It was a lazy Friday afternoon. Driving back to Lahore, after spending two weeks in the power corridors of Islamabad, I drove pass by the staff quarters of ‘Zarai Taraqiati Bank Limited (ZTBL)”. The sight took me back about four decades; these were the same residences where I had spent quite a few summer vacations with my cousins, where most of us puffed our first cigarettes and joked about consuming the wild ‘bhang’ that was in abundance around the quarters. My aunt spent a good part of her life in one of these quarters (her husband used to work in what was then called Agriculture Development Bank of Pakistan (ADBP)). It now has an Urdu name and has even opened a branch in one of the corner quarters- perhaps to support the ‘farmers’ who choose to stay in Islamabad, as it might be too inconvenient for them to travel to their agriculture lands in the rural areas.
I had witnessed a lot since my summer excursions of the 80s in these quarters. I saw the re-advent of (non party democracy) of 1985, the home coming of Benazir in 1986, her rise to power in 1988 followed by what is now called the ‘lost decade of the 90s’ that witnessed the ‘Kalim Ullah to Sami Ullah’ passing of PM slot from Benazair to Nawaz Sharif and vice versa.
Then, in 1999, came General Musharraf with an agenda to clean politics and recover looted wealth. It was followed by the Shaukat Aziz period when citizens of Pakistan were promised a wealthier country through ballooning of the bubble. The technocrat’s government of the Shaukat Aziz was followed by another 90s style PPP-PMLN era. During the 2010s, somehow, the nation witnessed the rise to power of the PTI. This party now holds the reign and promises ruthless accountability and a new Pakistan.
As my driver took a detour from Faisal Avenue, near Zero Point, I was struck with the sight of three old beggars- two women and a man- asking for money rather aggressively. And why wouldn’t they- the Covid 19 Pandemic has crippled the economy and the poor are the hardest hit. The passing cars, despite being on a turn from a fast-moving main road, made sure to stop and give some change to the beggars. Islamabad is full of influential-rich people, and, the few minutes I stopped there were enough for me to deduce that each one of the beggars will make at least 10K in a day, an amount similar to what the GoP is handing out, as a one-time grant, to the poor in wake of the Corona Pandemic.
I tried to persuade the three beggars to move to the other side of the road, under the shade, and a little away from the turn, for their own comfort and to avoid traffic congestion that may cause a road accident. They, however, could care less, of their own comfort or the accident hazard. The generous support from the largess of Islamabadians was too much for them to think of anything else. They hardly cared about themselves or anything else before Corona, why would they now?
I then recalled the beggars of the 80s, who I occasionally ran into during my excursions in the area. They were fewer, rather shy and were happy to receive coins of 50 paisas. As I walked back to my car, I was saw the cigarette, still lit, which the male beggar was trying to hide from me and had tucked under his shalwar, not thinking it can burn his clothes or him. I asked ‘Chacha saadi hey?” and he sheepishly replied ‘Jee, aaj kal doosri naheen milti’. Not much has changed after all from the 80s, I thought.
The writer is CEO SMEDA