One of the most beautiful and fundamental aspects of Islam is the prostration; when we bow our head down we enter into a partnership with the Almighty in reiteration of the fact that there is no one worthy of worship other than the Creator Himself. In other words, sajda (prostration) is our reaffirmation of fearing nothing and no one other than Allah; once out of sujood (prostration) many folks break this promise and bow their heads in front of their circumstances, or they get awestruck by colleagues at work or simply become putty in front of their daily fears. This completely negates the essence of submission to the Divine because our words don’t match our actions. Moral capital is defined as the set of shared values and principles that make common life possible in a civilised society. It is an unspoken code of civility that makes personal transactions smooth and living worthwhile. In moral capitalism there is a high price attached to integrity and dignity, and sycophancy is deemed as extremely low in value. It is no surprise where many Pakistanis rank in terms of moral economy; this degeneration is the root cause of all evils that has engulfed us today — be it fruitless and deceitful interpersonal relations, the many branches of terror outfits, or a corrupt system. The namaz (prayer) timings have been perfected down to its nano second in the country; just like our educational system that thrives on rote people have immersed themselves in quickly reading a foreign language script in their prayers, and then stepping out of supplication to submit their spirits to other worldly beings. Unfortunately, there has been a conscious and subconscious collective decision to leave all hero-worship to cinematic actors or celebrities from other spheres spearheading a social campaign because we have pledged allegiance to conforming. Blending in as sheep is a more profitable, secure position than say helping a dying road accident victim or reporting domestic violence in the building to the cops or overturning the same old lopsided political scene that suffocates and insults one’s existence as a commoner. Hazrat Imam Hussain (RA), for instance, is zealously commemorated during the first 10 days of Muharram, but the majority, once they have devoured the haleem, fail to emulate his traits and the message of standing against oppressors. Our worship, our sajda is so hollow that the corrupt politician, the mean boss and the tyrannical in-laws, from time to time, become our temporary gods. How? Simply because of the fear we have associated with their power to disengage and disrupt our present and future. Allah keeps reminding us five times throughout the day through the call for prayer that the key to success lies in namaz, prostration is solely for Him, He is the provider of rizq (sustenance), and also the one with the knowledge of our future, but it makes no difference to many. They are content with their long beards, and mashAllah and inshAllah at the end of every sentence. The lack of real life heroes and of rebels willing to stand away from the crowd and boldly face an impending storm has turned people into blind followers and not leaders. Courage is usually defined as action in spite of fear but half-baked divinity ensures that bravery remains a bookish concept in the land. We are neither here nor there. Everyone loves to quip that zamana bahut kharab hai (times are bad), but zamana (times) is comprised of each one of us. Introspection as society and moral reforms are topics that generate no ratings but are crucial if Pakistanis wants to march ahead into the future successfully. While it is often futile to generalise, our national character and reputation in the world outside is not exactly great. Foreigners who have visited Pakistan will often tell you of the lies they were dished out for the simplest of things such as punctuality, which is an obsolete concept here. Paying people on time is another pending issue that needs fixing as soon as possible; too many stories go around about even prosperous news channels not having paid salaries to their employees for months on end. Any country’s moral assets are its citizens, not the gold in its mines, the oil in the ground or the trade ventures signed; it lies in the dreams of the poor child and in the ambition of the middle class adult. People are more valuable than money, money is a means to life and not life itself; we need to go back to the basics, start all over again, and perhaps the first step is in recognising one’s power as an individual. Things can be worse if Pakistanis don’t act now: fix our moral economy and take a stand against those who are morally corrupt, in our circle or in the country. Let us not commit blasphemy anymore; let our sajda be accepted as being authentic and long lasting. The writer is a freelance columnist with a degree in Cultural Studies and a passion for social observation, especially all things South Asian. She tweets @chainacoffeemug