What are the real issues?
Can’t the president of Pakistan at least provide board and lodging? His late wife certainly would have.
Karachi probably holds the world record for the number of honorary consuls-general and consuls who, collectively, flash a badge for every square inch of territory in Africa, Asia, Central and South America and Europe which is not represented by the foreign office at home. Fortunately, Antarctica has been spared as none of the local businessmen have learned to communicate with the penguins, and so one less flag will flutter in the hot desert wind.
At a recent reception hosted by one of these honorary consuls, who represents a country whose entire population could fit into the space between the Buffer Zone and the twittering suburb of Sohrab Goth, the host collared this writer and admonished him for the desultory tone of articles written by local journalists.
“Why can’t you guys be positive for a change and write about the real issues facing the country, like building up foreign exchange reserves, increasing exports, introducing information technology in schools and creating jobs for unemployed youth, instead of having a go at the government?” According to the host, local journalists believe all businessmen are pantomimically bad, politicians remorsely duplicitous, industrialists cunningly psychotic and agriculturists, stupid, short-sighted and venal.
After listening to the denouement one did ponder over what had been said and wondered if these were the real issues. The city’s bourgeoisie obviously has a very different idea of what constitutes progress in a backward country. Achievement is invariably measured in fiscal and not in moral terms; in degrees of conspicuous consumption and not in how people occupy their leisure hours; in how much wealth one accumulates and not in terms of whether there is a rule of law and whether the poor have access to the halls of justice.
This writer is reminded of a programme he saw recently on television which, in a sense, illustrates what he is trying to convey. On a gusty, windy evening common in Lahore, the quintessential modern Pakistani female, scarf-in-the-breeze, microphone in hand breathlessly asks a female visitor from Karachi if she had come across any good joras or pieces of jewellery while shopping in Gulberg.
Of course, one didn’t quite expect her to ask the visitor what she thought of Ulysses and Molly Bloom, publicly raking her unpunctuative consciousness in the most wicked passage in English literature. But she could have at least asked if she had been to the Lahore museum or an art gallery or read any good books recently.
In a section of the press there was a news item about the chief minister of Sindh agreeing to set up a crack, sophisticated police force to guard VIPs and politicians. And in the same newspaper, tucked away in one corner in the inside pages, there was the heart wrenching story of poor Dhani Bux Baloch of Shikarpur whose 16-year old daughter was allegedly murdered a year ago in her father’s presence by her husband.
An FIR was registered but no arrests had been made because, as Dhani Bux Baloch maintains, the husband is what is commonly referred to as a ‘feudal.’ The case is now before the Supreme Court where he will certainly obtain justice. Meanwhile the poor peasant and his family sleep on the floor of a hospital as they cannot afford any other accommodation. Can’t the president of Pakistan at least provide board and lodging? His late wife certainly would have.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 8th, 2010.
At a recent reception hosted by one of these honorary consuls, who represents a country whose entire population could fit into the space between the Buffer Zone and the twittering suburb of Sohrab Goth, the host collared this writer and admonished him for the desultory tone of articles written by local journalists.
“Why can’t you guys be positive for a change and write about the real issues facing the country, like building up foreign exchange reserves, increasing exports, introducing information technology in schools and creating jobs for unemployed youth, instead of having a go at the government?” According to the host, local journalists believe all businessmen are pantomimically bad, politicians remorsely duplicitous, industrialists cunningly psychotic and agriculturists, stupid, short-sighted and venal.
After listening to the denouement one did ponder over what had been said and wondered if these were the real issues. The city’s bourgeoisie obviously has a very different idea of what constitutes progress in a backward country. Achievement is invariably measured in fiscal and not in moral terms; in degrees of conspicuous consumption and not in how people occupy their leisure hours; in how much wealth one accumulates and not in terms of whether there is a rule of law and whether the poor have access to the halls of justice.
This writer is reminded of a programme he saw recently on television which, in a sense, illustrates what he is trying to convey. On a gusty, windy evening common in Lahore, the quintessential modern Pakistani female, scarf-in-the-breeze, microphone in hand breathlessly asks a female visitor from Karachi if she had come across any good joras or pieces of jewellery while shopping in Gulberg.
Of course, one didn’t quite expect her to ask the visitor what she thought of Ulysses and Molly Bloom, publicly raking her unpunctuative consciousness in the most wicked passage in English literature. But she could have at least asked if she had been to the Lahore museum or an art gallery or read any good books recently.
In a section of the press there was a news item about the chief minister of Sindh agreeing to set up a crack, sophisticated police force to guard VIPs and politicians. And in the same newspaper, tucked away in one corner in the inside pages, there was the heart wrenching story of poor Dhani Bux Baloch of Shikarpur whose 16-year old daughter was allegedly murdered a year ago in her father’s presence by her husband.
An FIR was registered but no arrests had been made because, as Dhani Bux Baloch maintains, the husband is what is commonly referred to as a ‘feudal.’ The case is now before the Supreme Court where he will certainly obtain justice. Meanwhile the poor peasant and his family sleep on the floor of a hospital as they cannot afford any other accommodation. Can’t the president of Pakistan at least provide board and lodging? His late wife certainly would have.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 8th, 2010.