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There was a Syed who lived in my neighbourhood when I was young. Well, there were many Syeds in our neighbourhood but this particular Syed Sahab had recently immigrated to the city from a nearby village. He had employed a servant from the Sheedi community. They were passing by one day from the neighbourhood when out of the blue, Syed Sahab turned and gave his servant a resounding slap and demanded, “Why are you walking like me?” This anecdote is not of hearsay but an incident I saw with my own eyes. It seemed funny then, but now it is a saddening incident.
As the villages have begun to shrink and cities have begun to expand and grow closer after devouring land, rivers, mountains, trees and forests, the reign of the mirs, pirs, sardars and Syeds. Whether they are in the fields of literature, politics, bureaucracy, administration or even social activism and progressive ideology, rights of the poor or the saviours of Sindh’s heritage and culture, or join NGOs or the ranks of the revolutionaries, everything orbits around them.
Democracy is their household slave anyhow; and in any case the pathetic average citizens have no involvement in it all except casting their votes and giving sacrifices. The right to rule – which has been inherited by each subsequent generation – in the end, lies with them and them alone. In keeping up with the changing times, they also brought the women of their families out of the traditional purdah and into the assemblies. As entire clans have been born to rule, the same house is represented in both the government and the opposition.
Their parties’ activists were born only to become activists and are destined to die as their respective party’s activists. If the workers give countless sacrifices, they might then be given a less important post in the government so that their livelihood continues. Meanwhile, their own expenses are far above their livelihood. So the most important posts start from the immediate family and barely manage to reach their near relatives. For the poor, in whose name they shall rule, there is the Benazir card for them, notwithstanding the change of its name by Mian Sahab, who increased the amount set aside for the welfare of the poor in the budget so that he could serve the public. Everything else shall continue as it is: the poor people and the clans would both be happy. In any case, those who are to receive the largest share usually get their respective shares set aside from the outset and one cannot even say a word of protest. Both the incoming and outgoing rulers are well-aware of the consequences of protesting.
Those who were never a part of rulers get involved in the struggles of the social activists, nationalists, progressives and other such revolutionaries. They learn great lessons and then teach what they learnt to others. They will eat onions and roti with the poor worker, but won’t settle for anything less than Chinese food at their homes. Struggles like these have been going on for years. Most of the activists turn into contractors and the struggle and contracts continue to go on hand in hand. The waderas and the rais arrange their source of livelihood by receiving votes, while these contractors arrange for theirs from many other sources.
At first, there were only government jobs, officer ships and contracts. But now there are also NGOs and the media. Leisure activities must be arranged for alongside one’s livelihood. Arrangements such as these used to exist previously but now it has all changed. From those overwhelmed with the pain of the masses and their poverty, political and social activists, to the shining stars of our literary scene and artists at the peak of their respective arts; even the greatest need of this age, our intelligentsia, whose intellect flows like the gushing rivers and is unstoppable.
At nightfall, they all melt in worrying for this nation and simultaneously make the necessary arrangements for the future. Their gatherings consist of educated media persons, people in high offices, or those in administration or those who have taken it upon them to destroy the education system or even those who are out to improve the lives of people through NGOs. The intellectuals and writers eat and drink together and they know perfectly well how to protect each other’s interests. These days, their conversations begin from property prices and end at car models.
Despite so many struggles, intellect and NGOs, new records of poverty, karokari (honour killing), kidnapping, burglaries, murder, violence and plunder are being done. Education and good governance only remain in name. In every city, whether large or small, the representatives have made gates in name of their ancestors for admission, which are adorned with banners, while the roads and streets of the city are full of rubbish. One day one hears screaming about Sindh’s water being stopped. But later, two drops of rain fall become a cruel catastrophe because Sindh is in flood and aid must be given to them. This has been going on for the last three years. Floods come every year and then leave after lining the pockets of all these officers, NGO workers and the social activists. The poor are destined to worry about their next meal.
But then the Pir Sahab, in order to teach him a lesson, sent him to prison. For the last two weeks, every method has been used to remind him of his true status, a story for another time. But the CSS-qualified DIGs of this nation – three of them, not one – now refuse to set him free without the payment of ransom. The courts continue to function as usual; but every judge, who is approached for getting our friend bail, refuses to hear the case. Four judges have refused until now as Pir Sahab’s pictures looms up in front of them. The lesson learnt here is that one must remain a part of them because otherwise one would be isolated and beaten up! Meanwhile, only our Chaudhry Sahab can tell us what law actually means.
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