Land of a thousand souls

He opened his eyes after a long sleep. So long that even he didn’t remember. Where was he? He did not know. All around him was land. Far stretching out land. For the first few moments of his new awakening he couldn’t fathom the place he had reached. Nor could he anyone else, any other living being. Even the trees and the plants seemed to be dead. As if crystallized for all eternity. That was his answer right there. But he didn’t know that.

Now that the feeling was completely back in all his limbs, he got up, to explore. What ? Where ? He didn’t know. It all seemed the same. Land stretching out in all directions without any end. The horizon was the same across 360. There was something else that was strange about this place, this world. The sky was not blue. It was white, but the sun was shining just the same. It seemed like a normal sunny sky, only without the blue. And in it’s place a white sky.

He vaguely started remembering what happened last before his timeless sleep. He was on the emergency table, he was there because he had had an accident. He died. He remembered dying. So where was he now ?

Just as he was thinking and trying to recall his roots and eventual passage to this strange place, he started seeing faces all around him.  The faces seemed lost to him … almost as if in a trance. As if they were heading some place. He tried figuring out where but couldn’t. The entire scene seemed like a phenomenon to him.  A phenomenon it started creeping onto him that he would soon be a part of. It seemed to him that the faces were just going through some right of passage. It was a step. A phase. A small part in a bigger scheme of things. And he was smack in the middle of it.

He started feeling this sensation that there weren’t just a few faces, but hundreds. And then those hundreds turned into thousands. He started getting a grip of where he was. He had died. All these faces around him seemed dead. It all just started making some sense to him. He was dead, in between a thousand dead faces. Where could he be? Where else but in the waiting room before heaven or hell.

He now started thinking of all his life, it seemed like his life started flashing before his eyes, for a second time, for he remembered the flash before dying. And now he was looking at everything more critically, what he had done in his life and all. He was searching for a defense argument for himself. For being anointed into the throes of heaven.

He was about to give his own verdict, when suddenly he stopped thinking , he stopped feeling, and started fading, and started walking. Focusing on a single direction ahead. Just like all the other faces, the thousands of other faces around him. He knew now without thinking that he was in a land of a thousand souls. And his was next in line to be judged.

The Theatrics of Pakistan’s Politicking

It’s been an unfortunate past 2 weeks for Pakistan’s Political set up. Especially for the ‘coalition government’ which is striving to make Musharraf’s work towards the democratic process a success and is taking the credit all to themselves. First the unprecedented attack on Former CM Arbab. And then, the hooliganism shown on the night the so called Lawyers’ movement to restore the judiciary and self proclaimed achievers of the road to democracy harassed and tortured former Parliamentary Affairs Minister Dr. Sher Afgan Niazi. These two incidents are extremely sad and unbecoming of a nation which proclaims to be back on the development track and which is back to democracy. The so called democracy doesn’t seem to be present in these two situations and is in fact replaced by anarchy. For whatever their faults and misdeeds , Arbab and Sher Afgan should be tackled by all concerned parties through the right system. And not by taking Law into your own hands and assaulting them. No one should be treated that way, let alone former Ministers. Dammit they were ministers of this country and Arbab is a MPA in the SIndh Assembly like or not, whatever the grievances against them, should be taken up through the ‘legal’ process.

Following the incident of the torturing of Dr. Sher Afgan Niazi, the President of the SCBA, Chaudry Aitzaz Ahsan, announced his resignation, and then after a lot of persuasion, after a lot of throwing around the blame, and a lot of ‘pressure’ he withdrew his decision. The idiotic idea of the attack on the former minister by the lawyers’ to be deemed as a conspiracy hatched from the presidency, as touted by Chaudry Aitzaz Ahsan is baseless. The presidency for whatever it’s worth right now, is seeming sidelined at the moment with the elected government still enjoying it’s euphoria. It’s nonsense. Pure nonsense.

As if that was not enough, April 9th saw retaliation and reaction in Karachi, and today, April 11th, saw yet another resignation and withdrawal. Owing to the theatrics of Altaf Hussain, the self – exiled leader of the MQM. Blaming the MQM Leaders in Pakistan for not controlling the situation in Karachi on April 9th, he said it was best if he stepped down, and that the leaders should end their boycott of the National and Sindh Assemblies. Of course he was never really going anywhere from the power that is bestowed upon him by his own self over the loyalists of MQM and of course the ruling party of Karachi. It is an unquestionable fact that the MQM is run by Altaf Hussain with an Iron Grip, and that no other leader in the party can posses such a commanding loyalty. It is in fact a quasi state one could say.

The message of course being clear. The Politicking is moving from the theatrics to the distinct image of the 90’s only with a mix of both, cut throat ’shatranj’ and theatrics. One hopes that the economic gloom doesn’t also return as was present during that decade. It is my belief and opinion that, the best way for the country at this juncture is for all the stalwarts to take a special ‘Golden Handshake’ or an extension to the NRO, and go away with their corrupt riches. I say go away with the riches because honestly I don’t see anyone bringing them to true justice. We need new faces to run this country, to lead it. We need fresh blood. Not fresh or new as in young blood, but certainly no one with anything to do with the 90’s or the Chaudry Bradraaan for that matter. The PPP, at the moment, seems to be the only party with that fresh agenda. Zardari so far playing his cards well, has gotten his own clean slate for life, become a king maker, and is practically the head of the party which would die for the Bhutto family. Yes, they are that loyal. MQM’s loyalists are something of a different league of course ( as was portrayed by the hysterical women crying at Altaf Hussain’s announcement to resign ).

Point being simple: The Politicking must now come to an end. There must be stability. There must be change in the society as well. The state of affairs of the country won’t change unless those concerned change themselves, and in this case they would be the nation themselves. Unless we change ourselves as a society, and here I am obliged to add that we are an unruly society for most parts and that needs to change. The social ethos needs to develop withing ourselves. The law abiding citizen must awaken. Only then can there be hope of change. And in fact will be change.

I once again end by saying All pray for this country.

The Morning Coffee

You know when the coffee isn’t entered into your system in the morning that it’s just going to be that kind of a day. The day that wears on itself and one that would bore even the most unsuccessful critic. (Going by the theory that Critics thrive on negative reviews. In fact enjoy writing them, and get kicks out of them as well. ) However I really must not digress.

As I was saying, Coffee, whatever it might be for different people, is very important. Different Strokes for Different Folks of course. Some like coffee some like a cold shower. Some like tea and some are cuckoos who get up at 6 in the morning and go out jogging, even in the winters when the sun is not up entirely yet. Everyone needs their coffee. I know I do. It’s important. Otherwise the rest of the day seems to go to the gutter. And good old Murphy seems to be kicking in with his laws and what nots.

The boss treats you like shit. In the case of the college going, young birds of spring, it would be the teacher. It just so happens to become the day he didn’t have his coffee but through no misfortune on part of nature, but as a result of a quarrel at home. This puts him in an angry mood of course. And that’s where you come in, to act as the sponge you are and soak up all the pile driving, bull dozing fun that’s being thrown towards you.

It gets even better (PLEASE SENSE THE SARCASM IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY). Once you are through with class, you accidentally bump into the college meathead jock, who feels so emasculated all the time that he’s constantly thriving to impress the opposite sex. This you do when stepping out of class by banging the door into him. Oh, you are prime prey for this guy then.

Once the cuts and bruises session is over, you go over to your girl friend. (Assume from now only that this is from a guy’s mind, hence it will be directed so as well). Ah the angel of your eyes. The love flutterer of your heart. The person who validates your joy and soothes your pain. Just what you need after the horrible start to the day. NOooooo I don’t think so, because she’s having a bad hair day and by some screwed up rule in the universe, it’s all your entire fault. Always and forever. So I am sorry really, it just continues not to be your day, and your angel isn’t wearing any wings for the day either.

Your friends, your buddies, your amigos. The guys who will definitely be there for you through thick and thin. They are like brothers to you. Alas. should have had that coffee someway or the other really. It turns out that it’s just the right sort of day for them to carry out pranks on you. With success. And some untidy tidings on your part.

You go home. Family, they will understand you. After all what’s closer then blood. Nothing. Blood is thicker then everything. Your mom will see her child and become protective. Your father will want to spoil you. And your siblings will give you a chance to earn your money. The right and proper and easy (at times) way. Have you not learned anything yet? On a day without coffee your family, of course accidentally has to plan stuff just at the time I was coming back. Brilliant. Stay outside.

Come one man. Heed to all of this. Have your coffee without fail. One missed cup or inspiration of coffee, and the entire thing goes to whack.

Hero

The music cuts through the darkness. Lost souls look towards the void of the gates. A gleam of hope enters their eyes. The elders rise from their dust, and the young ones await their longing fate. The moon shines brighter than it has the past so many years. The tyranny shivers. The chosen appears.

Through the gates enters a man on a horse. Glowing, almost as if supernaturally. Layered in black clothes, and on top of a black horse. His eyes seem pure. His face exudes strength. The music seems now to be coming from everyone’s hearts. For they know what they see. And what they see is their savior.

It seems so near now, so much within grasp. The freedom that they are all dying for. They are all hungry for. The freedom, that is rightfully theirs. The chosen one has arrived. The legend holds true. The old wizard of the people now makes way from his dark cave, to make the final declaration, to confirm everyone’s hopes and beliefs. To confirm everyone’s joy.

But before he can speak, the man they want to be their hero speaks. His voice, booms through the silence and the awe of the entire village.

” I am not God. I am not his Angel. I am not his worker. I am a mere mortal. I am a mere man. I will do all that I can to help you. I will do all that I can to fight with you. But I cannot do more than that which I am capable of. And even thou, to this day, no man who has challenged me in battle has lived to seen another day, I can assure you this, this battle is going to be different. It will be a battle for faith. The faith of this entire world. Not just your own home. You say I am a legend. You say I am the savior who will defeat the tyranny of those who work in the ways of the devil. You say I am the man-child of the great Angels of yore, who will stand up to Satan himself. I am not Aries, lord of war. I am not herculean, son of Greek Gods. I am a mere mortal. I am made of pure flesh and blood. So do not put all of yourself onto me. Look to yourselves. Battle with me, and then this battle of yours just might be won. Stay in your homes, always ready for suppression, and nothing will come of it. Your identities will simply be wasted with the sands of time, and your faces long forgotten. Your children will have no future, and your elders would have lost their past. Rise with me. I can only help those, who choose to help themselves. That’s what God says. That’s what I believe in. Rise now. Rise to see a new dawn. A different day. A freedom that you and your ancestors have so longed. Rise. RISE NOW OR FOREVER BE LOST! “

People are moved. They are struck by the words of this stranger. The stranger they think is the chosen one. Their hearts are racing even more. The sleeping passion within them stirs and kicks, and is beginning to wake. And then, as if it struck them all at once. They cheer in unison. They cheer for their lives. Their cheer for a battle to change the world. They cheer for the faith their ancestors used to thrive on. They cheer to shed the chains around their souls. The cheer and cheer into the night. They hail the entry of their hero. A mortal he may not be, but a hero he is still.

The music is louder, the music is in their hearts. Its in their minds. But its the same music on everyone’s minds. In everyone’s hearts. It’s the music of awakening giant. And a giant they are, for they are the people of the faith, the people of pure. And the follower’s of God’s laid down plans.

The Ant and the Grasshopper

GLOBAL VERSION

 

The Ant works hard in the withering heat all summer building its house and laying up supplies for the winter.

 

The Grasshopper thinks the Ant is a fool and laughs & dances & plays the summer away.

 

Come winter, the Ant is warm and well fed. The Grasshopper has no food or shelter so he dies out in the cold.

 

PAKISTAN VERSION

 

The Ant works hard in the withering heat all summer building its house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The Grasshopper thinks the Ant’s a fool and laughs & dances & plays the summer away.

 

Come winter, the shivering Grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the Ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold and starving.

 

Geo TV, ARY News, AAJ and DAWN News show up to provide pictures of the shivering Grasshopper next to a video of the Ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food.

 

The World is stunned by the sharp contrast. How can this be that this poor Grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?

 

Chief Justice Iftikhar takes a Suo-moto against the Pakistan Government for not upholding the fundamental rights of the Grasshopper.

 

 

 

Imran Khan goes on a fast along with other Grasshoppers demanding that Grasshoppers be relocated to warmer climates during winter.

 

 

 

Asma Jahangir stages a demonstration in front of the Ant’s house.

 

 

The Internet is flooded with online petitions seeking support to the Grasshopper (many promising Heaven and Everlasting Peace for prompt support as against the wrath of God for non-compliance).

 

 

 

Shahid Masood at Geo openly criticizes the military regime for the fiasco

 

 

Qazi Hussain and opposition MPs stage a walkout. 

 

 

 

Jamaat-e-Islami calls for “Hartal” in Frontier and Baluchistan demanding a Judicial Enquiry.

 

MQM Coalition in Sindh immediately passes a law preventing Ants from working hard in the heat so as to bring about equality of poverty among Ants and Grasshoppers.

 

Sheikh Rasheed allocates one free coach to Grasshoppers on all Pakistan Railway Trains, aptly named as the ‘Grasshopper  Express ‘.

 

Finally, the President drafts an ordinance ‘ Anti State Terrorism Against Grasshoppers Act’ [ASTAGA], with effect from the beginning of the winter. Mobilizes state agencies.

 

Punjab Govt. makes ‘ Special Reservation ‘ for Grasshoppers in Educational Institutions & in Government Services.

 

The Ant is fined for failing to comply with ASTAGA and having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, it’s home is confiscated by the NAB and handed over to the Grasshopper in a ceremony covered by PTV.

 

Nawaz Sharief calls it ‘ A Triumph of Justice ‘.

 

 PPP  calls it ‘ Democratic Justice ‘.

 

MQM calls it the ‘ Revolutionary Resurgence of the Downtrodden’

 

Prime Minister invites the Grasshopper to address the National Assembly.

 

Many years later……

 

The Ants have since migrated to the US, Canada, UK and Middle East, have worked harder then they did before and have set up a multi-million dollar business.

 

100s of Grasshoppers still die of starvation despite reservation somewhere in Pakistan …

 

As a result of loosing lot of hard working Ants and feeding the Grasshoppers, Pakistan is still a developing country!!!