Before May 11, 2013, there was a sense of urgency growing amongst the populace, a sense of panic and understanding that it was either ‘now or never’. Before May 11, Pakistan was encapsulated in a blanket of fog so thick that looking through it to try and decipher what lay ahead had become an impossible feat. Before May 11, promises had fervently been made, speeches passionately delivered, and the awam (people) of Pakistan had been taken in and convinced in a manner so smooth by the Oscar-worthy performers we call our politicians that they still don’t know what hit them. Little did we know that problems of a different nature would begin (and add to the plethora of existing ones) straight after May 11, 2013.
An election symbolises the transition from one government to another, a baton of responsibility being handed over to the group of people waiting to receive it next. In Pakistan, this did indeed occur, with everyone (except a few) having worn their best mature faces to the outing, in which the majority accepted the results of what proved to be an extremely controversial election, with a fake smile on their faces.
None of the above is something we have forgotten just yet (or possibly ever will), but isn’t it lovely being able to reminisce about the good times before you shift focus onto the bad? By ‘bad’, I mean the present situation. And yes, in case you’re wondering, we have mentioned the sole good thing that has happened within Pakistan (in the last few months) in the last paragraph already. No, I’m not referring to our talent for fake smiling, but in fact, the transition of power between the outgoing PPP government and the PML-N.
The elections are done. And besides having to deal with rigging allegations and traumatic TV debates concerning the transparency and fairness of the entire affair itself, it appears that the majority of Pakistan at that point was ready, if not dying, to move forward. Fair enough. Many however, were at the edge of their seats, waiting to pounce with pre-planned criticism.
The fair thing to do, or so I was told, was to wait a while before the new government ‘settled in’ and found their feet. Obviously, it is too soon to judge someone’s achievements or shortcomings within just the first five days of having taken an oath, right? But how much time is sufficient to begin passing judgment? Who measures when and if it’s fair to start blaming the people in charge for incompetence when target killings continue, and when electricity looks like it might be discontinued altogether?
The PML-N government did not, by any means, take charge of a Pakistan that was at the top of its game, in fact, quite the opposite. Pakistan is currently in the throes of an excruciating migraine, with bright lights and loud sounds being hurled in its direction, threatening to make the situation much worse. But if it wasn’t already bad enough that the citizens of this country have to deal with receiving a few meagre hours of electricity, alarmingly increasing rates of poverty and a ferociously rampant threat of terrorism, it is our very own political parties, which fail to keep their own houses in order, only adding to the list of problems engulfing us.
It sometimes (more often than not) feels as though the entire concept of our State Emblem ‘Unity, Faith and Discipline’ has eluded us completely in recent times. We are only united in our quest to outdo our opponent’s political agenda (whatever those even are anymore), have faith in the fact that we will get ahead of the other by any means necessary, and are exquisitely disciplined when it comes to mastering all varieties of blaming, condemning and condoling. Other than these instances, our political parties have regressed tenfold, and have failed to show the maturity required to move forward, in the true essence of the term.
The earthquake generated by the past governance of the PPP triggered the ‘Tsunami’ Imran Khan promised to bring, which in turn ended up being overshadowed by a mighty volcanic eruption courtesy of the PML-N, which spilled into the National Assembly faster than you can say ‘lava’. ‘Hurricane’ Qadri disappeared just as soon as he had appeared, and the MQM is drowning in its flood of tears, mostly provided by its supreme leader himself. General Musharraf lies on the sidelines, promising to bring a heat wave no doubt, which shall give the government of the day something to distract the people with, whilst they try their best to do more than just provide hastily made budgets, and heartfelt (?) condolences.
The political disasters mentioned above are fuelling this nation’s migraine to such an extreme, that pretty soon the common man will snap and ask for proper medication. Who will prescribe it? Certainly not those who cannot agree or see eye to eye (don’t think about the song!) on even the basic things this country needs: counter-terrorism policies, feasible energy plans and employment generation.
The problems are escalating, and the margin for error is minimal, and believe it or not, Man of Steel was just a movie. There is no Superman, and even if there was, he isn’t going to save Pakistan. It is you and I who have the power to raise our voices and force those in a position of power to bring the change they so boisterously promised us. There will be another May 11 in five years but only if we make it that far. And even though this country helps my cynicism soar to new heights it is also the only one I have. Instead of whispering a ‘Get well soon’ under our breath every time we watch our streets flow with blood and our homes drown in darkness, let us end the indifference and apathy. Every migraine has a cure and every problem a solution.
Pakistan is ours to own. What are we doing by not helping fix it?
The writer is a freelance columnist