Tallat Azim
On your birthday dear Quaid,
I do not know what to give you,
No words suit the occasion,
Nor can I look you in the eye,
No bouquets or candles,
Can ever make-up,
For the guilt of plundering,
The country,
Of your dreams,
No praise or flowery language,
Can ever atone,
Of pursuing for years,
Only selfish schemes,
Do not ask my Quaid,
How we have come to this pass,
Of what happened to our ideals, our values, alas!
On your birthday dear Quaid,
I do not know what to give you,
No words suit the occasion,
Nor can I look you in the eye.
I wrote this poem in December 1986. That was in the heydays of Ziaul Haq. Twenty-four years on, while we have an elected government and Parliament in place, it holds true more than ever.
Jinnah’s Pakistan was conceived as a progressive, democratic country, free of dogmas and doctrines, an equal opportunity provider to people with merit, irrespective of their religious beliefs, gender and social status. Compare that to what we have. The exact opposite. Jinnah’s Pakistan could not have imagined that Muharram processions would have to be guarded with extreme vigilance.
Jinnah’s Pakistan had no room for women being shot dead by their husbands, a few days after being married, because they did not bring cars in their dowries. The dream of Pakistan did not include two sets of educational systems or two sets of laws.
Jinnah’s Pakistan did not imagine that the Pakistan army would be its only most powerful institution, which would be a stumbling block in the way of many progressive ideas and which would continue to pull strings from behind the scenes when not in actual power.
What was supposed to have been the strongest signal of Pakistan, its moral fibre, is its weakest. While we almost top the list for the most corrupt nations of the world, there is also the strange paradox of being among the highest to make charitable donations. It is almost as if we were trying to offer commissions to Allah - as that are a way of life - to balance our abysmal report card and look the other way. The decline in the moral fibre is also evident from the daily depressing stories of gang rapes in cities, even of minor girls. Jinnah’s Pakistan did not visualise sycophancy as being the key to achieving success. (The eulogising of the President in the national press by Sharmila Farouki, an advisor to CM Sindh, is one such glaring example of overkill!) I would like to remind Ms Farouki that it is the common man who is supposed to eulogise, but all he is doing, when not trying to commit suicide, is trying to sustain body and soul in the face of the most daunting circumstances.