Direction aur Lassi!

The road you take, may define, your fate, but you may have to chose one, first.

Before I start, I must state that I am not superior or inferior, to any fellow citizen of this country. 

Venturing into the rural Pakistan, is a great opportunity for the investors of knowledge. 

As children, we did not grasp that our parents were the biggest investors in our education, but the education, was our own to own!

We are a nation that is leaderless, and filled with people pleasers. People want money, that’s the only shared goal, some more, some less, each to their own imagination. There are lies everywhere, a sad state of affairs. Why any of these goals important and the middle class has burden itself with them, it needs a commission to investigate. 

WE WANT TO GAIN, WHAT WE CAN SHOW-OFF!

The fallacy of merit, is useless. The trajectory of success is simply relative to what you define, and held on perseverance and consistency. We have stopped reading and started watching reels. 

This country need inclusivity for the powerful and the powerless. A note-reading Vice Chancellor and a different dialect Pashtun, both need space, from the mass expectations. When we talk of intellectuality among the urban classes, we forget the intellectual default of our ‘lesser mortals’ in rural Pakistan.

Yet, if you can sell your coke to them over lassi, you can spend on marketing intellect to them, too. We need this domestic conversation. 

I am privileged with British education but I cannot talk nonsense of a single education system, in hands of the current status quo. We cannot put a curtain on the cancer of brain drain in Pakistan. It is an outcome of a problem, not a blessing-in-disguise-solution, as it is deemed and redeemed in power circles. The indifferent government running regulations is only acting out as welfare state for the rich at this point.

The insecurities of the middle class has borne the culture of negative vibes and jealousy. The individuals are not empowered but act as mere reflections of others’ opinions. The newer generations are burdened by unreal expectations, with no space. There is a rise in tendency to have political opinion which is usually a popular opinion with different wordings but let’s be fair, this piece too is part in parcel to this.

Truth is that people at the top don’t want our opinion, they want to remain unchallenged. For God’s sake the important agreements of our country in reference to development are not public. It’s not a secret that the recent policies in the country are made by foreign donors/loan lenders and consultants. The nation is a tool to sustainable lifestyles of, for, the couple of million people. 

When Alice asked the Cheshire cat, ‘which road should I take?’, and Alice didn’t know where she is going, the cat replied, ‘Then it does not matter which road you take!’

Democracy with elections, is important. But what we need in this journey of Pakistan, is to find a direction. 

To start with, we have to take to the alternative, the grass roots. From Karachi to Khyber, the major data sets and information, along with the truth & reconciliation of a 75+ years state’s past, should be shared with these ‘lesser mortals’, generate an organic opinion and discourse in these town hall and fields. Irrespective of their capacity to listen or add in the prospective national domestic debate. No matter what the outcome is, priority is to share the responsibilities and change roles. Most of all, record each opinion and discourse, and make it public, in true sense. 

Parliament has not channelized its resources. Take the academics, judges, lawyers, healthcare professionals, business persons, bureaucrats, civil society and intellectuals, to them, to channelize their thought process till outcome and let it be known. 

No tehsil should be left out on a whim. Social media, is not the tool for this. It’s rather like waiting for the grass to grow, No opinion or discourse should supersede another. 

Then let the elections follow. Repeat if needed. It’s a prescription.

This would be a start of the new beginning, to find our direction, as a nation.

Bookstore aur Khair!

When in doubt... books

That summer of 2011, sitting in a coffee shop... yeah, yeah, yeah, you all know how this God-Forsaken blog started. No one reads me except my royal loyal lot of religiously righteous readers. Thank you for putting up with my, saintly nonsense, within and beyond the realm of this blog. 

So where was I?! yes, I am afraid, I am soon going to meet the 'now' rich men and the 'then' weirdos, of the orange glaze night coffee and the everlasting judgmental fest. Alas! many have moved to foreign lands, in search of bronze, benefits and babbling brooks of the western rural lands.

I, the commoner of the city of saints, the self proclaimed sufi, and a profound nob! Feels the dreams of such were in actuality, be mean, birthin the dopamine of dreams to gain and fill colour to play. What say. The demon, whose middle school prognosticated to find the one in west. Naysay, the idiota dwelled and muddled in this very land that he roam then and still does, even now. The devil, he is still where he started.

The generation of mine has already transitioned to the later stages of life, while I stupidly make every effort running down my veins, to choose life! My advice to anyone of my age and still stuck in this place, not rich or happy, not booked or married.... open up a bookstore! Its a solid idea, to live... complicity. You may think of it this way, in words of stating an analogy... you can be the druglord who can does He/His/Him drugs, -no pun intended-. 

You get to read, escape, venture, adventure, discover, fall in love, rise intellectually, blah blah blah, reading your own store's books. I think you can choose to end piracy, for self-affirmative intentions of righteous deeds. It can be a philanthropy in the world moving to brain atrophy. 

You don't even have to sell books, lend them... eh! You might not be too ecstatic about it but the people might. Tip is, don't get attached to your books, ferment sheer pretentious goodwill, till you run out out of them, goodwill or the books, which ever is the first. 

Anyways, I am out, the sun is sinking off the blue sky. Good bye reader. 

P.s. Khair naal aah, tey khair naal jaah. 

Instinctual aur Ishq!

To be or not to be, together in love or marriage?!

The evolution of love is a revolutionary concept that challenges society's norms. Love teaches us to care for others, extend the range of our thought process, and respect others. While the institution of marriage was never about love, it is essential to humanize the concept of love and marriage to ensure societal progress. Suppressing love breaks the personality of women and challenges the divine nature of who we are as human beings. In short, love is not only a fundamental aspect of human nature but also a revolutionary concept that challenges society to be more humane.

Human evolution is dependent on sexual reproduction, making, love an instinctual feature of all living beings. However, while we may perceive love as instinctual, it is not. Love is a higher cognitive function that teaches us to care for others irrespective of what they do for us in return. It is a control and development of our instincts that extends the range of our thought process beyond quid pro quo. When we love someone, we learn to respect, take care of, and place their needs before our own. Love has taught men to respect women, but the institution of marriage was never about love. Instead, it was about property, wealth, and status.

Throughout history, romantic literature has played a role in humanizing the concept of love and marriage. For example, William Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet" portrays two individuals who should be together because of their love, not for the sake of their property, wealth, or status. This work of literature instructs readers on how life should be lived.

Love is also a revolutionary concept that challenges society. In regions of the world where the caste system is ubiquitous, controlling love is paramount to the system's stability. Suppressing love is elemental for such a society because marrying according to one's will threatens the fabric of the caste system. In these societies, arranged marriages are often preferred over love marriages because they maintain the stability, prestige, and esteemed pedigree of the family and clan. However, love tales such as Soni Mahiwal, Sussi Punno, Heer Ranjha, Mirza Sahiba, and Shereen Farhad all convey the message that keeping two lovers apart is a crime. A society that is constructed on breaking and crushing the nature and desires of human beings is, in the words of Germaine Greer, a society born to make eunuchs. Such a society molds women against their will, forcing them to marry for the benefit of their clan and suppressing their own desires. This approach breaks the personality of women and hinders societal progress.

اول حمد خدا دا ورد کیجے، عشق کیتا سو جگ دا مول میاں 

پہلوں آپ ہی رب نے عشق کیتا ، معشوق ہے نبی رسول میاں 

عشق پیر فقیر دا مرتبہ اے، مرد عشق دا بھلا رنجول میاں 

کھلے تنہاندے باغ قلوب اندر، جنہاں کیتا اے عشق قبول میاں 

- Waris Shah 

The wealth of the world was made in love, and God made the world in the worth of love. Therefore, those who stand against love stand against a sacred emotion that defines our divine nature. Violating this emotion is to violate the notion of who we are as human beings.

P.s. This blog post was inspired by a social discussion with a friend and a speech by Mr. Taimur Rehman on title, 'Revolutionary Love'

Unequal World aur Watan!

 

The book cover, worth a thousand words. 

Over the time, one comes to comprehend a certain amount of reality. Whether or not, as a man, I have been able to do so from childhood to this day. At times, there were many preconceived notions that I failed to displace, ending up in a very odd position because they were untrue and based on fabricated and allegorical times. But as time passed and those who were there to protect went away, the world seemed to have never changed, but the realities started strike in hard, undeterred and in an unstoppable fashion.

As I was growing up, I came to realize that I was part of the academic elite community, which I was, to some extent. However, this phenomenon is something that can only be associated with financial or social implications in a country like mine. At that time, I did not realize what kind of people I was getting along with, from private schooling. When I reflect, I see that most of my school fellows, with the right or wrong reasons, are in the best places within the country.

For much of my life, I had taken the concept of the ruling elite casually, and I knew it was wrong. I may have been fortunate, seeing some of those clouts, but that was in the younger part of life and with some amount of naivety. In a way, it’s a, closed system where marriages are a political strategy and a reflection of long-term planning, and if anyone enters that system, they are squeezed on the predisposition of adding to that system, and there is a very minute niche that qualifies. But the worst part is that the upper-middle class and the middle class itself seem to be replicating the dwellings of the elites of society, among themselves.

Friendship and marriages, in these classes, are being used for business interests, or climbing the corporate ladder (where it applies), as well as social and political connections, often being complemented with wealth. Climbing the social ladder for the middle class is one of the biggest challenges. Nonetheless, even if they replicate the tendencies of the elite, it does not mean to the fullest, due to obvious reasons.

The reasons behind it are that we live in an underdeveloped world where there is a lot of political instability as well as financial instability. Living in a country that has been on the verge of financial default, being in and out of various wars, and frequently volatile political situations, it's natural for everyone to look for protection with connections. So, each to his own.

I have been reading Rosetta Armytage's Big Capital in an Unequal World. The book delves into the inner workings of Pakistani elite society, presenting a fresh and compelling perspective that differs from the traditional narrative presented by our so-called male journalists in Pakistan. Rather than focusing on the pre-partition elite of the Muslim-subcontinent India, proclaimed traitors of the war of independence of 1857, but book also targets the newly rich class elites.

This particular division among the elites is also reflected in the current political realities where the new elite is competing with the old elite in the political arena. The old law is benefiting their world along with the bureaucratic and military connections. But as a middle-class and middle-aged man, I look at it with a certain amount of pessimism, realizing that it took so long to wonderstruck and understand what I know now.

In Pakistan, we can already see the elite capturing the country's resources, and I am surprised that during our childhood and schooling, we were never taught about the complex and important realities of this country, which we are supposed to be the future of. It is indeed difficult to wrap my head around the swelling predicament. The real question is, if I have to stay as a middle-class and disadvantaged citizen, then why stay in Pakistan? Why not move to some other Western country with no expectations? It's not just the elite class that is hampering the prospects of progress in Pakistan, but the middle class itself is also hell-bent on destroying it, if there were even any.

Talking of social mobility, I remember listening to a religious scholar’s sermon, where he was promoting aggrandization, saying that girls should marry in families which have higher social and economic status than their own, and it’s a sin to marry in lower social and economic status, if not equal. Furthermore, he advised the poor men, to have patience, as already being taken in other matters of life, as next life shall reward one’s patience, and console oneself in the fact that rich man who married the girl belonging from lower social and economic status and poor-self, will one day land in grave, and be soiled all the same. I am speechless.

It's tough to be like a skilled labor in this country; I have to work hard on a daily basis and work on my professional development. Now, the important element is to be recognized for one's efforts and get paid for it as well. In Pakistan, when one does that, it's with a lot more expectations. I guess that must change. Maybe I am not a valued individual either in the eyes of the state or the public. If that must be the case, then why not just move somewhere else with no expectations? Well, one can be alone and own his own, with peace of mind, once all the class demons are set aside, on-a-daily-basis.

There's so much that I still don't understand. Yet, while I am looking into the abyss, I am equally frightened as well as numb. It feels as if the realities of this society and this country that I live in, do not reflect much in my way of life or have ever had influence over me. My only salvation and self-fulfillment are in having faith and doing what's right, fulfilling the roles and responsibilities that I have inhabited with the experience of my life, which is in no way in comparison to any individual whatsoever around me. It is not only the end of any spoken competition, but also the death of envy and jealousy.

Working in healthcare made me realize that life and its utility. And, at times, it is often very relative, how to get changed in this world or the next. When you are young, you're crying and beautiful or handsome, but for some craziness, everything gets steeped in the living, in a matter of days. Relations and friendships all disappear. We are mortal beings. Life is painful, it's not forever, but hold strong. Nothing remains the same. Everything changes. Everyone lies. Be humane.

Looking back and reflecting on the swelling predicament of Pakistani society and one wonders why, during his childhood and schooling, we were never taught about the country’s complex and multifaceted reality of the situation. While the ruling elite and the newly rich compete for political power and control of resources, the middle class struggles to climb the social ladder and replicate the tendencies of the elite. Moreover, the problem is exacerbated by the country's political and financial instability, leading individuals to seek protection through connections and marriages for business interests and social and political connections. In the end, I want to highlight the need for education and awareness of these issues to create a more equitable and just society. Best wishes, y’all.

P.s.

تم سے پہلے وہ جو اک شخص یہاں تخت نشیں تھا 

اس کو بھی اپنے خدا ہونے پہ اتنا ہی یقیں تھا 

کوئی ٹھہرا ہو جو لوگوں کے مقابل تو بتاؤ 

وہ کہاں ہیں کہ جنہیں ناز بہت اپنے تئیں تھا 

آج سوئے ہیں تہ خاک نہ جانے یہاں کتنے 

کوئی شعلہ کوئی شبنم کوئی مہتاب جبیں تھا 

اب وہ پھرتے ہیں اسی شہر میں تنہا لیے دل کو 

اک زمانے میں مزاج ان کا سر عرش بریں تھا 

چھوڑنا گھر کا ہمیں یاد ہے جالبؔ نہیں بھولے 

تھا وطن ذہن میں اپنے کوئی زنداں تو نہیں تھا

- Habib Jalib

Love aur Dil Lagay!

بات تو صرف اتنی سے ہے

 کوئی اس روتے دل کو, لگا لے گلے،

 درد کے بہانے یہ اشک بہائے جاتے ہیں لیکن کوئی آ کر،

 دھڑکتے دل کو سمجھے جائ

It has been more than 12 years since I began this blog. A lot has happened in these years, but one thing that has remained constant is my love for satire. The tagline of this ol' blog still rings true to me today: "When life gives you lemons, it's time to make lemonade." During my time away from blogging, I've spent a lot of time thinking about the youth in land of the pure, where I hail from. It seems like there may be no child in Pakistan who has lived a normal childhood, at least not in recent times. Our society is plagued with insecurity and stress, and it's hard to imagine a childhood without those things. As we grow older, the insecurities and stresses of our youth stay with us. As we grow old, we face rejections, breakups, and heartbreaks. We may find ourselves at the low point of our professional lives, struggling to keep our heads above water. And in those moments, it can be hard to summon the courage to save a relationship that means everything to us.

I have been there. I have hurt people I loved because I was too caught up in my own insecurities and stresses to see what was in front of me. And by the time I realized what I had done, it was often too late. But here's the thing: even in the darkest moments of our lives, there is still hope. There is still the possibility of finding happiness, of making something good out of the lemons that life has handed us. In my own life, I've learned that it's important to take stock of the good things that have happened, even when it feels like everything is falling apart. I think back to the good times with the people I've loved, and those memories give me the strength to keep going.

So if you're going through a tough time right now, I want you to remember that there is still hope. There are good things in your life, even if it feels like they're hard to see right now. And most importantly, there are people who love you, whether they are in your life no more, and who want to see you succeed and be happy. It's easy to get bogged down in negativity and despair, but it's important to remember that we can choose how we respond to the challenges that come our way. We can choose to be hopeful, to be positive, to find joy in the small things.

In the end, life is what we make of it. We can choose to focus on the bad, or we can choose to focus on the good. And even when life hands us lemons, we can still make something sweet out of them. So here's to the good times, to the memories that stay with us even when everything else has faded away. Here's to the people who have loved us, and the people who still do. And here's to the future, whatever it may hold.

It's been a pleasure writing for you again, and I hope when you reading this, that this post has brought a smile to your face. Remember: when life gives you lemons, it's time to make lemonade.

Yours truly, 

The Lad from the City of Saints

p.s.

تھا عجب ہی دستور زمانہِ جداد کا

 نہیں تھی کدر یار کی جب وہ ساتھ تھا

فقط ہمیں محبّت ہوئی اس ہارجائے سے

 جو ہوا اس سے جدا، خود سے جدا

جہاں بھی یار، جانِ جہاں

ملے جس بادشاہ کو، ملے سب اسے وہاں

 ہے دعا بھی، اور تکذﺁ محبت، محبّت بھی یہی

 رہے خوش وہ سادہ، جو کبھی دِلِ سکوں تھا میرا

-عدیل صدیقی

Human aur Hamesha!

It's very interesting to be a millennial, in today's day and age. I have come a long way down the road, from the time when I used to live in the city of Saints. Private school education, public university graduation and then professional life. The impact of individualism has been massive, in both beneficial and deleterious, ways. These social and political changes in the land of the pure had a great influence on the life of this, currently lone middle-aged man. 

It has been more than a decade since I started this blog. What began as satire, with the combination of real-life experiences, soon became dull and outdated. In many ways things have become bad to worse but at the same time, what I consider the beauty of life, there were things that got better. Nevertheless, in the last couple of years the men and women, likes of me, have left the land of the pure, and found better prospects, in different parts of the world. 

For I at times look within and what is outside, and then look within, and what was outside. for it seems there is nothing much to adhere to, but to feel the spirits of the Saints. To imbibe the culmination of this worldly poison and at the same time cure it with patience. I have become bound to this land, where the connection to the city of Saints, forever, connecting me to spiritual upheaval. 

Finding myself in a career which depends on drug expertise, I see a metaphorical culmination and a hypothetical illumination, of this certain predicament of my life and probably the life of every other single middle-aged millennial. The feeling of being on a ventilator with this slowing heart rate knowing that life is slipping out of your hand with the number of other end organ failures, some imminent, some in full bloom. And then, you have to decide, when there is not enough blood to flow through your veins and your heart starts to race on and go into a drive, to phantom enough pressure to throw that blood to all corners of your body tissues. Voila! It starts to fail, and you wonder whether to slow it down a notch or just try to dilate those distant veins. For the choice that you make, it is dependent and adherent to the choices based on your values and principles and laws. 

Indulgence my friend is a privilege, and there aren't many who handle it, to the best of their ability. Similarly, with so much pressure to face for the last couple of decades, not knowing when it is going to end, you just wonder whether you need to slow down your mind that keeps racing every day, every hour, every minute, every second, of your life. That you want to dim down the noise around you so that you can focus on something, something that is more important in terms of your values, your priorities and most of all your survival, for this world and the next, hinges on. But when that happens you have no guarantee that things will get better in view of what you make as a choice. 

Every step has a consequence, no matter what you do, you must bear that in mind. The only ease, that seems like redemption is, either on a ventilator or de facto, there are at times the interventions of Higher Force that lead to the shore. And the shore can be anything, my friend. 

To err is humarn. 

p.s. Hamesha Dair Kar Deta Hoon Main, 

Har Kaam Karnay May, Zaroori Baat Kehne Ho, Koi Wada Nibhana Ho, 

Usay Aawaz Deni Ho, 

Usay Wapis Bulana Ho, 

 Hamesha Dair Kar Deta Hoon Main, 

Madad Karni Ho, Us Kee Yaar Ke Dhaarus Bundhana Ho, Bohat Dayreena Rustoo Par, 

Kisee Se Milne Jaanaa Ho, 

Hamesha Dair Kar Deta Hoon Main, 

Budaltay Mausmo Ke Sair May, 

Dil Ko Lagana Ho, Kisee Ko Yaad Rakhna Ho, 

Kisee Ko Bhool Jana Ho, Hamesha Dair Kar Deta Hoon Main, 

Kisee Ko Maut Se Pehlay, 

Kisee Ghum Se Buchana Ho, 

Haqeeqat Aur Thi, 

Kuch Us Ko Jaa Kay Yah Batana Ho, 

Hamesha Dair Kar Deta Hoon Main, 

Har Kaam Karnay May 

- Munir Niazi