Directly Proportionate

April 02, 2010

Studies show that the drone attacks in the NWFP against militants have caused more harm than benefit; they’re fueling the terrorists, leaving them with the want to avenge more death and destruction, regenerating more militants in place of the few and promoting an anti-U.S. sentiment amongst Pakistani citizens in general.

Official reports of the civilian causalities from the drone attacks in the NWFP from 2009 vary between 20 and 700, the former being an official report given by U.S. military personnel to a leading U.S. newspaper; the latter, Pakistan’s failed cry for attention (or a slightly watered-down version of the truth). Independent resources say 32% of all casualties are civilian.

I do not believe the American’s are against us (please recall the “you are either with us or with the terrorists” speech by President Bush in the wake of 9/11). They have assured us of “change we can believe in” and constantly boosted our ego with chants of “yes we can”. Hussain (Obama) spoke to us directly in his beautifully crafted speech delivered in Cairo. It contained all the right elements to woo the Muslim Ummah: carefully calculated pause for applaud, a pinch of hope and quotations from the Qur’an added to taste. I believe that joint efforts of the U.S. administration are working towards a more sustainable Pakistan by bringing peace to the region and *insert other oft-repeated empty phrase here*.

But why, you ask, has there been no tangible change? Mr. Harold Hongju Koh, Legal Advisor to the U.S. Department of State, explained how the Obama government had to ensure more continuity in the international relations department than change; because you can’t turn a ship around in a day – that, and they were aiming for a shift in the “attitude toward international law”. [Fact: there were 45 drone attacks in Pakistan during the entire Bush era, in comparison to the 51 of Obama’s term so far.] He reiterated how the war in Afghanistan was not an “American war” but one “joined by forty-three other countries… in an effort to defend ourselves and all nations from further attacks… [from Al-Qaeda, the Taliban and all associated forces who] continue to attack us. We are acting in response to the, horrific 9/11 attacks and may use force consistent with its inherent right to self-defense under international law.”

Mr. Koh said there were two rules governing operations to ensure that they were in fact consistent with principles of the law of war; these are: distinction (making sure your targets aren’t civilians or civil objects) and proportionality (requiring the “collateral damage” to be proportionate to the benefits of the operation).

Let’s do the math for the sake of proportionality. It has been nine years since the attack on 9/11 which killed almost 3,000 people; since, about 103,000 civilians have lost their lives in Iraq, and “hundreds of thousands” (there are no exact figures – opinions vary) in Afghanistan and the uncounted in Pakistan. This ought to put the “distinction” argument in perspective too. But, we are the joint forces who are at war, because it’s not an American war, to protect American soil, even though all “collateral damage” seems to be levied on us. Distinctly proportionate.

Gist of the story, says Mr. Koh: “U.S. targeting practices, including lethal operations conducted with the use of unmanned aerial vehicles, comply with all applicable law, including the laws of war.” As for the question of “sovereignty” that General Kayani keeps harping on, we’re told that the U.S. does not consider the NWFP part and parcel to Pakistan as it has its own legal and social code (thank you amendment number one million to the Constitution). They say that because Baluchistan is following the rest of Pakistan with regard to its legal framework, it remains within the bounds of Pakistan, ergo, out of bounds of the U.S. drone attacks; that is, until they can come up with another excuse. Amen.

I would like to say this: President Hussain, please put money where your mouths at. I’d like you to refrain from floral language and give it to us straight. If you can, try to stay out of our business and let us figure out our lives. As for the Pakistani government, please start realizing and educating others of the “numbers” detailing lives we’ve lost in this “war on terror”. Why aren’t our “Names of the Dead” honorably displayed in our newspapers and in our government buildings (in the U.S. House, every Representative has a board of pictures of soldiers from their district that have lost their lives in this war and newspapers print updates lists of names)? Why is it that we can honor the likes of Iftikhar Chaudhry and not those who lay their lives on the line for us every day without any recognition of their sacrifices? Let’s conduct a “long march” for them and the police/army personnel conducting traffic check posts and show appreciation for what they do instead of cursing at them under our breath as we inch through traffic; they want to be there just as much as we do.

Studies have also shown that generally suicide attacks, although advertised as being conducted in fervor of a religion, are all freedom fighters who want an end to foreign occupation (see also: Chechnya and female suicide bombers). Therefore, in the words of Allama Iqbal: “Let's try hard to stop insulting each other and to prevent all kinds of violence.”

They Rose from Cauliflower

March 26, 2010

Everyone knows that Pakistan, a front-liner on this War on Terror, has been dealing with the repercussions of the Taliban seeping through the Af-Pak border into its North West Frontier Province (NWFP). There, the War on Terror took another twist and “we” started blindly bombing these illegal immigrants; and a full-term-baby later, we seem to have killed about a dozen of their top-officials and close to a thousand others that Hollywood calls “collateral damage”. But those suckers seem to keep growing! We kill, they replace, and the damn circle of life starts all over again. I blame The Lion King.

Our government has an impeccable plan to dupe the Taliban into leaving. By passing the 18^th Amendment to the Constitution [Situation Comparison: in the 63 years of Pakistan’s existence, we’ve passed 17 amendments to our Constitution. The U.S., in its 263 years of existence, has passed 27. Conclusion: Pakistan stands for stability.], they’re going to change the name of the NWFP to something more inconspicuous like “Pakhtoonistan”. This way, when the Taliban are crawling out of the caves, we say: “Where do you think you’re going?”

Taliban: “Err, the Frontier of Pakistan, of course!”

“Sorry, bud, wrong number; one-seven se rujoo farmaein.”

“Fudge-sickles, let’s move further east!” Thereby, strategically placing them in India. Two birds, one stone indeed.

Thereafter, America will want to be our best friend, give us more aid which we can use to equip our Governor house with a much needed gold-plated toilet seat; while India will be left to deal with its incessantly growing internal terror threats and will have to kiss international cricket goodbye. Now, I’m not wishing ill on India at all. I believe the power of Bollywood will prevail and soon the Taliban will be prancing around trees and serenading the monsoon rain in yellow turbans (inspired by Sri Devi’s yellow sari, of course).

The Awami National Party (ANP) wanted to rename NWFP “Pakhtunkhwa” - claimed to be the original name of the area and a request that was duly passed in the Provincial Assembly. PML-N worries that it gives the wrong message and would prefer the word “Abbasin” to precede Pakhtunkhwa. If that is done, ANP insists Punjab be renamed “Saraiki Punjab” or “Gandhara”.

We ought to do our research, therefore, for further inspiration on this topic, let’s look at how countries have been named in the past. Here are our options:

Naming a place after its people: e.g. England (land of Angels – haha, got to love the English sense of humor) and Nigeria (from “Niger” which means black). Because the people of the NWFP region look like a Nazi dream, I’d refrain from making use of this precedent.

Naming a place after the physical characteristics of the land: e.g. Albania (white mountain) and Jordan (River Jordan). We could use “Ghaar-istan” but that’s not so poetic unless it’s pronounced all throaty, and seeing how guttural words are innately Arab, we’d just be inviting the Taliban home. Not the best idea.

Naming a place after someone: e.g. Saudi Arabia (House of Saud) and El Salvador (which means “savior” in Spanish – named after Jesus). But who do we name NWFP after? Our Prophet, peace be with him, so that the Taliban feel like they’d be smote if they intrude? Or one of our many military dictators because they promoted Islam in their own special way? Or maybe Bhutto, because let’s face it, she’s everywhere.

Randomly inspired names: e.g. “Brunei” stems from the Malay exclamation "barunah!”, meaning "great!" How about “Fakhir” for “great” in Farsi? Not that we’re promoting pop-music in Talibanland. Nepal is derived from “Nepa” which means “those who domesticate cattle”. How would you lyrically translate “those who sell arms or our stolen car for a song”? Thailand means “Land of the Free”; I think we ought to use “Home of the Brave”. [Any reference to a patriotic anthem is highly coincidental.] All of the above are fairly solid options in my opinion.

I was very fascinated when I learned the meaning behind the name “Pakistan”. I always figured, we were detaching ourselves from the impure Hindu’s, so “Land of the Pure” was pretty apt and that was all the thought it took (needless to say, I almost failed my pure-studies class in school). Chaudhry Rehmat Ali coined the name in 1933 as an acronym of the different regions that would constitute the Pure Land: Punjab, Afghania – his preferred name for NWFP, Kashmir and Sind. “Stan” was adopted form Baluchistan and, what do you know, it also means “home of” in Farsi. [Rehmat Ali gave further explanation, developing the letters behind the name, in 1947. Since I prefer the initial explanation, the latter is irrelevant.]

My vote is with Rehmat Ali. Let’s name it Afghania and forget what the Provincial Assembly voted on. Besides, referring to Quaid’s Fourteen Points, Point Number One was to have a federal government giving only residual powers to the provinces. I’m sorry, but “residuary” doesn’t mean you get to name yourselves. Next thing you know, they’ll want a separate legal system to govern them as well. Oh wait…

By the way, the 18^th Amendment also places all powers back in the office of the Prime Minister, as would be expected of a Parliamentary form of government; clearly, not as pressing as renaming. Shakespeare didn’t know what he was talking about when he said “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” Not really, William; it becomes a cauliflower and that just smells.

The Pakistani Dream

March 20, 2010

I found myself at a happening event in Lahore last week – not that anything in Lahore is “un-happening”. I discovered that our introductions have evolved over the years to now incorporate the most useless of facts. We used to meet someone, introduce ourselves (using both first and last name, unless you’re Madonna), tell them it was oh-so-jolly that we got to meet and thereafter, proceed to enquire about their day/health/the weather. These days, we jump to the statistics and the imperative facts: what we’re made of - hot air or regal lineage? If you're beneath me, why squander precious banter time on you? That’s why it was absolutely apt that someone introduced themselves as a *insert caste name here* and another as having lands. All this with the backdrop of a bomb going off in Model Town, nothing short of a massacre in R.A. Bazaar and then seven other trinket explosions in Iqbal Town. We don’t lose focus.

I read about the water shortage that has left the women of Sind scaling miles to retrieve about two gallons for their family; very efficient and very hygienic indeed. But let me not waste time on things that don’t affect me directly. I live in the real Pakistan – The Punjab, the blessed – Alhamdulillah! We are so blessed that not only do we have access to water with the turn of a tap, (sans someone filling the tank once a week) but we also have a daredevil provincial parliamentarian who wants her husband to marry a second (third or fourth) time without her consent and another, who generously gifted her dupatta (her honor, if you will) to Shahbaz Sharif – who incidentally pleaded with the Taliban (trading his honor) to leave his province and focus on the un-real parts of Pakistan, if it so pleases them.

But Sind is strange; they are not allowing the Taliban within their borders, chasing them out by spewing their Urdu-Speaking-ness at the speed of the Rawalpindi express. The Taliban are men of God, don’t they know? I fail to understand why we allow non-Punjabi’s to consider themselves Pakistani, let alone human, they be so stupid. We’re more Muslim here in the Punjab than they are in Sind and Baluchistan combined! We stand by our Tehreek-e-Whatever, because their name sounds more Muslim than “Muttahida Qaumi Movement” and all their members fashion unruly beards. Answer me this: was Pakistan not claimed in the name of Islam? I believe it was; therefore, these people ought to know better! They don’t stand for the principles our Father-e-Nation taught us. It is claimed that he was in fact just looking for a secular state, but I know he meant for the words “Islamic Republic” to precede our country’s name – forget that it took us almost a decade (1956, to be exact) to realize that.

I’m not going to comment on the PPP; I mean, they’re in power, their name includes “Pakistan” and their slogan “roti, kapra, makaan” points all fingers towards the Punjabi dream. Why else do you think Punjab incorporates all agricultural hubs, Faisalabad and endless developing housing schemes (read: “for its elite” – the only people that matter)? So, when James Truslow Adams spoke of the American Dream he only did so because he saw (just as Zaid Hamid sees the coming of Ghazwa-e-Hind – which by definition is flawed but who cares because he’s Ali-Azmat-endorsed) the coming of Pakistan where his words would stand true. In “Epic of America” Mr. Adams writes: “It is not a dream of motor cars and high wages merely (because I have my lands to support my feudal ways), but a dream of social order in which each (Punjabi) man and each (Punjabi) woman (haha kidding, women are just to fill those pre-assigned seats in parliament so we can show the world that they’re equal and attend committee parties. They know their real place is in the kitchen where they shall concoct new variations of the Paratha) shall be able to attain to the fullest stature of which they are innately capable (i.e. how much you can bribe), and be recognized by others for what they (i.e. their forefathers) are, regardless of the fortuitous circumstances of birth or position (again, kidding. You know only *insert caste name here* have it made).” Mr. Adams was innately Muslim being a direct descendant of Hazrat Adam, his name standing testament to that; and we all know all true Muslims are Pakistani (read: Punjabi) at heart.

When we Lahori’s mingle in our (sheltered) environments, be it a GT in Bedian or a launch of some new brand, we’ll talk about the weather, complain about how Muslims around the world have it bad: “I got stopped on my weekend trip to Prague because my green passport smelled of curry” – pass a quick comment on Palestine and sip our lattes as we gaze scornfully at someone’s top-of-the-range LV purse. Similarly, our local assembly debates things of importance, how to get our youth off of those late night phone calls because what is happening in the wee hours of the morning on your budget-talk-phone-plan can only be the workings of Lucifer himself. Astaghfar! We don’t need to take more action against the increased terror attacks to the city that are causing our children to miss school, we simply deploy the best of our army and police to protect those that matter (minutes after the Model Town blast, I was stuck in traffic because of our V.I. Premier moving out of this beautiful city into the safer realms of “I don’t even care”).

This is why Punjab has always been represented better *ahem* in government and why we epitomize Pakistan. We can’t have some Muhajir representing our country now can we? Only the silly Americans would allow a foreigner like Schwarzenegger to hold government office. But then again, he is the Terminator. I mean, forget that we’re all technically Muhajir because we all were Indian about sixty some years ago. But yeah, we’re the real Pakistan and Punjabi is the real national language; we just say it’s Urdu to keep the little folk happy and out of our hair so we can shop in peace. So, as we sit out our late night talk shows, discussing (yelling/rambling) matters of importance in our Punjabi-English accent, Sind, Baluchistan and the NWFP for that matter, can take up inconsequential things like the Taliban and the drones that seem to miraculously kill dozens of their people every week – Note: their people, their problem (just don’t let your internally displaced filter into our nicer parts of town; that’ll really upset us). That’s why they’re not invited to J&S’s latest ball. They wouldn’t know how to represent.

Please, Sind, Pakistan is not “khappo-ing” it is only you that is creating the racket by screaming that incessantly into our ears. Kindly refrain. Thanks.

Lingers in my head...

Just yesterday, in my weekly tarjuma class, we were speaking of how all requisites for life are available for us without question and without fail. We breathe we eat; the fact that we are face water shortages or our ozone layer is depleting is directly correlated to how we've abused these resources. But I'll leave it to Al Gore to cover that one.

What we do to human life, that's another battle. We have bomb blasts and shootings left, right and center, not only in Pakistan but in Mexico and the Dominican Republic and everywhere else. What's that about? What brings a man/woman/child to the point where all they can think of to make their lives more peaceful, is to blow themselves up and "If I'm going down, I'm taking everybody with me." What does it take? Poverty and the frustration that comes with it? Brain washing of some bizarre kind? How much of that washing is required and what is it being washed with? I fail to understand the seventy-two virgins and how appealing they possibly could be. I'm a firm Believer, in that I love God and I pray to Him five times a day; I believe that I'll be reprimanded and rewarded for everything I do. I believe, til kingdom come, I am being tested. That said, it would naturally follow that I wouldn't believe that I am ready to blow myself up in oblivion for want of the streams of milk and honey (yes, it is the food that is luring me); I would always need that one extra day/hour to do that one act of kindness that will tilt my scale favorably. It also naturally follows that when my time is up, no number of security detail or cordoned neighborhoods are going to protect me. But I'm sure others, like myself, would appreciate some calm and dignity until that time comes, instead of dying and reliving every time we hear a rickshaw backfire because it could just as easily have been a bomb.

I don't buy the fact that this genocide is in the name of religion; neither does anyone else for that matter. Now, what other myth could we propose to veil these "acts"? God is testing us, sure, but we'll pick up our pieces and live on, but those behind these atrocities, how are they picking themselves up every morning? My friend W.A. once lost his nail in a soccer match and he had issues swallowing the fact for days. How can you obliterate structures, homes, lives, children, mothers and brothers and think "Maybe a second blast would've proven more effective, challo next time"? I fail to grasp what this thought process could entail or where it stems from.

I watched "Paradise Now" with my aunt in Dubai and as we walked out of the cinema we discussed how it was intriguing how brainwashed this man was into becoming a suicide bomber. I take it back. "Brain washed" would innately imply a brain to begin with. There are no extra-credit points for returning to God with a completely "washed" brain, "Brand new, Allah, not used at all! Feel free to recycle". No; I'm sorry, what in the sweet Lord's name are they using to wash it so that there are no remnants of common sense, courtesy or dignity? The debates of morality and religion have echoed for eons but no one can dissuade from believing that lying, stealing and killing are a no-no from Tennessee to Timbuktu; whether you follow Budha, Darwin, Jehovah, Jesus, Ram, or no one. Life is always sacred.

Living in Lahore has brought me full circle, from being confused, to being angry, to being sad and now I'm back at confused again. All these "episodes", all these places, all so close to home. Today, practically in my back yard. And why? We'll never know and we'll keep wondering, instead, how to better our youth by detaching their cell phones from them and by filing law suits against the Government for some obscure form of what we like to call blasphemy. Again, in the name of religion. I'm glad we're at least focused.

"God, guide and protect us. When we're wrong, correct us." - Bob Marley.

March 8, 2010

"I am, however, glad to hear that you and your loved ones are doing well. I am sure that it still affects you guys and I do hope that things will get better soon. It is very tragic to see how a place that one loves so much can begin to be such hell; maybe it is just me that is thinking of Venezuela, so I mean no disrespect to your country :)" - Anneliese, Fleckenstein.


Another morning, another bomb blast. People can pretend like its the norm here, but its not. It still winds us completely and we all rush into momentary frenzy, calling every-which person we can dream of that would be in the vicinity of the blast. Fifteen minutes into this, we all get dressed and go to work like we would any other day. At work, we exchange stories of where we were and what we thought that sudden noise was. Ten minutes into that, we settle at our computers and life resumes as usual. Unusual. Does the death and destruction not affect us? I went shopping the same evening. Anne is right, it pains us to see our homes, our people and our identity shake to its core with a single bang.

It took the international media a while to get this beat in (the New York Times didn't have the story until five hours after the incident). "I just heard about the blast as major news were focusing on this damn Oscars." - Charbel Moarbes. But we're not pointing fingers, because our own news networks the next morning had other drone attack stories and news of a couple of buildings catching fire to report. We pick up and the hell on because there's more carnage elsewhere to focus on today.

If we take in every death and every bombing and various other misgivings and reside ourselves to our homes, we're getting nowhere; not that we as a nation are seemingly going places now. But one thing Pakistani's have, is hope, faith and resolve like nowhere else. However, that phrase has been lathered, rinsed and repeated so much I think its losing its bubbles.

Its not about who we can blame; be it the genius who thought it apt to place the Federal Investigation Agency office in the hub of one of the biggest planned residential areas of Lahore, or the Prime Minister whose envoy was conveniently taking away police/army personnel to escort him out of his home an hour after the attack in Model Town, or the terrorist that strapped his truck with some of the good stuff and rammed in there. Its not about that at all. Its about how this is supposed to be a lesson learned, relearned and re-relearned. At this point, frankly, I forget what I'm learning anymore. All I can think is that we're learning to "suck it up and deal" - which innately implies being somewhat of an ice-queen, sadly. I'm learning that I can't get upset and sob each time something goes off (transformer or bomb?) in my beautiful city. I'm learning to see the death-toll in the paper, know its not just a figure but families and children; the entirety of life, but move to the sports section instantaneously. I've learned to be an Ostrich (dig head in hole and pretend everything is peachy).

Anneliese would always tell me how she moved from Venezuela because they didn't agree with Chavez, how he chose to run the country and what he was doing to it. She moved to the US with her family, leaving behind heritage, friends and Caracas, what she still calls home. She is no less Venezuelan now; still loudly spewing Spanish at the speed of light, fun, gorgeous and full of energy! But, she's not at home and I know it kills a part of her.

I think of her every time something "goes down" in Lahore. I think of how her family had the courage to pack up and leave and how they must have had no other option and how I don't know if I'd ever be able to. I know I want to move out of here just so I have only good memories of Lahore. The memories of old Lahore as I remember it from my visits back during my childhood: the smell of the sand in the canal as the water reappears, come spring; the sound of a rickshaw and the rattling truck that carries hundreds of glass coke bottles; and the time a crow stole a rusk from my hand as I sat daintily in the garden of grandparents' house in Muslim Town (to date, crows petrify me). These are my memories of Lahore. Now, they're fading and being replaced by memories of how we escaped the office in July, 2009, when a bomb hit the security offices across the street on Mall Road, or of where I was when the earthquake of 2005 hit or of when I visited Swabi last summer.

I just pray that Pakistani's leave, not like Anne and her family to escape without knowing if and when they can return, but because they want to and because they return with a sense of pride of their country and their culture. I hope that the hope and resolve that we're constantly reminded of doesn't fade and translate into anger and frustration. I pray that we don't lose the faith.

"Tu nishane azmealishan arze Pakistan; Markaz-e-yaqin shadbad." - Pakistani National Anthem

[Translation: Symbol of high resolve, Land of Pakistan; Blessed be your fortress of faith.]

Lahore - Fashion Week

As we were filtering in with the dazzling, the disoriented and the dysphoric, I couldn't' help but notice how chic Lahore really is. I underestimate the pretentious potential of our people. What we lack in national knowledge, we make up for with our knowledge of London's High Street fashion.

The event was fully equipped with ushers dressed in black, aptly armed with fake British accents (eat that Amreeka) and fashion icons donning the oddest fashion known to man (Maria B was wearing this big faux flower hat thing, I don't quite know what it was, but it was very "The Devil Wears Prada") - big chunky beads are in, sleeves are out, grays and purple are in, everything else in your closet is out (unless you weigh 90 pounds and have flawless skin and constantly blow-dried hair). Sprinkled amidst the "Fashion Family" were the socially inept and internally displaced who forgot to slap on a little cement to make sure their expressions were permanently frozen in the pose they look best. Perfect blend.

What I wanted to see was a designer, in a Shalwar Kameez, someone not trying that hard, someone being genuine. Maheen Kardar and Tia (Kami's partner) are the only ones I saw doing that; I'll appreciate class when I see it. The designers whose work I was fortunate enough to view, were whack (with the exclusion of Kamiar Rokni - I wish I could afford his creations). I don't think anyone would buy anything out of their collections, or have anywhere to wear them. Then again, I go everywhere in my pajamas's if I can help it, so what do I know. Dresses cut just short of knee-length got more stares from aunties in the first row (visibly praying to God for forgiveness) than they did from men. Crazy head-gear shimmered as the models leaned back, almost falling, and strut their stuff. You had the designers that used funky music or a different entrance to make a statement, which was good because it took attention away from the unnatural clothing they were trying to sell. Or were they?

I will give the "fashion industry" this: they're gelled. They get along with each other (and even if they don't, I didn't witness any cat fights) and support each other and help each other out; it truly was a family affair. That said, they need a new DJ. The music always abruptly changed and was obnoxious in that it was blaring so much that it crackled at times. It was also good to see the husband of one designer (the designer was wearing an abaya, but forgot to button it up so her armpit fat peeked out for its moment of glory) gaily escorting his wife down the ramp on her way backstage. He waved emphatically to the crowd and was more excited to be there, tindd-lashara-maroing et all, than anyone else I'd seen all night. Good for you sir, your five seconds of fame on the shoulders of your ill-dressed-designer-wife. Trophy indeed!

Lahore(ies) - thanks for keeping it (not real, but...) interesting.