While my heart craves for the birth of intellect among the masses as well as the ability to guide them into a better and enlightened collective force by their leaders, my mind often considers it is all in vain.
For how can a nation entrenched within the confines of a regressing religion lift itself from the depths of ignorance and venture towards the height of knowledge and awareness.
A nation devoid of all sensibilities as a human race; a nation concerned with only the base instincts of filling its belly with food and satisfying its beastly urges has nothing but bleakness to look forward to. Indeed, it is their destiny to not even know their human side, for there is no will to even search for it.
The desire to find that candle within was smothered long ago, and can not be rekindled as it is deeply rooted within the lock and barred castle of a barbaric religion.
Once again it keeps the urge to evolve into something better in check. Divinity again blocks vision and holds the reigns of imagination.
But then again my hearts craving cannot be ignored.
Would it be a belief in the divinity of man himself if one hopes for a leader who awakens the winged and boundless horse of knowledge in the hearts of the wretched souls living barely on the edge of humanity?
The nameplate issue has been doing rounds with the WWF as well as the OXFAM apologising to the oil rich donors of fundamentalists, namely the Saudis since the UN climate summit. However, in this hullabaloo what was forgotten was that the Saudis are opposed to taking strict action against carbon emissions and switching to renewable energy.
They have been doing so since long and checking results of some previous meetings would prove so. Ahead of the December meeting in Copenhagen the Saudis had stolen some emails of British climate researchers to cast doubts on the authenticity of the human factor involved in global warming. Later on they had claimed there was no need to reach an agreement regarding any reduction in emissions.
Moreover, this time around the Saudis felt threatened by the climate talks, terming them biased against oil. Nobody needs to second guess as to why they do not want to support action against carbon emissions. They have oil to last another hundred years or more, and therefore it means they have liquid gold, which they plan to cash even if it is going to put millions of lives and the whole eco-system at risk. And in this they are not alone, flanked by their buddy the US of A, who has been diverging from cutting its greenhouse gases and other oil rich countries, the attention of the international community has been successfully diverted from the issue at hand to a totally nonsensical issue of a flag in a loo.
Who was actually involved behind setting up the stage for this charade is a question mark. Nonetheless, as far as I am concerned, the outdated Saudi flag with a sword could be thrown in the loo a million more times and pee’d on for what they have done to my country by funding terrorist activities here.
As a nation we beg from the international community, and to make the public get used to the idea, we sanction programmes such as the Benazir Income Support Programme started by the Sindh government, or some Langar (free food) programmes which the Punjab government has initiated along with the Sasti Roti scheme to relieve the poor. Moreover, in Karachi an organisation called the Saylani Welfare Trust provides free food to the passersby that include people who work as taxi drivers, rickshaw drivers, scavengers and so on. It is a never ending list of people taking advantage from this free food programme, with stalls all over the city, at public hospitals, roundabouts, signals etc.
According to Jan Muhammad, he has stopped using his own money to buy food. “When they are providing me with free food, why should I spend money?” he asks with amazement in his eyes. On the other hand a taxi driver feels offended with the whole idea. “I buy a plate of daal and roti everyday, along with a cup of tea. It costs me Rs 50, if I had chicken the amount would be Rs 100. But I would rather eat daal then go ahead and eat the mutton provided by Saylani,” he proudly reveals.
Another man said that this is the government’s plan to desensitise us towards their growing loans they take from the United States or the World Bank or IMF. It has been a general attitude by the Pakistan People’s Party to buy people with cheap gimmicks. Instead of subsidising basic necessities and making tax recovery their priority, they take loans, reason being that they would be the first one’s who would have to pay the highest taxes. Therefore, taking loans is a better option as it fills their pockets rather then paying, which would reduce their wealth.
An owner of even a small organisation understands that he cannot spend more then what he earns, moreover even a schoolboy knows he cannot spend more then his pocket money; but unfortunately people at the helm of Pakistan’s financial affairs have not learned this. Perhaps they need to be taught through simulation games like Sim City, Age of Empires and Stronghold where the coffers of a state are constantly filled with taxes in order to provide the civilians with facilities.
Karachi being the biggest city of Pakistan currently has around 18 million residents as per unofficial statistics and still increasing as there is no check on the number of immigrants each year. From 6 million immigrants who came to Pakistan in 1947, 2 million Afghan refugees, illegal Bangladeshis and Biharis who came after the fall of Dhaka and millions of local immigrants from rural or less developed areas, the city is suffering from a severe shortage of proper or legal housing facilities, and around 50% dwell in slums or squatter settlements.
Distinguishing between the types of katchi abadies would be important here, as there is not just a single type. These abadies can broadly be divided into two categories; the old totally unplanned abadies that were established at the time of the Indo-Pak partition and the ones that came into existence because land-grabbers mobilised and provided houses to the constantly rising number of immigrants, especially with a boom in the Industries. After partition the government was not equipped to deal with the immigrants and hence and therefore people on self help basis provided themselves with whatever they could muster. However, instead addressing the issue, the government continued to neglect this sector and also neither checked the rapid rural to urban migration nor provided enough housing facilities. Thus, government negligence towards this factor, combined with the land-grabbers has not helped much, as land-grabbers taking advantage continuously kept on the move, grabbing more and more government land turning it to slums/katchi abadies.
The desperate immigrants on the other hand, who come looking for a place to live, find these katchi abadies to be the best solution for them. They are comparatively cheap, and more importantly can be found close to wherever they work and that too without paperwork. At places the encroached houses would be almost cantilevered above the Lyari River, with their foundations sunk deep in the sewage water, but this does not deter someone set on making it work no matter what the circumstances.
The situation instead of getting better has worsened as the government being merely disinterested in addressing the root cause, regularised these settlements, giving more incentive to the land-grabbers. If this regularisation process had just been followed by the provision of sufficient low-income houses as well as a check on rural to urban migration, perhaps it would have been better, but since it was not so, encroachments continued.
Moreover, involvement of political parties like MQM and PPP did not help much either, who instead of finding a true solution wanted to keep the people in the same conditions for either appeasing them to retain their vote banks or to keep them deprived of a better infrastructure and environment.
According to the Orangi Pilot Projects survey, conducted in 2002, the total number of katchi abadies was 539, whereas a news report dated June 27, 2010 claims, “There are around 1,293 spatial settlements, out of which the Sindh Katchi Abadi Authority has regularised only 500, while the remaining are being processed for regularisation.”
As a nation it appears we have a penchant for short term answers. We accept the government’s shortcomings and give it leeway to implement such short sighted solutions. There are several reasons for referring to the regularisation of katchi abadies as short term, foremost being that these katchi abadies are hubs for several illegal activities, starting from smuggling of something as mundane as cloth to drugs and ammunition. The abadies are nurseries for most criminal gangs and activities, since hiding in the criss-crossed lanes is not difficult. Also worth mentioning are the terrorists, who were arrested from several katchi abadies over the past few months, despite that in certain areas even law-enforcement agencies fear to go, or are supposedly scared to go.
Other causes to oppose katchi abadi regularisation include lack of planning and building regulations. Since a lot of the poor settlements are unplanned, often there is no provision for modern vehicles to pass through, which gives rise to the question what would happen in case the government has to provide aid to the local residents. These settlements are bustling with three, four and even six storey buildings, poor construction and bad planning with hardly any space between the lanes for a big car let alone a truck to pass through.In such circumstances even if a fire breaks out, the fire tenders have a tough time reaching the inferno.
With such conditions prevalent, we have a disaster looming round the corner, which may strike us any day. It may look fine and noble at the first glance to regularise the slums, filled with criminal activities, combined with bad planning and bad construction, but in reality and long term it is not so. Hopefully, the government would realise this soon, as well as the supporters of the idea, who consider the word slum should be reserved for the West, as slums are considered physical and morally bankrupt, but our katchi abadies are only physically dilapidated and not socially decrepit. A farsighted approach is needed, and more houses of course.
The land gave her a desolate picture; trees that were full of colourful birds were lying in a heap at the side of the land mass running exactly parallel to her favourite stream. Even the stream was empty of fish now for the constant dumping of garbage from the neighbouring areas, as well as the junk off the nearby garage. Floating rubbish and debris gave out a horrid stench of dying fish mixed with motor oil and decayed vegetation. This is the story of a wild cat, which somehow got close to humans and started mingling with them because she found it a good escape from her loneliness. And lonely she was having lived in a jungle full of animals suddenly being wiped out to make room for some high-rise apartments.
Although in the early stages of adjustment to the concrete jungle the wild cat several times thought of just going out there on the highway and standing in front of a twenty six wheeler caterpillar, she was somehow able to resist the temptation. Or perhaps she had faith in her destiny to find something worthwhile to do. Nonetheless she survived the cutting of the jungle and destruction of her habitat.
Soon roaming about in this new jungle of Grey and black with some shiny stars that appeared to be very gigantic, close and within reach, compared to the ones she saw from within the branches of the luscious green leaves, she made some friends. A few ducks and swans in the city park lake, several crows nesting in the sidewalk trees; once she also spotted a black dotted koel dallying near the crows nest, and she knew it is about to destroy the poor crows eggs and lay hers instead, were a few friends apart from those walking on two legs.
The wild-cat was never short of food especially when near the park as kids and their parents once they got used to her started bringing tit bits for her to devour. Many were daily visitors living in nearby buildings and some were far farers coming once and never seen again.
The old woman and man were one of the few who frequented the park on a daily basis and were also her self appointed daily food providers. She soon got attached to them and looked forward to their presence. They never came separate and often the old lady would be in a depressed mood she noticed. Bit by bit she got to know that they were mates and that unlike her species, they usually stayed with the same mate throughout their life. This fascinated her a lot as she was more used to knowing and having several potential mates at a time. She also wondered about their off-springs, if like hers they left as soon as they were able to fend for themselves or they still lived on them.
This world was very fascinating, she got intrigued and wanted to learn more but how was the question. She soon found out about the teacher who could help her understand these two legged creatures language. Nobody really knew where to find the teacher, only it was considered common knowledge there is one. The wild cat after getting disappointing news from all quarters, finally one night went to the owl living in the tallest Margosa (Neem) Tree and asked him if he could guide her to the famed teacher. The wise owl looked at her with glittering eyes and asked in a grumpy tone:
Owl: Why are you interested in the teacher?
Wild Cat: I want to learn the language spoken by the creature walking on two legs.
She excitedly informed the owl. He looked at her with disdain and yawned.
Owl: And what good pray would come of that? My dear trust me when I say no good has come off anybody who has dared to meddle with these lousy creatures, willingly or unwillingly. Rather most have come to grief even with the best of intentions at heart, and you seem to be a green-horn for this city still.
But the cat innocent about the ways of this new jungle insisted on getting the address of the teacher. Looking at her pleading eyes and enthusiasm the owl told her that she is talking to the teacher and he will help her in learning the new language.
Owl: But make one thing clear my dear, you are not under any circumstances to use this knowledge outside the park and I want it upon your honour that you won’t.
Wild Cat: Oh great teacher! Fear not, I shall not use it anywhere but the park and you can take my word upon my honour.
Thus satisfied, the timings and days for the classes were discussed and it was decided that every night when the park was empty and there wasn’t much noise they would start. The first week she found it extremely difficult to even comprehend the differences in language, but after that she learnt the ropes pretty fast and within a month was able to understand what her new friends spoke about.
PART II
The pond between the tall trees looked very tranquil today, even the swans and visiting geese were not at loggerheads and tactfully avoided coming into each others way. The squirrels were running to and fro, collecting tit bits and squeaking at each other about one thing or another. The oldest Mrs. Squirrel in the park was under everybody’s censure for having unruly kids, who not only threw berries at every passerby, but at times also put other children playing with them in danger of getting squished.
The wild cat pondered near the Margosa tree for some time, thinking about her last litter of kittens and the white one she had loved dearly. She had hoped it would perhaps stay near her, so that she can see her once in a while. Nonetheless, it went away and so did the rest of them and though she had known in the heart of hearts that they will, it still hurt her if not much, just a tiny bit. She had always accepted it as a part of her life that kittens will leave her and move on, just like she did with her parents. But today she could not help but think what if they had not?
Looking around her hoping to find some diversion for the gloomy thoughts, she found the old man and woman sitting on their usual bench. Today the old lady had a bag with her full of colourful fur. She had two long sticks in her hand and seemed to be weaving something like a spider. The cat went ahead to get a closer look and tried to discern what type of web was she making with the fur, but it did not seem to be taking any shape right now.
She started wandering towards the chubby little kid sitting on the next bench and while passing the old couple she heard a muffled sob. She turned around again to look at the moping old lady, she was crying today and her hands were weaving the web faster and faster with each sob. To get a hint as to what was ailing the old lady she crept closer and wedged herself behind the bench between the bushes.
Old Lady mumbled: I wish he had told me earlier that he cannot come and has to cancel his trip for yet another year.
Old Man soothingly: He told me about a month ago that he may have to cancel the trip if his boss decides to promote him, and you know dear how it is with jobs these days. It is first of all hard to get a job and then retaining it is tougher. We should understand his problems.
Old Lady: You know it very well he has no need to work for that silly company when he can run his own business here.
Old Man gets angry: And you know it pretty well why he left in the first place. If you had not questioned him at each and every action or inaction of his he would not have left. I told you when you were behaving in that manner that nothing good will come out of it.
Old Lady goes quiet and continues her sobbing. The old man sniffs at her and lights his cigar. He reminded the cat of the old cocky monkey she so despised and who at times would tease her kittens a lot when she was away in search of food.
The miff that old couple had just now did nothing to alleviate the cat’s mood, on the contrary she was reminded of her white kitten with such a force that she did not pay attention to where she was going and ended up falling in a small ditch dug out in the sand pit, where children were playing. The kid sitting on the bench came running to rescue her at the cost of getting a scold from his finicky mother, who according to her guess was not pleased about her son touching the sand and also a street cat.
The Wild Cat felt very indignant and wanted to give the yelling lady a piece of her mind by informing she cleans herself every day at least twice and is not at all infested by flees and ticks unlike other cats of ‘her jungle’. But of course she could not do so and in anguish ran towards the same tree where she took her classes. The Teacher was not to be found anywhere and in disappointment she climbed the tree and sat near the top most-branch that allowed her a great view of the whole city.
PART III
Here she stood today in defiance of her teacher to find out more about this concrete jungle. Yesterday’s vista was still quite clear in her mind and although it did not frighten her she did feel a little intimidated by the surroundings. Already there were a few cats moving about looking at her suspiciously as if they expected her to harm them in some way.
She wondered at their funny sideways leaning gait, they were scratching themselves off on weird looking objects, and it took her a while to realise they were doing exactly as she used to do with trees when marking her territory. This is interesting she thought.
As she moved on she saw others of her kind but these she knew instinctively were ferocious, she could sense her muscles going rigid and alert as her nostrils filled with their smell. Nobody had to come and tell her that she had to be wary of this clan, her instincts warned her already. She felt relieved to regain her confidence in her instinctual behaviour; she had always relied on this natural talent when in her own habitat, it kept her safe and also got her food every day.
This new jungle was at times confusing for her, she did not rely on her own instincts to feed herself and that is why at times had to go to sleep hungry. But those were rare days, like when it rained a lot or she heard something had happened outside the park and there was no movement at all. Nevertheless it was a reassuring factor for her to know she had not totally lost her natural gift.
Wandering ahead, suddenly she could smell raw mouth watering meat, and though it was not possible to know what kind, she knew it would be great to taste. Therefore, she started sniffing for the direction it was coming from. As soon as she spotted it right across the street, she saw a kitten that in her opinion had recently left her mothers care, crossing towards her being hit by a big fast moving object. It moved on two round items, it seemed that those were cut out portions of a tree trunk but they definitely looked a little bit different. The kitten must have died she thought so she moved ahead towards the smell and finally found it a bit further down the lane.
It felt like ambrosia after those left over titbits she had been eating for the past few months. After having her fill of the fresh meat, she moved on to check out the other myriad of smells her nostrils could pick on every second. She saw colourful flowers, a place packed with different skins, another one filled with so many big and small objects, overflowing with colours never seen before.
Looking at all these wonders, she could not fathom why the teacher had asked her not to venture out in this new jungle. To her innocent unused eyes this looked like a wonderful new home, adorned with colours she had not known existed and objects that looked from another world. Venturing on she stumbled across many leafless trees and moving and rolling boulders of various colours and sizes. She took note of these things, so she can ask the teacher what they really were.
Exploring whatever her eyes clamped on, she wandered into this wilderness thoughtlessly directionless. As it closed towards evening and the thought of returning to the park struck her, the consciousness of being lost also became evident. As panic struck she started running in the direction she thought she had come from, and suddenly stood right in front of a big black dog.
Instinctively she knew the best would be to climb the nearest tree and hide in the branches. No sooner did she do so, she became aware that all along the path the trunks she had thought as trees were not really the trees she was used to; apart from not having branches they also had a surface her claws could not hold on to; in desperation she climbed to the top and felt safe. She knew the dog cannot reach her any more, but similarly she did not know how to reach back to the ground.
PART IV
After being stranded on top of this branchless tree for at least two days, she became exhausted and homesick. The sun had gone down on the horizon at least twice when suddenly she could sit there no longer and fell to the ground. To her surprise she fell right on her paws. But as soon as her paws could feel the pavement, she started running towards the direction she thought the park was.
By nightfall, she started spotting familiar objects and places. She could see the place which she earlier saw, stuffed with colourful skins and flowers of different kinds. Then she even saw the place where the kitten had died. She started reminiscing about the time when the stream had been clean and the jungle was green, when it was safe to even challenge the lion, because one knew where to hide and from where to strike.
She thought this place looked stark naked, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. The trees turned to mere trunks and those dusty pathways littered with toads and all sorts of critters, turned to a black swamp of some ungodly things. Reminded of what the teacher had said about venturing outside the park, she scolded herself in her heart and made a solemn promise to limit herself within its bounds, once she had reached the safe haven.
This jungle was not for her, it was strange and filled with still stranger creatures. Nostalgic for her true home, she dragged herself into the park and went straight to the Neem, she stood staring at it for some time, and then leaning on the trunk sat down.
She was now ready to accept this mere spec of a jungle, which hardly did any justice to its previous glory, knowing that this was better then what was out there, ready to engulf anything and everything within its path.
The print and electronic media both have been wreaking havoc with the poor, uneducated or half educated people of this country. Opinions are shoved down peoples throat as facts, while facts are brushed aside as heresy or conspiracies. And this is not just any one political party or religious organisation’s norm, nor is it specific to the conservatives or the liberals, it is a viral infection present in almost everybody regardless of their political leanings or their orthodoxy and vise versa.
For me the three most untrustworthy professions were, and perhaps still are, politics, law and journalism. Nevertheless, I still managed to join journalism. My condition is like a sweeper, who holds his breath by grabbing his nose between his index finger and thumb, before he lowers himself in the manhole to go about his business. I still am holding my nose, and am not even sure when I will stop doing so. Because, I feel that all these three institutions thrive on the constantly degrading conditions of this country. We are actually nose-diving at the current rate because of the rampant corruption within these three, [supposedly sacred] professions.
This trio of the unholy-politicians, the corrupt lawyers and judges along with the yellow journalists is the incubator where the filth of this society is conceived, nurtured, in case of injury resuscitated and revitalised to be reintroduced in the already dilapidated system. Of course, someone would think I have lost my marbles for not including the armed forces, as it has become one of the most favourite habits amongst these three to put the blame there. But this is where I am free from looking through their provided myopic lens. Not because I hold the armed forces scot-free, but because I hold responsible the people who call themselves more responsible and enlightened against everybody else. Nobody can stop me from holding responsible the ones who call everybody else responsible for their failures, their short sightedness, their selfishness and their darkness combined with their dark deeds.
Perhaps it is time to announce an anti-judiciary a-political movement supported by an un-biased media.
The night before last I came home angry and furious at our apathy and helplessness in face of guns and death. On main MA Jinnah Road, a bastard robbed a man in his car. There were six motorcyclists around, our press van, another pickup, and this lunatic on a motorcycle, wearing a p-cap looking as if he had all the time in the world, yelling at the driver of the car to handover the mobile and cash. Nobody was able to do anything except be silent onlookers. It was a typical scene with one man on a motorcycle with a TT-pistol, having no inhibitions or fear, acting as if he owns everything, including the people.
When the man handed him the loot, he took a u-turn and sped away. Nobody reacted. It took me at least 3 seconds to even realise what actually was happening, while the whole thing just finished in 15 seconds. The pistol he held looked evil in the streetlights. The motorcycle riders looked nervous, and the children in the car looked excited as well as scared.
I have been unable to get the whole scene out of my head. I cannot stop thinking how we are raising children in this country. With gun-wielding lunatics running rampant, and all of us so scared to move even an inch in front of those weapons and the savages who carry them.
Perhaps, this was my first such experience and therefore am so concerned and moved, people around me just took it in their stride and told me it was something that happened every other day, and I better get used to it, and be more concerned about my own safety rather then thinking what I could have done for somebody else.
Anyway…..
Today, while coming home there was a police mobile standing at the spot where the robbery took place. Whether it was because the victim complained or some other reason, but I was wondering where that mobile had been previously. Perhaps wherever it had been, the criminals would find a green signal there and resume their activities, and meanwhile, let this section of MA Jinnah Road be crime free.
