The OBL Episode

The last couple of days have been eventfully immense. The guy who figured central in the security turnarounds in Afghanistan and Pakistan for the last 20 years or so, someone been dubbed as the most wanted person to the USA, the enigma called Osama Bin Laden is said to be killed and ‘taken out’ from a house in Abbottabad in a Sting operation conducted by the US Army. The US civilian and military leadership pronounced the news to be a great victory and ‘justice’ to the victims of the twin towers in New York. The US military took all the credit of the operation terming it their own and that they were in surveillance of the hideout for quite some time.

The details of the event as they poured in and swelled through the idiot boxes in Pakistan, made the masses bamboozled much like Osama did the world media and leadership at large. Our ‘democratic’ and military leadership were caught unawares leading the former, the PM of Pakistan to issue an abrupt statement much in the tone of Obama.

The military are still keeping mum as to what exactly transpired. The significance of the event is such that the Pakistan Army might find itself between a rock and hard place. If it confesses a role in the operation, it in effect invites the wrath of a wounded enemy; if it denies an involvement, serious questions arise over its ability to defend the national borders.

The operation itself looks dubious. The haste it involved, the city the location and the very presence of the person who suffered renal failures almost a decade ago. Somebody told this scribe that Osama had a dialysis session at the CMH Rawalpindi in the late nineties and that he was gifted a dialysis machine by the hospital administration. How on earth could an aged dialysis patient survive without constantly been treated, especially when no such equipment was found in the house that is said to have been constantly monitored and whose inhabitants are said to be aloof and isolated? Why such haste to dispose the body of the most wanted criminal on earth? And why the waters when he could be showcased to the world for the fate he met? The more one probes the matter the more deceitful the story appears. We haven’t yet forgotten Donald Rumsfeld’s confession of the false grounds Iraq was invaded on.

However twisted the story seems, the US of A delivered a decisive punch to floor an ‘ally’. The points it aimed to score are;

  • To send a message that it can strike anyone, anytime and anywhere
  • To salvage something of a war it is finding hard to win
  • To keep its ‘strategic partner’ under pressure to ‘do more’
  • To legitimize its claims of a ‘double-game’ the Pakistani spy agencies play
  • To further alienate the Pakistani masses from an erstwhile trusted Army
  • To legitimize drone insertions

These are tricky times for an energy short, ill governed Pakistan. The confidence of the people ever dwindles. The civil and military leadership need to come out firm and erase the layers of ambiguity around this whole OBL episode. We could always start afresh if the sincerity and will is there.

Advertisements

Random Thoughts

Floods: They have wrecked the body structure of Pakistan. Starting from the mountains in the north in KPK and protracting through the plains of southern Punjab to Sind and Baluchistan. The waters were never so high and never so wide to sweep along high buildings, bridges, houses, crops, cattle and most of all precious human lives. The dent to the infrastructure is immense. The misery of millions of our folks is heart-wrenching. People are starved of food, bereft of shelter and exposed to water rife in epidemics. What they need now is the support of us all spared by the calamity. The magnitude of the disaster makes it our obligation to try and restore the lives, pride and dignity of our people in troubled waters.

Altaf bhai: As if we were short of the disasters, bhai saab wants us to be hit by another. In his recent signature telephonic sermon the moron politician invited ‘the patriots’ in military to come forth and take over the reins of this ill-governed state (of the government he himself is a part). He acts crocodile when says he is moved by the cause of the flood-stricken – advocating the cause in his cozy London flate where he’s glued from eternity come hell or high water. And more so, his proposed military takeover to him is neither a martial law nor something unconstitutional – a marriage of both amid the larger national tragedy. He wants chaos, utter chaos!

Spot-Fixing: Let us not bash them left right and center. Let us not propose punishments. It is pre-mature. The allegations are still to be proved. Till whatever comes this latest scandal of spot-fixing by some of the Pakistan cricketers is damaging with a potential to taint the very image of Pakistan and its cricket beyond redemption. Controversies of one or the other kind has been a regular feature on the Pakistan English tours throughout history. The English media is always on a lookout to malign the gifted players from our part of the world. This is not to say our cricketers are innocent. There is a possibility of black sheep everywhere. But they ought not to be considered guilty until proved so. I feel for Aamir. He is too young, too talented to lose his reputation and career in the nasty business of match or spot-fixing. I wish he’s not the culprit!

The Dual Challenge — A Repost

Below here is the repost of a poem I wrote sometimes back. It has become quite a norm when we celebrate the independence of Pakistan amid the perils to the very unity of our dear homeland courtesy a plethora of internal and external threats. Yet our hopes remain intact to see the vibes of passion and love oozing out of a common Pakistani for his/her country, every year on the 14 of August. This year too is no different; while we’ve largely succeeded in flushing out the nuisance of Talibanisation, we are yet to bring to the fold the fringe elements in Baluchistan. If cured with sincerity the ailments to our unity can be treated with the remedy of ‘the just distribution of revenue as per the sources of production in a Federating unit’. Though it would be naive to look at the scenario in total black and white, yet our history is replete with instances of troubles emerging out of the poor distribution of wealth. Its the cry of the time not to repeat the blunders we’ve made in the past, for they become history who don’t learn a thing from the history itself.

مرے خدا مجھے اتنا تو معتبر کردے

میں جس مکان میں رہتاہوں اس کو گھر کردے

Happy Independence Day To The Nation Pakistan! 🙂

A Dual Challenge:

The honest toilers; our ancestors,
collected the stones thrown at them,
and the mud slung at them, to build a house.
They mixed the ingredients with their
sweat and their blood; the color of love
To make it a home.

A few seeds of mistrust evolved into trees of
contempt in the hearts of the second generation.
And with the help of neighbors
they themselves erected a wall of separation.

The nameplate of my home which used to
read, ‘unity’ is rusted and withered since long.
Suspicion crept into our yard and settled
in every corner of the square as if
measuring a division.

I can hear the footsteps of aliens fast
approaching our home, and I’m faced
with a dual challenge; of repairing the
storm lashed doors and of wiping all
the germs of contempt.

I’ll keep the forces of ‘division’ at bay
‘Its a negative process’ said a mathematician.

The Glory Is Just One Step Away ..

105045.2We are bruised by internal strifes. We are down with the nuisance of militancy. But we are rising somewhere else, on the horizon of World Cricket. The world is looking at us with awe, with wonder. We are about to dazzle their eyes with the flashes of our talent. We’re about to lift the coveted trophy of the ICC World Twenty20, 2009; we are just one game away. a mere single game.

What we did last night was a proof of our capabilities. It was a slap on the faces of our detractors who wanted to close the doors of world cricket upon us. We were isolated. We were pushed to the corner. What we did last night just was a fitting response from the cornered tigers.

We are one game away and we need it the most. Our nation deserves it the most.

Come on, Afridi, Gul, Saeed, Akmal and all!

Just don’t let your desire fall!

Come bring the glory home

Which will roam

In the poisoned body

Of our ailing populace

To intoxicate

Like a panacea does ..

P.S: Picture courtesy http://www.cricinfo.com

Update: We’ve done it! We’ve just done it! We’re on top of the world in Twenty20 cricket! Our boys’ve made us proud! We’re the champs!

Welldone team Pakistan! Welldone boom boom Afridi! Thanx for the smiles you brought on to so many agrieved faces in Pakistan! Thanx for giving us the present of the world Twenty20 trophy! Pakistan Zindabad!



The IDP’s Of Swat And Buner

Ignominy pulled the chaddars
of the heads of their womenfolk
and indignity handed begging bowls
to the men once very esteemed.
Their children flash on our tv screens
like stars but they are meteors of irony.

The protection of their homes
sulked into illusion for no fault of theirs
as they stumble upon mirage after mirage
getting hurt in the process.

The piercing holes of bullets in their souls
are beyond the therapeutic agents
but their bodies could surely be saved
from the sharpened jaws of the apocalypse.

Let they not be consumed by strife,
chasing the humans like a beast on pursuit
for we may well be the next
if it fancied the human blood.

Internally Displaced In The War On Terror

Our house, the mixture of
mud and stones,
was feeble, yet it homed
our aspirations
in all the moods of life;
when the sun smiled,
or the clouds roared,
or the sky wept
or the winds howled.

It didn’t crumbled
with natural blows
but the man-made woes,
in the shape of shells
of metal and mortar
that over it fell
it could shield us no more

Survival took us by the hand
to a refugee camp and we
were stamped as I.D.P’s.

Our dreams, inhumed in
our rubbled home, scream
to call us back; they cry
when we beg for the bits of life.

We cannot wait to redeem
ourselves by helping our home
to stand on its feet.
We pray for the beast of
violence to retreat.

The wounds of our soul
could only be healed
with the cure of peace
in our bruised Swat.

Mother Of A Missing Son

The post 9/11 Musharraf era in Pakistan saw an unprecedented rise in hand overs of Pakistani citizens to US investigative agencies by our own government on the pretext of cooperating with the world against terrorism, which to many, in fact, was a move to earn monitory gains on part of the government at the expense of the poor citizens keeping in view the procedure the government adopted for the purpose. Most the missing persons were abducted and handed over by the secret agencies without being trialled in any of the country’s courts. Their near and dear ones were kept completely ignorant about their faults or their whereabouts, for that matter. There still are hundreds of families trying to locate their missing ones but the chances of their success look very bleak especially in the current scenario when an illegitimate judiciary is a the helm. The deposed Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry surely was a whiff of fresh air for the troubled families, who initiated sue moto actions to investigate the cases of illegal hand overs; an action which most probably led to his sacking by the all powerful Musharraf.

The poem below is a description of an old woman who lost her son in the above-mentioned circumstances.

Her eyes, ever-awake in wait,
to reflect a certain image,
lost its sheen
and turned into stones
which sprout tears
that never cease to
roll down her wrinkled cheeks.

Her arms tremble with the
burden of age, remain stretched
to embrace the missing part
of her existence.

Her heart ails with the fear
that she will be sent
on the journey of eternity
without someone to console
through goodbye whispers.

How long will she catch
the glimpses of a mirage
but her dear son?
How long an empty bosom
will mock her futile hopes?

Hope, the shine of her eyes
will rise like a new dawn
to soothe her weary self
right till she breathes her last.
Hope, she will never depart
with a heavy heart.