[h=1]Deus ex machina of Pakistan[/h]Posted on May 25, 2012
We have all cherished the flowing beauty, rhythmic splendour and the transcendental reach of Beethovens seminal Symphony No.9. If the classical music is an edifying, soul-lifting and enlivening by product of a group of maestros, coming together, subordinating their ego and working as a team, then what can one say about one diverse, annoyingly complex, relentlessly acrimonious behemoth of a nation state, that has somehow astoundingly managed to churn out something equivalent of a ninth Symphony successfully for the past 65 years?
Jinnah gave us a wonderful country, only for his successors to debase it beyond recognition through their crass venality and despicable rascality. The Ninth Symphony of Pakistan might not be all that milk and honey as one would hope for or expect to see. It is an amalgam of components of mind-assaulting proportions. Pakistan is not just the name of a physical entity, circumscribed by manmade boundaries, demarcated along political and strategic lines or defined by clich and banality. But it is the name of an ideology, a concept, an ideal. A spirit uninhibited, an impulse unrestrained, a thread of unity which runs through the humongous fraternity sprawling across the planet called Muslims.
ButWhat happened to the miracle of 1947, so inimitably spearheaded and achieved by the Great Quaid? What became of those supreme sacrifices, lofty dreams and noble intentions, which formed the brick and mortar of the majestic architecture of Pakistan? What became of the dream, envisaged and envisioned by our Quaid e Azam, of establishing Pakistan as the most unique laboratory of human experience? What happened to Pakistan itself? The miracle of 1947 stands eclipsed; the dream has gone sour and our beloved country teeters at the edge of the abyss, liable to be shoved into oblivion by the machinations of its enemies and the failings of its own people.
The answers to these poignant questions are, my beloved city, painful and humbling to say the least
Each country has a constitution, ours has been absolutism marked by occasional assassinations. Each country has a defining reputation among the comity of nations; ours is of a failed state teetering at the edge of the abyss, with the begging bowl having replaced the crescent and the star as our national emblem. Once the baton of leadership gets passed into abominably venal and feckless hands, when Mr. ten per cent becomes the helmsman, when purveyors of pessimism masquerade as intellectuals, when symbols of regression and obscurantism pose as revolutionaries, when little separates a thief from the defender, when midgets stalk and rule the land of the giants, when a nation of 180 lionhearts gets saddled with a sheepish ruling elite, when the coming of age of a monumentally resourceful nation is obstructed and nullified by the dastardly antics of a perverted few-something is evidently rotten in the very fabric of that society, which needs to be cleansed through revolutionary fervor and patriotic spiritedness.
My beloved Rawalpindi, you do not have to look far to sense the magnitude of the havoc unleashed upon Pakistan. Your own bullet riddled air; splattered with blood walls; violence prone atmosphere; powder keg of a society; polarized milieu and paralyzed government sums up the desperate lot of the rest of Pakistan. Every day the monster of internecine violence extorts more human sacrifices; every day the gory drama of blood and bones gets enacted across the boulevards of our country; every day the miseries of your people get compounded; ever day is a pain and a torture for your people; every day brings more shame, more embarrassment for you, your people and Pakistan. Every day our soul gets bartered or sold by traitors and self servers; every day the already thin lines of unity get trampled by forces of divide and oppression. A dreadful hush hangs over your once bustling boulevards and environs, only to be disturbed by frequent bursts of suicide bombings. Every day we all slip further towards the abyss, which eagerly awaits our final fall from grace. If things continue to proceed along the same curve, then any day, we may meet the dead end, with Pakistan dissolving into oblivion, from which it was barely saved back in 1971.
History has come full circle, and fate beckons you to play the same role, as you had so valiantly played, 65 years ago. Back then, Pakistan was reeling from a cataclysmic birth, you were called upon to rear and wean it into robustness; you did that so gloriously. 65 tortuous and stormy years later, you are once again being called upon to help save Pakistan from a cataclysmic downfall.
The laws of nature, history and human conduct show, that its darkest before the break of dawn. A trough has to precede a crest; destruction bears seeds of construction and hope in it, only after a nadir, comes the zenith. Only from the ruins of the past, emerge fresh hope, renewed vigor and a new Leader!
A leader, through the courage of his convictions, clarity of vision, indomitable will, unwavering strength of an incorruptible character, unswerving focus and unflagging patriotic spirit; single handedly changes the course of history. His revolutionary and soul stirring message, spreads across the milieu like wildfire, warming the hearts of a bedraggled and comatose nation, setting ablaze sterile and cold imaginations, triggering off an earthquake, resulting in seminal tectonic shifts, which alter the tapestry of the landscape as well as the future of the nation dwelling within, forever.History has bestowed many titles on such rare individuals, Greeks called them as Deus ex machina; some called them as Messiahs, others the saviors, Muslims of the sub continent had their Quaid I Azam.
It is history revisited for you Rawalpindi. You are being called upon to save what you had so splendidly spawned. You are being asked to kindle that fire of revolution once again, which had electrified your people into supreme action 65 years ago. Back then, you had produced the man of the moment, the man of the hour, the leader of the people, to spearhead the birth of Pakistan. Now fate beckons you to recognize the man of the moment, the man of the hour, the leader of the people to save Pakistan. 65 years ago your favorite son was Muhammad Ali Jinnah, now fate and providence have passed on the same mantle to Imran Khan. If Jinnah was the leader of the nation of lion hearts, the Quaid e Azam, Imran Khan has earned the title of the leader of the nation of cornered gladiators.Quaid e Azam saw a dream and converted it into reality; Imran Khan endeavors to save the same dream from going sour.
The stage is the same, the place is the same, the challenge is the same, the circumstances are the same, the patriotic fervor and charisma of the leader are the same, what is left to be done is the same gushing of emotions, venting of passions and expression of will which set our forefathers on the road to freedom 65 years ago.
Time to relive the tale, recreate history and reinvent Pakistan. Time to herald a new era of peace, prosperity and beatitude. Time to show the world that we are a nation of 180 million lion hearts, a nation of cornered tigers, led so admirably and heroically by destinys child, the fabled savior of our times, Imran Khan!
http://mittipayo.wordpress.com/2012/05/25/deusexmachinaofpakistan/
Twitter: Zain
We have all cherished the flowing beauty, rhythmic splendour and the transcendental reach of Beethovens seminal Symphony No.9. If the classical music is an edifying, soul-lifting and enlivening by product of a group of maestros, coming together, subordinating their ego and working as a team, then what can one say about one diverse, annoyingly complex, relentlessly acrimonious behemoth of a nation state, that has somehow astoundingly managed to churn out something equivalent of a ninth Symphony successfully for the past 65 years?
Jinnah gave us a wonderful country, only for his successors to debase it beyond recognition through their crass venality and despicable rascality. The Ninth Symphony of Pakistan might not be all that milk and honey as one would hope for or expect to see. It is an amalgam of components of mind-assaulting proportions. Pakistan is not just the name of a physical entity, circumscribed by manmade boundaries, demarcated along political and strategic lines or defined by clich and banality. But it is the name of an ideology, a concept, an ideal. A spirit uninhibited, an impulse unrestrained, a thread of unity which runs through the humongous fraternity sprawling across the planet called Muslims.
ButWhat happened to the miracle of 1947, so inimitably spearheaded and achieved by the Great Quaid? What became of those supreme sacrifices, lofty dreams and noble intentions, which formed the brick and mortar of the majestic architecture of Pakistan? What became of the dream, envisaged and envisioned by our Quaid e Azam, of establishing Pakistan as the most unique laboratory of human experience? What happened to Pakistan itself? The miracle of 1947 stands eclipsed; the dream has gone sour and our beloved country teeters at the edge of the abyss, liable to be shoved into oblivion by the machinations of its enemies and the failings of its own people.
The answers to these poignant questions are, my beloved city, painful and humbling to say the least
Each country has a constitution, ours has been absolutism marked by occasional assassinations. Each country has a defining reputation among the comity of nations; ours is of a failed state teetering at the edge of the abyss, with the begging bowl having replaced the crescent and the star as our national emblem. Once the baton of leadership gets passed into abominably venal and feckless hands, when Mr. ten per cent becomes the helmsman, when purveyors of pessimism masquerade as intellectuals, when symbols of regression and obscurantism pose as revolutionaries, when little separates a thief from the defender, when midgets stalk and rule the land of the giants, when a nation of 180 lionhearts gets saddled with a sheepish ruling elite, when the coming of age of a monumentally resourceful nation is obstructed and nullified by the dastardly antics of a perverted few-something is evidently rotten in the very fabric of that society, which needs to be cleansed through revolutionary fervor and patriotic spiritedness.
My beloved Rawalpindi, you do not have to look far to sense the magnitude of the havoc unleashed upon Pakistan. Your own bullet riddled air; splattered with blood walls; violence prone atmosphere; powder keg of a society; polarized milieu and paralyzed government sums up the desperate lot of the rest of Pakistan. Every day the monster of internecine violence extorts more human sacrifices; every day the gory drama of blood and bones gets enacted across the boulevards of our country; every day the miseries of your people get compounded; ever day is a pain and a torture for your people; every day brings more shame, more embarrassment for you, your people and Pakistan. Every day our soul gets bartered or sold by traitors and self servers; every day the already thin lines of unity get trampled by forces of divide and oppression. A dreadful hush hangs over your once bustling boulevards and environs, only to be disturbed by frequent bursts of suicide bombings. Every day we all slip further towards the abyss, which eagerly awaits our final fall from grace. If things continue to proceed along the same curve, then any day, we may meet the dead end, with Pakistan dissolving into oblivion, from which it was barely saved back in 1971.
History has come full circle, and fate beckons you to play the same role, as you had so valiantly played, 65 years ago. Back then, Pakistan was reeling from a cataclysmic birth, you were called upon to rear and wean it into robustness; you did that so gloriously. 65 tortuous and stormy years later, you are once again being called upon to help save Pakistan from a cataclysmic downfall.
The laws of nature, history and human conduct show, that its darkest before the break of dawn. A trough has to precede a crest; destruction bears seeds of construction and hope in it, only after a nadir, comes the zenith. Only from the ruins of the past, emerge fresh hope, renewed vigor and a new Leader!
A leader, through the courage of his convictions, clarity of vision, indomitable will, unwavering strength of an incorruptible character, unswerving focus and unflagging patriotic spirit; single handedly changes the course of history. His revolutionary and soul stirring message, spreads across the milieu like wildfire, warming the hearts of a bedraggled and comatose nation, setting ablaze sterile and cold imaginations, triggering off an earthquake, resulting in seminal tectonic shifts, which alter the tapestry of the landscape as well as the future of the nation dwelling within, forever.History has bestowed many titles on such rare individuals, Greeks called them as Deus ex machina; some called them as Messiahs, others the saviors, Muslims of the sub continent had their Quaid I Azam.
It is history revisited for you Rawalpindi. You are being called upon to save what you had so splendidly spawned. You are being asked to kindle that fire of revolution once again, which had electrified your people into supreme action 65 years ago. Back then, you had produced the man of the moment, the man of the hour, the leader of the people, to spearhead the birth of Pakistan. Now fate beckons you to recognize the man of the moment, the man of the hour, the leader of the people to save Pakistan. 65 years ago your favorite son was Muhammad Ali Jinnah, now fate and providence have passed on the same mantle to Imran Khan. If Jinnah was the leader of the nation of lion hearts, the Quaid e Azam, Imran Khan has earned the title of the leader of the nation of cornered gladiators.Quaid e Azam saw a dream and converted it into reality; Imran Khan endeavors to save the same dream from going sour.
The stage is the same, the place is the same, the challenge is the same, the circumstances are the same, the patriotic fervor and charisma of the leader are the same, what is left to be done is the same gushing of emotions, venting of passions and expression of will which set our forefathers on the road to freedom 65 years ago.
Time to relive the tale, recreate history and reinvent Pakistan. Time to herald a new era of peace, prosperity and beatitude. Time to show the world that we are a nation of 180 million lion hearts, a nation of cornered tigers, led so admirably and heroically by destinys child, the fabled savior of our times, Imran Khan!
http://mittipayo.wordpress.com/2012/05/25/deusexmachinaofpakistan/
Twitter: Zain
