“Mubarak ho, IMF ka loan pass ho gaya……..arre nahin ji, hum ne toh apna kaam kiya baaki Allah meharbaan tha…..bas default nahin hone diya, dekh lijiye…” Sarfaraaz’s eyes had a glint of rock star and his hands trembled in excitement as if he was being crowned Miss Universe.
His octogenarian father Liyaqat was sitting on the couch with a newspaper in his hand and listening to his son. His facial expressions told a different story. His old eyes had no sparkle in them but exhibited a feeble tinge of embarrassment. He did not see the whole thing of IMF loan as a success. The headlines of the newspaper in his hands narrated the grim story of huge havoc created by massive floods. One of the headlines said - “Pakistan has appealed to the international community for an ‘immense humanitarian response.” Liyaqat is notably embarrassed to read it because even after seventy five years of independence, his country was unable to handle a humanitarian crisis and as always was stretching hands for help. He knows that unfortunate fury of floods had costed his country ten times more than the loan his son was so proud of having ‘bagged’ or ‘begged’. He also knew that this was the twenty third time his country had gone to the door of IMF to beg. His thoughts strolled back on the trail of his fading childhood memories when his family had shifted from Amritsar to Lahore during in 1947. He remembers shouting lofty slogans of nationalism in Lahore as a student. He then remembers seeing the down slide of his country on the road of external assistance and becoming a pawn in the cold war.....its obsession with Kashmir and dream of seeking strategic depth in Afghanistan; all of which led to commencement of gun culture and state sponsored terrorism. He had seen how successive military and political leaders played the game of musical chairs of power and weakened the democracy....he had seen how the religion card was played by these self serving leaders to stay afloat....he had noticed how the education system was made rudimentary and regressive.....he had seen with concern the blatant Punjabi domination, feudal culture and neglect of other provinces at the cost of Punjab......he had seen the shameful genocide of the Bengali people by Pakistan Army, humiliating breakup of East Pakistan and surrender of 90,000 Pakistani soldiers.
Liyaqat knows that the burgeoning debt of his country had reached the humongous figure of 250 Billion dollars and wonders why his foolish son was rejoicing getting little more than a billion from IMF and that too on returnable basis. He then gets the answer. His son was a typical Pakistani politician who believed in short term fire fighting rather than long term vigilant planning. He believed in getting loans on ‘whatever’ terms and leaving the ramifications on the successive decision makers. Two days back he had read in the news paper that inflation in Pakistan had broken the record of last 49 years. The new tranche of the IMF loan comes with caveat to increase cost of gas and fuel which would lead to further inflation. IMF has warned that public unrest will increase in Pakistan due to the inflation. This would be a suitable opportunity for people like Mr Imran Khan to fish in troubled waters.
Liyaqat takes a deep breath to exhale his frustration. He turns his head towards the kitchen where his daughter in law is grumbling about the high prices of vegetables and essentials. He gets up slowly and walks past the old photograph of his parents. Those simple people had blindly rallied behind the Qaid-e-Azam to the so called ‘home of Muslims’ in August 1947. He shakes his head in disbelief and wonders where that spirit had vanished and what had happened to the dream of Qaid-e-Azam. He now thinks that perhaps what many people say was right....Mr Jinnah who was a champion of Hindu-Muslim unity till 1930’s adopted the idea of Pakistan only to massage his ego. He knew that his two nations theory was flawed but pressed on the demand for Pakistan to place his name in history. In a decade of partition, people started opining that Pakistan was not a nation but just a group of disparate people coming together due to an accident of history and ambition of one man. Pakistanis are neither Mughals, nor Arabs nor Turks.....they are essentially Indians but accepting it goes against their ego.
Liyaqat picks up a cup of tea from the kitchen and returns to reading the newspaper. He feels a tinge of regret as he reads that India had surpassed UK to come to the position of fifth largest economy of the world. He again takes a deep breath.
Across the street, a photo of Mr Jinnah hung on the wall. His steely eyes staring down at his people.....what would he be thinking is anybody’s guess.
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