Tag Archives: poor

Why Doesn’t the Government Care?

Over thousands of Pakistanis have been killed in between 2012-13. The government persists, the situation persists. People are still afraid for their lives when they go out. The government is still devouring cash for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Why haven’t we been able to capture these terrorists? Why is it that they can contact the government and the media, but when it comes to tracing their calls the government reaches a dead end? Why is it that the government spends its time and energy in banning a website in light of the blasphemy law, but chooses to ignore the immoral, gut-wrenching acts taking place in front of their very eyes?

Why does that government, which has given us Pakistanis nothing at all except tears and hardships, stand a chance to be re-elected in May? Why, after all this, do Pakistanis not understand that the future of Pakistan is in their hands?

Why is it that while people continue to die from poverty, the elite continue to multiply their resources? All these why’s need an answer. And the answer to this is simple: the government doesn’t care.

You took a criminal out of jail, and placed him at the highest position. You gave him access to the country’s resources, and you gave him the right to control your lives. You knew this would happen the day his government came. After all, what does a child do when you give him his favourite candy?

In a few months, the government will be gone. We hope that it is true, and they know that they will be gone. They continue to celebrate their last few weeks unabashedly, behaving as if they’re leaving behind a healthy and prosperous Pakistan.

But there’s a reason why they are happy. In this five year tenure, they have managed to rip open Pakistan and rattle every bone of her’s. They know that, even once they leave, they have left plenty of their own progeny to continue what they had once started. They know that even if they will not be the masters, they have way too many sources deep down to feel at discomfort with any ruler who may come.

Pakistan is officially going through the worst period in it's history

Pakistan is corrupt. Morally, socially, religiously, economically corrupt. It is a fact, and we cannot deny it. Removing the government will do no good, because the corruption has slithered into the masses and is throbbing in the veins of the general public.

We need money, we embezzle. We want a new car, we go harrass a factory owner to give us a bribe (bhatta). We don’t like other religions, we blame them for committing blaspemy. We don’t like other sects, we kill them. Oh, yes. We Pakistanis have a solution for every problem of ours.  

What we don’t do, is work. What we don’t know is how to rid ourselves of this monstrous being that has settled itself amongst us. Are we ever going to be normal again?

It will not take a change of government. It requires a change of priorities. People are dying, and the government is worried about changing the name of the province Sind to Sindh. Children roam about hungrily on the streets, and they are signing papers to begin the construction of the tallest building.

Where is your humanity? Have you become so corrupt and dissolute that it all simply bounces off you? Can you not understand the pain of a mother holding the dead body of her child, begging you for mercy? Do you not see the hundreds of people deprived of a normal life because they were the victims of terrorism? Do you not know that you’re going to have to face God one day?

President Zardari, I do not care what you do after this tenure ends. But right now, since you’re sitting foolishly on our heads, I plead you to see our stance. Imagine if it was you holding Bilawal’s or Asifa’s dead body. Would you, or would you not want to get hold of their murderers? Would you not try to get justice?

Please stop having these closed-door meetings and making nonsensical decisions. What more must happen for you to appoint the Army to take control of Quetta? You have failed miserably in doing anything for Pakistan. Before going, just give us this one demand of ours.

Or are you, too, against the Hazara’s because they’re Shia? Against Ahmedis because of their belief?

I’m sorry, but you’re officially the worst thing that has happened to Pakistan in these 65 years.

I’m  just glad I believe in karma, and leave the rest to God.


A Day Like Any Other.

I know the kind of reaction I would have gotten once you read the title. Why, oh why, would you want to read about a regular day in my life. I know, it sounds so silly.

Which is why, I would never put you through the torture of listening to my ongoing complaints.

What I’m really going to do, however, is take you through a day in the life of young Zarina.

Meet Zarina. Zarina is five years old, and she lives on the streets in Karachi. Every day, she gets up at six in the morning, to be picked up by a mean driver who drops off little beggars all over the city. Zarina carries a little pocket-mirror with her, which helps her ensure that she has dressed suitably enough. Picking up some sand from her surroundings, Zarina hurriedly rubs it across her face. She knows that doing that will cause pimples later, but that would only add to the appearance. Zarina has now achieved the look that would cause a number of hearts to melt, encouraging them to drop a 10-rupee note into her bare hands.

After Zarina has tapped on every car’s window that came to shop at Gulf Way, and collected a sum of about thousand rupees, she is picked up by the same mean driver. The driver collects the money from Zarina, and pockets it, while Zarina looks sadly at the money she had collected. In return, the mean driver bangs Zarina’s head against the dashboard and gives her a grubby twenty-rupee note to buy herself lunch and dinner for that day. Meanwhile, in his head, he is imagining where he was going to take his family out for dinner today.

After Zarina is dropped off at the house, the run-down house she lives in with many others like her, the driver gives his boss two-hundred rupees, saying that Zarina did not earn well that day. Zarina stares open-mouthed at him, but does not say anything. She knows what the outcome will be. She will be taken into that room, that dark, dark room, and beaten until she can’t breathe. Then he will stop, flex his arms, and beat her some more. Zarina would cry herself to sleep that night.

The next morning, she would wake up to face all that again. Zarina doesn’t want to, but for her, there seems to be no other way. For her, that monster is like heaven, her saviour. He provides her with shelter, food and clothes. Zarina couldn
t dare to leave such a place. Getting beaten everyday seems like a little price to pay for all that.

Zarina needs to know that there are other options. The beggars on our windows, the ones who irk us so easily, they at times are way better off than us. If a rich, educated person cannot work to bring a child out of their misery, then who can?

Who then, deserves to be called literate?

Think. Are we really that developed a country as we claim to be? Is this what humanity is about?

Two minutes. That’s all it takes.