that it decades of atrocities led to this outrage. No need to explain this. You understand.

Kashmiris, Yeminis, Iraqis, Afghans, Naxalites, Adivasis… you understand.

Every religion has stories of war. Of standing for what they believed was right. Fighting against the mighty powers with marginal forces.

Religions survived on the bodies of those who died in the sacred and holy wars. You understand that too.

Ironically, every religion was “blasphemous” in the beginning for the already established religions – yet it didn’t punish itself of blasphemy. It stood. It fought. It carved its path through history of empires, deaths, wars and peace.

Don’t awe and blink as if I’m the only… You do understand this too, don’t you?

Thus whispered Zarathustra!  

Unsimilarly – I’m neologist, nothing wrong with the word – you become a pious hypocrite. A nationalist creep. A patriotic discriminator.

Balochistan is more than the derogatory trends you see on social media. It is more than it is censored on mainstream media. It has a history of deprivation, blood, and dead bodies. Of stolen rights. Of denied resources. Of ego-driven military operations. Divide and rule. Missing people. Terrorism. Fanaticism. Experimentation. Religion-based hate.

So much so that common people avoid to visit altogether.

But uncommon people – civil and uncivil establishments – lust for this cruel concubine as it makes you rich quicker than real estate files of DHA. Not just smuggled cars, petroleum, minerals, dead bodies, and traitors come out of it… pizzas come of it too. Million-dollar pizzas.

So when they raise their weapons… condemn. But understand.  Understand their shrieks, their anger, their raised voice, their slurs, their tears… and their bullets.

They didn’t pick weapons by choice. We forced them to. We set the stage. We sold them weapons. We turned war into business. They die; we make money. And of course, military courts and budget.

By “we” you do understand what I mean.

I could list dates, numbers, and the dead – but you already know. Even as you camouflage yourself in hypocrisy.

If all you can do is lick boots and hump on the state’s narrative – moan and own. But do it alone and choose not to vomit everywhere.

With that, have a blessed last Jumma of Ramzan. You prayed your way. I prayed this way.

Aurat March is foreign-funded.

Mahrang Baloch is foreign-funded.

PTM is foreign-funded.

BYC is foreign-funded.

Liberals are foreign-funded.

Ahmadis are foreign-funded.

Dawn is foreign-funded.

Edhi was foreign-funded.

Asma Jahangir was foreign-funded.

Sabeen was foreign-funded.

Parween was foreign-funded.

Herald was foreign-funded.

Our pimping-wars were US-funded – from making Talibans to killing Talibans to reviving Talibans to apologizing Talibans.

Ever wondered if 23^rd March was foreign-funded too?

The whole country is foreign-funded. Yet it remains poor, stunted, and myopic. But not everything is foreign-funded.

Movies, songs, advertisements, goosebumps, and nationalism are ISPR-funded.

TLP, JuD, LeJ, SSP, banned outfits, unbanned outfits, polo grounds, marriage halls, elections, nightmares are Pindi-funded.

Blasphemy and mob lynchings are funded at community-level through madrassahs and mosques.

Bureaucracy Babus and Aapis are poor taxpayers-funded to run Instagram overtly and bribe-chains covertly.

Hate and corruption are mutually-funded.

Accountability? Selectively-funded.

Justice and truth? Unfunded.