Guzara Nahi Hota!

Anyone remember the PTV drama with the above title aired a couple of decades ago! Let me recollect some trivia of “Guzara Nahi Hota” wherein an upper middleclass family finds it hard to cope with growing expenditures against the stagnant monthly income. Being owner of a sizeable house, a car and good job, the head of a family nearing retirement is wary of how to meet existing and future demands from the paltry income. One day a poor farmer from his ancestral village visits him, who walked some 10 miles distance to reach his house and still looking fresh. He offers the farmer some food to eat but the farmer politely smiles and brings out from his bag a piece of Gur (raw sugar) and a chapati, and starts eating.  The owner takes a deep look at the farmer and asks: You seem to be a very poor person, how do you manage to live with almost none or meager income? The farmer smiles again and says: Alhamdulillah, I’m doing very well. I’m grateful to Allah on bestowing my family with a kacha (made with un-burnt bricks) house, we have some clothes to put on and earn food from the work we do in the field all day long. That’s what we need to live. And he concludes with: Mera bara sohna guzara hota hae.

On the contrary, millions of people find it extremely hard adjusting their monthly income to fulfill ever-growing needs. The centuries old concept of meeting basic needs i.e. food, clothes and house is no more valid even in rural areas in the contemporary world. In an average middleclass family, it is true that kitchen and clothes do not cost much but other expenditures such as ever escalating utilities bills, exorbitant schooling fees, vehicle maintenance costs, buying new appliances and gadgets on hire purchase, expensive cell phones; at least one for each member of the family, internet charges (now add wifi systems also), and the most heartbreaking one; receiving an invitation to attend a marriage ceremony in the family that requires attending all 5 to 10 functions. Hence, Parkinson’s Law that says; “work expands so as to fill the time available for its completion” can be better transformed here as; “expenditure expands to adjust with the increased income”.

I for one, without being ungrateful to Allah (SWT), feel the same crunch. Uttering Shukar Alhamdulillah never gets me to the level of the farmer. Thus, in spite of having permanent job in the public sector, handsome salary with fringe benefits, official & personal cars and living in a small cozy but rented house maintaining a well educated family I cannot escape Parkinson’s Law. So, where did I fail & falter? Like thousands of people who are trying in vain to maintain their middleclass status while having their eyes and efforts pinned on the upper middleclass, I am also a victim of similar daydreaming without generating the necessary resources. Way back in early 1980s I had chosen a shortcut to secure employment in the public sector because it provided a potential to become wealthy instantly through illicit means of commissions, bribes and underhand deals at the expense of compromise on religious, ethical & national values, and of course on my job description i.e. quality of works as well as procurement of services & equipment.

But I proved to be a coward. I failed to seize the opportunities like many of us. I was not daring enough to be a hypocrite, to orate on honesty just after slipping black money into the briefcase. I must confess, however, that my sins and wrongdoings committed during the short span of my long service are much more than what I have done so far in the remainder life. I am still coward after 30 years, albeit being in much senior position I have more opportunities with almost safe environment to recover my previous “losses” and earn exponentially. In spite of open temptations, my resistance prevails and the scare also grows with the age and gets multiplied on account of my children being labeled as offspring of a corrupt officer and my heart & mind sink at the thought of accountability of my deeds on the Day of Judgment.

The trouble is that I want to stay clean but affluent as well. In the current scenario my colleagues are spending lavishly on daily life including; building their new houses, buying new cars, performing Umrah & Hajj and their children studying in expensive schools and are looking ahead targeting accomplishment of long term goals. On the other hand I stay focused on the salary day of the month to contemplate for a viable solution from the labyrinth of my existing woes; to clear short & long term debts, to pay schooling fees, clear dues of maidservant, milkman and buy monthly groceries, which too, never last more than a fortnight. The realization of life-long objectives like replacing 15 year old car with a new/reconditioned one, owning at least a 120 yard house, and on top of that, going for a Hajj pilgrimage with my better half looks a distant probability!

Believe me; it is hard to withstand the pressures and temptations of realizing personal desires & family goals, and expectations of colleagues & society to maintain living standards and keep on trying to elevate it. The pressures of raising the standards of living do not allow to even thinking of rolling back my status, to cut down on expanding expenditures.

Practically, it is simply impossible to live a life of the farmer and say: Mera bara sohna guzara hota hae!

Parents or Children!

May I ask; who do you love the most, parents or children?

Sounds a silly question! Isn’t it? The fact is; reply of this plainly asked question carries much complexity. Majority of people would like their answers as “both”; parents and children, because they never like to distinguish one from the other. Now if we zoom-in and take a look at the lives of people who answered as “both” it would be revealing that most of them are living with their children, not with the parents.

Some people argue that living away from the parents does not necessarily mean they do not love their parents. It’s just circumstances that dictate them where and how to live. For example; outstation job forces you to leave your parents. After getting married you prefer to take your spouse with you because it doesn’t require great deal of extra space and financial or other resources. On the other hand it becomes an uphill task to move your entire family i.e. parents and spouse to a new and temporary place in the vicinity of your workplace as many deterrents come into force instantly preventing you from taking such a decision, like refusal by parents (and siblings) to move, absence of large house, and limited salary, etc. The situation gets more intricate when one gets a job abroad for a prolonged period.

So, we conclude here that love for parents never diminishes even though one is not living with them!

Let me put up another question: who do you care the most; parents or wife/kids?

After frowning for a while over me your reaction would again be; both. Now if you take a moment to ponder over the facts that who have been living with you for long and who don’t you would arrive at a predictable answer.

 

Keeping the above questions aside there are some strong and real reasons which prove that as you grow old, get married and start raising your own family, your priorities shift from parents to children. In fact, while you are starting to raise/expand your family, your parents are usually in good health and they do not need much of your time and attention. But once they grow old and retired from jobs, they seek and deserve your attention and care. Though in many cases parents receive regular financial help from their offspring who do not live with them, their physical contact get irregular, infrequent, brief, hollow and emotionless; often limited to typical hello, hi, how’s life, and don’t worry mom/dad you are getting aged. Thus, love factor may stay beneath your heart and soul, care is certainly nowhere visible.

In modern times love and care are not merely feelings they are physical indicators of happiness.  Tell you what! The electronic advancement in telecom is responsible for heartbreak of many a parents. It has diminished the chance for parents to feel the presence of their offspring and has snatched the right to embrace them more often. On the contrary it is proving a blessing in disguise for children because they prefer to get in touch with their parents by audio and video means. The children are often found being rhetoric that they frequently call their parents and interact through video chatting and by doing so they try to portray their love and affection for them.

Strangely enough, parents always feel that children cannot live without them. This is partly true as long as children are dependent. Once grownup and start earning their own living, children become careless and ignorant about their parents. Once a humble, submissive and mannered son starts behaving rudely and argumentative in the first place, disobedience and arrogance comes next. Parents get hurt but remain silent most of the time, left shattered and crying inside.   

And then life takes a vicious but natural turn; children turn parents. Now they begin learning how parenthood is all about; feeding, cleaning up and changing pampers, waking up all night to soothe wildly crying babies. The nonstop care of their kids remind them how their parents must have gone through all these steps for them and made every effort to meet their unending needs and limitless desires. During all these years one only infrequently looks back to watch welfare of one’s parents and devote some quality time for them. The next generation is growing; it is demanding, need pocket money in plenty to fulfill the dreams at the tender age. These young people turn belligerent if not violent at the whim of any denial of their “right”.  At every quarrelsome argument his offspring come up with, the new parent remembers his own bad behaviors. At any disobedience he counts his own foul-language and misdemeanors with his parents. Heartbroken and snubbed at the hands of their children, the new parents look to redeem their mistakes by returning to their old parents but only a few succeed in finding them alive!

There are plenty of old and frail parents, sometimes single, living in large houses in our posh societies whose offspring have either emigrated or living separately. They are being taken care of by themselves or hired nurses instead of their children. They have lived their lives and are waiting impatiently to be lifted up to heavens. Ironically, their children also wish the same for them.

Blessed are those who still live within three generations i.e. with parents and their children and reap the prayers of all but unfortunately they are only a few lucky ones. Most of us, like me, just offer prayers at parents’ graves, though rarely too. 

Dual Nationality

This subject is talk of the nation in the recent months with Interior Minister labeled as “not a truthful” by the apex court because he hid his British nationality while contesting Senate elections some time ago. Under the Constitution of Pakistan, a dual national cannot hold a public office position. It is generally believed that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of such dual nationals holding public positions in this country. And a common question that everyone seeks a reply of is; are dual nationals really serving this country? There are plenty of arguments and counterarguments in favor of and against dual nationality vis-à-vis the service to Pakistan. The incumbent government, nevertheless, is in strong favor of dual nationals and considering seriously about bringing legislation through the parliament to allow its current ministers and other legislators to continue “serving” this country.

According to the statistics, Pakistan was 5^th largest remittances recipient country of the world in 2011. Therefore, this fact makes a strong argument in favor of dual nationals and on this input they consider themselves qualified to enjoying voting rights and holding public jobs. Let us take a deep look as to how Pakistan is able to receive high remittances every year.

Pakistan has a large labor force that works overseas predominantly in the Middle East whereas the rest is in Europe, North America and Far East. It earns billions of foreign exchange every year and this precious money makes way into Pakistan through legal and illegal means. The labor force in the Middle East comprising engineers, doctor, IT specialists, skilled and unskilled labor, is not dual national because of the main reason that the rich Arab States do not award nationality to aliens. They constitute unmarried young people whose families are in Pakistan and are a major source of high regular remittances to provide financial support to their families and utilization of surplus money into small businesses as well as investments in real estate.

Some moderately technical and less educated people also went to North America and Europe in 1960-70s for better living and prosperous future. Over the years they have earned the nationality and have settled down. They are mostly doing small businesses. Their newer generations, more educated, are in engaged in service sector too. The old generation still maintains ties with Pakistan and is also a source of some investments/remittances.

Another category of Pakistani origin people comprises of highly educated professionals like doctors, engineers, IT Specialists, etc. who through either scholarships, own expenses or government-funded loans completed their higher studies in Western countries, found lucrative jobs and settled down there, and hence qualified for the nationality of their new countries. These technocrats use green Passport during their infrequent visits to Pakistan because it saves them from hassle of obtaining visas, unrestricted stay and an elation to using it again through which they explored the new world, and climbed upon the ladder of career development. Perhaps it is the only time when they feel proud of Pakistan Passport. These people also contribute to the high remittance of foreign exchange as they support their families/parents back home in Pakistan and also invest their hard earned money in the real estate (believed to be the most lucrative investment that promises higher returns) and other businesses.

The people mentioned in the preceding three paragraphs neither involve themselves in the politics of their home country nor do they have time or resources for such an activity. Nevertheless, they keep themselves emotionally attached through communication means and/or watching satellite TV channels of their country of origin. Their hearts glow and gloom with news of prosperity and corruption. They rejoice the glory of cricket team and despair the frequent martial law. And they hope endlessly for rule of law, honest leadership and development on sustainable basis. Most of the aged and senior citizens wish to return back, at least for burial in their ancestral graveyards because they consider that there would be more people to visit their last abodes and offer prayers for them! They hardly bother if they are disallowed voting rights/holding public offices in their original country.

Yet there is another category of people, special people, comprising retired top bureaucrats/generals and politicians who plundered their country while holding important positions and transferred/laundered most of their black money into the Western countries. This looted wealth amounts in millions of US dollar and allows them to enjoy the unrestricted stay and often results in getting them nationality. These extremely rich dual nationals are true law abiding citizens in their adopted countries but they never restrict themselves from playing a nonstop dirty game in Pakistan. The unquenchable desire of having power, fame and wealth through corrupt and illegal means never subsides in them. These people are the worst affected ones from the existing constitutional law against dual nationality. Over the years Pakistan has been ruled by such people in violation of the law. The irony is that they openly confessed of having two simultaneous nationalities while in power and not even law courts could bar them from holding the highest public offices. They work against the clock; instead of remittances, they funnel out reasonable chunks of precious money to the West.

The bureaucrats and top ranked officers, with their dual nationality hidden and still ruling the country, are just waiting to rob as much as they can before retiring from jobs after reaching their superannuation age plus spending some more years as indispensable Advisors. When they come to a conclusion that they can no longer play with the diminishing resources they start leaving this country for the golden West by saying; Ye Mulk Kabhi Taraqqi Nahi Kar Sakta! (This country can never develop due to poor governance, corruption, illiteracy and terrorism!)

So where do we sum up? Apparently there is no serious issue in giving dual nationals the power to cast vote for national elections, however allowing them to contest elections would be wrong and unjustifiable. They are already under oath with the adopted countries that once needed they would fight for its rights and interests. Their loyalty already diluted between two countries with onus and priority going in favor of the new ones, therefore, dual nationals would in no way safeguard interests of their original country.

Perhaps, allowing dual nationals to bury their remains back in home country is already a great favor to them!

Beard

Our lecturer for Company Laws & Islamic Ethics during MBA Executive classes at IBA, Punjab University, Lahore, was totally unimpressive. Always wearing a skull cap, he had a long, multicoloured and thin beard, touching & intermingling with his upper stomach hair through the large cleavage between buttons of his white, thin/transparent & old “Malmal ka Kurta”. He would wear white shalwar with exposed ankles, and bathroom slippers (Hawai Chappal) in his feet. His heels were dark and cracked. Otherwise he was a good teacher with an excellent English accent.

Those who have studied Company Laws would agree that this is one of the few boring subjects that always compelled students to either yawn relentlessly or put their heads down on desks to enjoy short naps. Once during such a moment of dull class, one of us asked the teacher why he wears a long & unmanageable beard. His reply was interesting. He said:  

I was a clean shaved person and would dress up like most of you i.e. pants, shirt, tie etc., till just a few years back. My non-regular Namazi (Prayers offering) friends insisted me that since I was a regular Masjid-goer Namazi therefore I must look like a Namazi i.e. with a long beard and skull cap. Usually I laughed at this cap & beard idea but intrinsically I had a guilty conscious that if I have to follow the life of Muhammad (PBUH), I ought to put on beard. Eventually, I began to carry out research on this subject, and as I went deep into it, so did my resolve got firmer and stronger that I must wear beard. After having deciding in the favour of beard, I started growing it. My wife got furious over it and vowed that as a token of protest she would put on Burqa (fully covered hijab) when going outside and would remain under the complete veil unless he gave up growing beard. This was a blessing in disguise for me. Hence, I kept growing beard and my wife getting used to wearing a Burqa.

Listening to the teacher made us feel sorry for him and most of us in our late 30s and early 40s years of age had no immediate impact of his beard-growing story on any of the students.

Alhamdulillah I was a regular Namazi (but an infrequent Masjid-goer) but still liked to remain clean-shaved and the idea of putting on beard was simply out of the world thing. However, some years later, I began realizing that people around me at the work place treat me and pay respect according to the position I hold but they do not consider my age. This could have been owing to the reason that pace of career development like promotions in public organizations is too slow, therefore, one may feel oneself relatively senior with the passage of age and acquisition of experience but unless one holds a senior position the colleagues would not extend due respect. The experience of being not treated respectfully or less-respectfully was also evident from off-the-office activities and other gatherings.    

And then, one fine morning, I didn’t shave and wouldn’t shave in the next two weeks. Initially it looked awful and my colleagues laughed at me considering that he would shave it off soon. But as they made fun and laughed at me, my resolute kept getting stronger that come what may I was not going to shave it off anymore. After two weeks I went to the barber for giving my small beard a proper shape. He too looked at me smilingly but remained silent and started working on it. Once having completed his job the barber looked at me with a liking look in his eyes and said; congratulations for raising the beard and following the Sunnah of Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). I just smiled back to him thinking why he said about the Sunnah since purpose of my growing the beard was different from what he thought about.

Next day everyone started extending congratulations to me when they sensed that my beard is going to stay. My beard brought much-awaited due respect from everyone around but soon I realized that they were being over-respected as if I had suddenly grown into a senior citizen. The revelation of becoming a senior citizen at the age of 45 years turned into reality by the following incidence:

            I was standing in a queue to get my passport renewed. The queue was quite long. As I waited, a new queue was ordered to me formed for the old people aged 60 plus. Some old applicants left our queue and made a new formation. Hey you! What are you doing there? An old gentleman from the senior citizens’ queue yelled at me. It was shocking. Do I look like a senior citizen? I knew that my beard was grey but I was never ready to be taken into the category of old people. I turned down the offer politely but remained uneasy throughout the hours I spent at the passport office.

I knew that I had grown the small beard to earn much-deserved respect but people were having different meaning; the barber thought that I was following the Sunnah and old people considered me of their age group. Should I undo it to evade these misunderstandings?

It’s almost 8 years now since I raised the small beard. I couldn’t shave the beard off because the idea of removing it means I would not be having the identity, though the least one, of Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). The purpose of raising beard was different but undoing it meant a lot to me. I have never grown beard into a length of full fist that is largely considered as the minimum to be taken as per Sunnah requirements but maintaining a smaller one is also soothing and satisfying. Besides, it will be easier someday to grow beard into a bigger, thicker & longer one, and dying with it.

My Identity!

It is 1965; I am five and have just started going to school, a Sindhi medium, in a small town of Sindh province. I make many friends in the class; Muslim and Hindu. We live in a rented house. The adjacent large house belongs to a Hindu family. We live in complete harmony and visit each other’s houses, exchange food on Eids, Holi and Diwali. The war breaks out between Pakistan and India. I hear sporadic loud noise of air force planes flying overhead without spotting them and when siren cries out at a distance from our home alarming to hide Mommy runs to the outer gate to pull me inside. The war doesn’t cast any impact on our relations with Hindu neighbours and friends. During and after the war, we the pupils, at the assembly of school every morning sing the song whose first line is: Khitta-e-Lahore Tere Jan Nisaron Ko Salam (O land of Lahore! We salute all those who sacrifice their lives for you), and then chant slogans; Pakistan Zindabad, and Nara-e-Takbeer, Allah-O-Akbar.

At the age of five, I learn that I am a Pakistani and India is our enemy.

It is 1967; I am now in class three.  One day a vendor visits our classroom and sells Islamic single-page pamphlets on which Quranic Aayahs (Verses), Ahadees (sayings of Prophet Mohammad PBUH) and other relevant Islamic information is inscribed. I and a friend of mine choose the one which is in a shape of hand containing hundreds of names of prophets, caliphates, Sahaba (companions of Prophet Muhammad PBUH) and other Islamic personalities written on the palm and fingers of the hand.  We both buy it for showing to our respective parents with enthusiasm & pride. My mother cannot read but my father takes a deep look at it and asks me to keep this pamphlet safe from getting it desecrated. Next day my friend runs to me and enquires whether did I show it to my parents? I nod. Did they cut a piece out of it and throw it away as my father did?  And he shows me his pamphlet that has an almost rectangle cut in the center i.e. devoid of some names. I take out mine and compare the two and we find that three names have been omitted, the three caliphates; Hazrat Abu Bakar, Hazrat Umar and Hazrat Usman. He asks me to do the same with my pamphlet.  On returning home from the school I request my Dad to cut that piece of pamphlet carrying names of three caliphates. Who tells you to do that? Dad asks while looking perturbed? After listening to me, he asks me to sit down and tells me that you are not going to do it because we are Sunni and your friend is Shia.

At seven, I discover that I am a Sunni, and Muslims consist of two sects; Sunni and Shia.

It is 1968. I can read some basic Urdu now but cannot speak it. I can also identify English alphabets but cannot recite them in the order of their appearance, and able to read some proper nouns like names of cities and countries. Through my Social Studies and History (distorted) text books, I learn that Pakistan came into being in 1947 after a long struggle by Sub-Continent Muslim population. Pakistan in divided into two parts; West Pakistan (WP) and East Pakistan (EP). I live in West Pakistan which also governs East Pakistan, located about 1000 miles away from us. People in EP speak Bengali language, and EP is prone to frequent severe flooding and sea storms. I overhear sometimes father saying that living conditions in EP are not good, people are very poor, and that the rulers in WP are not doing enough to alleviate poverty in EP. During next summer season we go to visit Quetta, a hill station. This is my first ever travel in a train. I find the phrase “Pakistan Western Railways (PWR) quite fascinating, printed everywhere on the train. On a query Dad tells me that trains running in East Pakistan have the emblem Pakistan Eastern Railways (PER) printed on them. I wish to see it someday. I love the PWR abbreviation and it resides in my memory perpetually.

 I come to know that I live in West Pakistan and its other part is called East Pakistan.

December 1971; we are now living in larger town. We moved here in 1969 for secondary and onward education. Our neighbourhood mostly consists of Urdu speaking (Muhajir) families. I can speak Urdu fairly well now because I have developed friendship with many Muhajir boys and most of our leisure time is spent in going to cinema or flying kites. One fine morning when I go to school I find people digging trenches in our play ground. During the assembly, the headmaster informs us that we are at war with India and that whenever you hear sound of siren, run immediately to hide yourselves in trenches. However, the schools are closed for indefinite period. While the war is going on, I, along with my friends, enjoy holidays and love playing in the gardens. On hearing sound of siren we hide beneath Jamun (Blueberries), Amrood (Guava) & Mango trees and in trenches, and find these war times very thrilling.  We lose the war; East Pakistan gets independence and is named as Bangladesh. My dream of visiting EP and watching trains running with PER emblems gets shattered. Trains in Pakistan have new emblem i.e. Pakistan Railways (PR).

 I stop living in West Pakistan. East Pakistan ceases to exist. It is just Pakistan now.

Somewhere in the middle of 1973; ethnic riots erupt and grip the whole Sindh as a result of scuffle between Sindhi and Muhajir students in Sindh University. The riots continue for several days during which incidents of murders, arson, looting, etc., take place across the province. Government declares curfew in the cities and towns to control the situation. Curfew is quite exciting.  We come out and play in the streets till a police van appears and makes us run to our respective homes. I am still living in the same neighbourhood and enjoying the company of same friends.

 I am forced to believe that I am Sindhi. I am Pakistani at school morning assembly only.

It is 1975; we, the children of neighbourhood, like to play hide & seek in the late nights, especially during the month of Ramadhan. One such night two of us run to find a suitable place to hide. My friend takes me into a house that has a large hall. I ask him curiously whose house is this and where are the inmates of this house! He corrects me and says it is not a house, it is a mosque. Finding me bewildered, he quickly adds that this Masjid belongs to Ahle Hadees; these places are hard to be recognized from outside due to their simplicity. Interior is also kept simple.  A few days later, I come to know that Ahle Hadees, also called Wahabi, is a faction of Sunni Muslims.

 As I grow, so does my painful knowledge about more divisions of Muslim.

Time goes by; it is now 1979. I am studying engineering in Karachi and live in a hostel. I make many friends in Karachi; all happen to be non-Sindhi i.e. with their mother tongues other than Sindhi. Once I come to know that one of my friends is Qadiyani or Ahmadi. Regardless of this revelation I continue to enjoy friendship with him but remain curious without daring to ask a direct question why he is Qadiyani!

Qadiyani sect is decreed non-Muslim in Pakistan.

1980; one of my hostel-mates persuades me to accompany him to Madani Masjid for attending a lecture on Islam. Once on a weekend evening I accompany him to visit the said Mosque, and participate in a weekly “Tableegi Ijitama (Preachers’ Gathering)” from Maghrib to Isha prayers. I was aware of Tableegis (preachers) from the childhood when they, in a group of 6 to 10, used to knock on the door and extend an invitation for offering joint prayers (Namaz) in the nearby mosque and sparing a few days to go on preaching with them but this time visiting their place of stronghold in an entirely new experience. At the gathering my friend and others keep convincing me that by joining hands with them would help me become a better Muslim in this world and would be benefited hereafter. A month later I again accompany my friend to a 3-day Tableegi Ijtama (Gathering). While my companions consider me as their potential member, I am hardly ready at the young age to accept spirituality of such gathering.

 

Here comes a new Sub-faction of Sunni Muslims; Devbandi (Tableegi).

It is 1983; I am in Lahore to begin my career in a public organization. I stay temporarily with a senior colleague in Krishna Nagar. I start noticing that the call for Namaz from a nearby mosque is delivered with some added phrases at the beginning of Azan. Offering prayers in that mosque also brings new experience as it offers some formalities (Aadaab) before and after the Namaz with emphasis on reciting Durood Sharif (praise for Mohammad, PBUH) repeatedly. Inquisition into it reveals that this mosque belongs to Brelvi sub-faction of Sunni Muslims.

Yet another sub-faction of Sunni Muslims; this time it is called “Brelvi”.

        

Thus, at the age of 23 when I have just stepped into practical life I have been exposed to various experiences of nationalism and Islamism which leaves me at the crossroads; Pakistani first or Muslim first, Sindhi first or Pakistani first, Sunni first or Muslim first, and if Sunni; Devbandi, Wahabi or Brelvi! Every faction tries to pull me with the premise and promise that it is the only way to salvation. Like me, every new adult undergoes serious infighting within himself pondering which side to go with.

I am 50 plus now; an enthusiastic Pakistani from the childhood saw his identity getting diluted as he grew old. Introduction to various sects and factions of Islam during first 25 years of my life amid atmosphere of rising ethnicity coupled with injustice, corruption, kidnapping for ransom and crime shook up my heart and mind badly. Next 25 years saw sectarian and ethnic issues getting more complex than easing out. Once a peaceful and tolerant society where mutual respect and application of restraint in any undesirable situation was largely prevalent has changed drastically into a disrespectful and hostile environment. People can no more absorb the trouble, stress and frustration and flare up at a small pretext leading to killing or getting killed. The term disliking is becoming obsolete and being replaced with hatred. The society has fragmented on the basis of ethnicity and religious sects & factions. Its collapse is evident from the emergence of new sects and factions sprouting out from time to time across the country and gaining popularity as well.

Moreover, violent protest rallies, damage to public & private property, arson, murder, and ethnic & sectarian cleansing through suicide bomb blasts & targeted killings are everyday affair. The conditions have deteriorated rapidly in the post 9/11 era leading to extremist thoughts and vengeance-like behaviours. We take pleasure in nurturing religious zealots, ignore kidnapping for ransom, feel proud in plundering the national wealth, numb on honour killings & acid attacks on women, shameless in encouraging extortion, blind on crime & corruption, enjoy hypocrisy, and backbiting being our best pastime.

Where do I stand now? Am I a proud Pakistani? Well, it’s a matter of feeling and pragmatism; the emotions keep me tied down to patriotism come what may but in cogent terms I am not only reluctant but nonassertive too. Waving national flag has turned symbolic and that too on celebration of Independence Day only, or sometimes, during winning a cricket match against India. There can’t be nastiest definition of patriotism in Pakistan than being labeled as a patriotic Pakistani only when you are either anti-Indian or to some extent anti-American. 

So, where is the ray of hope? Perhaps, divine help is needed to turn the tide. The nation looks to the heavens for a messiah.