So there i was, enjoying a feisty comments-debate (on a blog i gave props to in my last post, so i'm not going to do so again. i'm very much like this) when suddenly, it felt like an intense deja vu.
it was something that has happened so often during the past year i have been an active participant in the blogosphere that i wonder if i should even partake in it any more.
it goes something like this - a blogger puts forth the idea that the country should be democratic, it should be modernized, it should have peace with its neighbors, it should not be forever insecure, it should be secular.
that leads to much controversy, inevitably, because such an opinion OBVIOUSLY means forsaking our islamic identity,
NECESSARILY implies that we become closer to the americans or the west and accept the superiority of the indians. it dictates that we lose our national sense of morality,
sell our women to be ravaged and ravished by uncircumcised RAW agents,
send our poor to be melted in vats of acid, collectively desecrate the memory of the Holy Prophet, start listening to "Stairway to Heaven" in reverse and believe that Ajit Agarkar was a good bowler.In short, such an option for pakistan would mean that we would become the most despicable excuses for humanity possible.
you also notice that the people who draw such conclusions at even the slightest hint that pakistan should be anything other than mullah omer's wet dream
are people who are not living in pakistan. a majority of them are those who are living, working or have emigrated abroad. is this a huge generalization? perhaps...
now if we come back to the comment-debate i was talking about, the person in question was someone who indeed lives abroad. during two-month long vacations that he/she takes to pakistan on an annual basis, this person achieves the superhuman feat of empathizing, sympathizing, and most importantly, relating completely with the "average" pakistani. the "common" man.
doesn't it suck that someone like me who has never stayed in pakistan beyond a 2-month period would be more accepted by the general people than someone like you? doesn't it suck that if i went to chill with some of the poor at orphanages in balochistan or went to the villages im from in punjab or visited schools we've help build in kashmir that you, and not I, would be the obvious misfit?
let us discard for one moment the fact that such a person - the common man - doesn't exist beyond drawing room, and by extension, blogosphere conversations or celebrity op-ed contributions.
now these expat pakistanis feel that pakistanis from similar class/social status as themselves are becoming increasingly baysharam, bayhaya, that they have sold out the values and identity of the country and the nation, that they have committed sacrilege and blasphemy, that they have become traitors to the country as a whole.
when they combine this impression with the depressing social, economic and political news they read and watch about pakistan, they come to the conclusion that because of the actions of the "elite" that they encounter, the country is at its current impasse of being absolutely fucked up.
i'll put it in simpler terms - because the elites they meet are all fucked up, and the country they live in is all fucked up, it stands to reason that the former is responsible for the latter.
now, i'm not saying that the actions of the elites are not responsible for pakistan being bum-fuck crazy. but such a deterministic and ultimately simplistic argument never appealed to me. how can it be that 5% of a country half the population of Europe can be the sole purveyor of blame, while the rest of the 95% are idiots and simpletons who can not exert any control over their lives?
however, thinking like that leads one to the idea that pakistan somehow needs to be saved. can't argue with that. but the savior most people have in mind is either the magical cure of an islamic society, or the globally proven balm of constitutional democracy.
now i wrote to my vacationing in pakistan friend in the comment debate that one thing we must understand is that pakistanis as a people are a incredibly harami lot. i mean we are kanjars par extreme.
this sounded offensive to many, and i can see why. here is what my comment-debate friend had to say
"you clearly pity yourself and your absurd mentality that pakistan is a harami place is part of the problem. self-pity never helped anyone get anywhere and it wont help pakistan. if it is such a harami place incapable of changing, why are you there? or do you, as with most priveleged pakistanis, have a superiority complex and trust in your ability to thrive in a harami environment?"
now i replied to that with an intensely emotional response. this blog is a more rational take on things.
you see, there are a million reasons why pakistan is a harami place. i can go into all of them, but i would encourage readers to give their own examples in the comments section.
here is one reason that i think perfectly encapsulates pakistan's harami-ism.
back in the 90s, when relations with india were a lot more paranoid and closed-off than they are even now, post-Mumbai, cricket matches between the two countries used to be held solely on neutral locations.
for those who don't appreciate the place cricket holds in our hearts, you must understand that cricket in south asia is an extension of nationality, and even religion. for a lot of us, the cricket team is the only genuine thing about this country we can be regularly proud of, and it is also something that helps us punch above our weight.
a pakistani cricketer can become a rock star, an intellectual, a prophet, an action hero, a pin-up model, a father figure and a sex symbol all rolled up into one. 
the greatest batsman of our generation was inzamam-ul-haq, affectionately known as inzi.
although inzi's list of achievements can go on forever, his first act alone should reserve a god-like status for him for all eternity. if it wasn't for a 37-ball innings of daring genius by this man, we would have never been world champions. simple as that.
anyways, in 1997, pakistan and india were involved in a series in toronto known as the sahara cup. at one point during the second match, inzi - whose demeanor incorporated the zen-like calm of buddha with the laziness of a bored cow - rushed up to the stands with a bat in hand to assault a spectator.
what heinous and despicable acts was this brazen villain committing?
he was calling inzamam an "aaloo."
a potato.
that had been enough to upset the demeanor of a man who ferocious fast bowlers, wily spinners, sledging close in fielders, cheating umpires, vindictive journalists, brutal selectors and everyone in between had never even extracted a raised eye brow from.
so how would a cricket mad country treat one of its most revered stars, who had to face the unimaginable ignominy of being insulted by not just a spectator, but an indian supporting spectator, not just an indian fan, but a dirty, cow worshipping, piss drinking, Babri mosque destroying, Zionist collaborating Hindu?
the next time, and far as i can remember, through out the next 11 years of his glorious and exemplary career, inzamam would be welcomed to the batting crease by his own supporters, his own countrymen, his own people the exact same way.
they would welcome him with the chants of "AALOO, AALOO"
every single time.
please remember that cricket stadiums are overwhelmingly populated by the common man. please also remember that inzi's favourite hobby was rescuing the shame and izzat of the pakistani team over and over again.
and finally, please remember that he was one of the kindest, softest, most lovable and huggable pakistanis alive.
and yet, every time, every single fucking time - aaloo, aaloo.
at a moment like that, confronted with a reality like that, how can you not come to the conclusion that your entire country is nothing else if not harami?
i mean, forget the drones based in our own country, forget supreme court stormers upholding the independence of the judiciary, forget claiming that gang-rape gets you canadian visas, forget everything else.
aaloo, aaloo.
Reverberating through the concrete wasteland of the NSK, bouncing off the arched roof of the Gaddhafi, echoing through the male-only stands of the Arbab Niaz - aaloo, aaloo.
but does that mean that pakistanis, and by extension pakistan, are to be hated, or looked down upon, or despised for their innate harami-ness? (harami translates into bastard)
two people helped me realise that this is not so.
the first was this man, my grandfather.
when i had grown up enough to realise that he was not just my nana, but a poet of stature, i would wonder why he chose patriotic poetry. i mean, where is the rebellion, the middle finger to the establishment?
by no means was all his poetry patriotic, but it was one of his central ideas. i wondered if he was just naive, what with his simplistic calls for love for the country.
as i learnt of him, his life through my family, i came to understand the eminence of the man, the trials and tribulations he withstood in the face of the stark reality of supporting a family, and the repeated betrayals of his country and his people. for him to not get jaded, to not let those things defeat him, to still be consumed by the passion of his ideals taught me that there is something worth loving in this god-forsaken land.
the second person is the woman i love.
she taught me a lot about our country, but her invaluable contribution was that she taught me how to love. she made me realise that you love something for what it is, not what you want it to be. that love is not about contentment, but continuous unrest. it breaks you down to build you up again. when we love, it is not out of convenience, not out of intellectual fulfillment, but rather out of need, out of desire, out of a compulsion to love.
"jaan"
for the simple understated necessity it employs,
for placing atop enviable heights,
yet familiar like dew bitten earth to the senses,
bare
embarrassing
vulnerability.
you can not love that which you cannot stand unless it changes. you can not love that whose identity you deny. you can not love what you do not understand. you can not love out of contempt, but through truth and through hope.
yes, pakistan may be harami. but whatever it is, and however i wish to see it change, this is the pakistan that i love.
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