Baryaal’s Weblog

Prior to the elections of 18thFebruary, Amin Fahim looked all set to become the next prime minister of Pakistan. And he most probably still is, since nothing has changed except the minor political necessities that arose due to PPP’s weaker than expected performance in Punjab.

In all probability, the entire search-for- prime minister show is being staged only to address those minor necessities.

The name of Shah Mehmood Qureshi keeps the PPP’s Punjab chapter happy, after the party graciously conceded the chief ministership of the province to PML (N).

On the other hand, the name of Chaudhry Ahmad Mukhtar is a ploy to annoy the Q League leaders of Gujrat.

Above all, the whole exercise projects the party as a true democratic entity where decisions are made on the basis of thorough consultations with each and every member.

In the end, it is most likely that Amin Fahim will emerge as the PM and Asif Zardari will take permanent residence in Lahore to keep the party alive and active in the biggest province.

UPDATE 1: Well, let me just accept it. I was wrong.

The bunch of whiz kids at the power corridors also tried their skills at other legendary myths of the “Brand Pakistan” variety, but the “Soft Image of Pakistan” was outlandishly out-of-this-world.

Right from its fabrication, our soft image limped on for months, propped up by the soft-faced and soft-spoken female models, who toured the world to put in Pakistan’s share to the global softness pool. In the beginning, everything at least appeared to be going soft and well.

Trouble started when others took the brainy official strategy and modified it to their own advantage. 

Cheered by the idea that the world hears softer voices clearer and understands them better, the black burqa brigade came heckling into the open, in middle of the capital of the enlightened moderates, to take all things soft head on. They didn’t spare even our para-jumper tourism minister and the all-favorite Chinese masseuses.

Within days, our soft façade got cracked.

In chorus came another image-shattering extravaganza, as hard hitting as the former. While we anticipated jovial goras all over the place in the “Visit Pakistan Year 2007,” the former Chief Justice decided to implement his own version of Visit Pakistan. Riding on the shoulders of his black coat brigade, he went every corner worth a peek, and painted the remaining of our image in black. If there was anything left of our soft image, the 12^th of May and the wide array of suicide bombings after and before it, above all the tragic assassination of Benazir Bhutto, took it once and for all.

Now, that he is freer than ever, will someone tell our President-cum-Opposition Leader that image is not only how you want others to see you; it is how you actually look. For a soft image, we need a softer reality.

As a first step, he must go.

Yesterday, a one liner news item appeared on the daily Jang’s website: “Mad dog in Hyderabad, (Pakistan) bites 20 people…”  This is an achievement for a dog to be a small dog and take a headline, in the presence of so many big dogs who occupy our media all year long. So what qualities did the small dog posses to make this impossible possible?

• Firstly, the dog was really mad because he risked it all by sampling 20 randomly selected human beasts for his fame.

• He was good at math, counted his score, and got counted.

• He was aware that biting too few won’t get noticed, unless he was biting Americans. Thus, he also perfectly knew which side of the world he was walking, and biting. 

• He had some mass biting training and was sufficiently good at preplanning, for he got them all cornered God-knows-where and took them one by one.

• He was dying to get discovered, and got discovered.

Missing Details

• The reporter is silent on how he ascertained the dog’s gender, and whether the first victim was the dog’s boss L

• No one knows what happened to the dog after his biting spree was over. I fear the worst L

Kashmir Singh sneaked into Pakistan blinded by his patriotic Indian zeal only to waste his life in a death cell.

He has been returned after making sure that he will not be able to fool around ever with the idea of serving his country in another country again. He has learnt his lesson, but the cost is horrific. 35 precious years of a lifetime wasted.

Ansar Burni was looking for a perfect opportunity to bring some life into his otherwise good-for-nothing caretaker ministry. He got it too. Gleeful amidst the flashing cameras, he made sure to sit tightly locked to Kashmir Singh, not to be separated or missed in any photo or video opportunity.

Obviously, he wanted more, and while Kashmir Singh talked, Ansar constantly dialed on his cell, most probably trying to contact Kashmir’s family to add some more spice to the whole episode. When finally, Singh’s family got on the line, the content hungry media denied him even the much deserved opportunity to be able to talk to his family in privacy for the first time in 35 years.

The channels broadcast live a conversation which otherwise should have been a private family reunion. Ansar Burni being the human rights activist turned the speaker of his mobile on, to let the world listen.

So who got what? Media got an hour of free content without doing much work. Kashmir got his freedom. Ansar added to his popularity, and Musharraf got a much needed prayer that otherwise would have been hard to come by, in Pakistan’s present political scenario.

I am still wondering which of the two is harder to bear: 35 years of rotting in a death cell, or being treated like a monkey by the media for 15 minutes.

This is the age of super talkers; talkers, talkers, and more talkers. They stalk us everywhere in the office, at the barber’s, on the go, and even in our own drawing rooms. TV, FM, or the net. We get them in the millions, all always talking and all making little sense.

In no time, talking has emerged into a multi-billion dollar industry. Only in Pakistan, they proudly and repeatedly remind us that we have got more than 50 channels - more than 50 table chair channels! All right, they may be channels in the eyes of the famous-for-its-ordinance PEMRA, but to an average entertainment starved, frustrated and tired viewer that I am, they are source of little entertainment and more frustration. If simply putting tables and chairs together and making idiots with oral diarrhea sit around and chatter, makes a studio room a TV channel, why have only 50? Why not fifty thousand, five hundred and fifty five!

But what drives these talkers to chatter ceaselessly, all day and all night?

The more I think, the more I am assured that these so-called programme hosts and their half witted talking heads are out there really and only to entertain their own selves. Yes. The sadists they are, they get pleasure from the mental torture they inflict upon our minds and souls. The same must also go for the so many writers and DJs, who itch to write and talk, mostly nonsense, in tones as if they were the saviors of mankind, the beholders of high morals, the purveyors of social justice, and the experts in everything on the face of this earth.

Ever heard a film actress talking of modesty? I have. Ever seen a massive former Punjabi film actress trying to teach the virtues of dieting? You soon will.

It is not that I am against the freedom of speech, since even if I was, acknowledging that would be politically incorrect and disastrous for the purpose of this page, which I dream will one day be counted among the top talkers from Pakistan. Yes, I am eagerly looking forward to establish myself as talker rather than be the lame-duck listener that I am and suffer in silence the unbearable rant of every Tom and Mrs.  

Moral: Talking is the best source of entertainment, listening to others bull is the worst kind of boredom.