VISITORS to the Karachi Press Club and the dense commercial area surrounding it have in recent days been surprised to see an individual that appears to have dropped straight out of the world of fiction. Clad in his trademark yellow helmet, PK sits on the sidewalk with his battered cassette player, handing out yellow flyers, as described in a recent news feature in this paper.

The message of PK in Pakistan, as this incarnation of the character has been dubbed in Karachi, is simple: ‘Missing’, say his handouts, followed by ‘water, gas and power’ — all of which have been in increasingly short supply in recent years. The next line adds that also noticeable by their absence are honest people treading the corridors of power — salt on the wounds of a nation that has just seen a three-time elected, and as many times unseated, prime minister being handed down a prison sentence on charges of having wealth beyond his known sources.

PK in Pakistan is looking for the ‘right number’.

The reference is obvious to anyone with even a passing interest in South Asia’s film industry. PK was a 2014 Aamer Khan starrer concerning a humanoid alien who arrives on Earth for research, only to be stranded when he is deprived of the remote control that operates his ship. In his quest for the missing gadget, the character PK — so named by those he encounters because his ideas and observations appear to be akin to the ravings of a drunk — manages to deliver a pithy indictment on the divisions that tear human relations asunder, such as caste, creed and religion. Convinced that he only has to find the ‘right number’ on which to call the higher powers that will come to his aid, PK bumbles about and yet manages to hold a mirror up to a deeply divided and divisive subcontinental society.

Like his fictionalised inspiration, PK in Pakistan is looking for the ‘right number’ in this land to contact a higher power that can resolve or even address the myriad issues that Pakistan finds itself beset by. No election is without its lighter side. In the tension of an upcoming contest where the stakes are as high for voters as for contenders for high position, satire, dark comedy or even outright buffoonery can hit a nerve.

PK in Pakistan does just that, wryly telling curious passersby that, “Two days before the elections, I will give [the right answer] to everyone. I am sure to have found it by then.” As for political affiliations, he is open to — or equally, dismissive of — all of them: “I do not represent any party,” he said. “I like only one party, which is birthday party!”

The disillusionment this represents is to some extent a hallmark of the upcoming elections, even before the contest has begun in earnest. The 2008 polls were conducted amidst a feeling of change being in the air, given that a military dictator had been forced to step down as a result of popular protest — emotion deeply tempered, of course, by an outpouring of grief prompted by the assassination of Benazir Bhutto in December 2007.

The next elections were exhilarating for different reasons: an elected government had finally — for the first time ever — managed to complete its five years in power. It was the second consecutive on-time general election in a democracy that may have been diminished but that had managed to hold on to its roots. The future was still full of possibilities, and young people — many of them first-time voters — came out in droves to vote for that change.

This time around, though, an air of weariness seems to be setting in, especially amongst the more on-the-fence voters that are not die-hard supporters of one party or candidate or the other, but resemble more customers shopping for cereal in a grocery aisle. Bilawal has proved a damp squib and Zardari’s PPP is nothing like what the old guard would recognise; the MQM has fragmented and Altaf Husain’s allure has melted somewhat; the PTI has proved to be chasing the same electables that it once vowed to neutralise, quite apart from its leader having earned himself the moniker of Taliban Khan; and the PML-N has seen its prime minister disqualified, stripped of the ability to be the party chairman, and sentenced by a court of law. Who is one to vote for, given the options on offer?

But perhaps most damaging are the increasing whispers of election manipulation by ‘angels’ and ‘aliens’, the allusions to ‘hidden forces’ controlling the narrative, the fears of a perfectly rigged system that has all the trappings of a working democracy but little meaningful substance. And matters are only made worse by the press censorship that’s hidden in plain sight.

It cannot be predicted what the voter turnout may be on July 25, but the voter alienation should be taken seriously by all parties concerned. Surely, we cannot have tired of a system even while it is still a fledgling.

The writer is a member of staff.

hajrahmumtaz@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, July 16th, 2018