Tuesday, December 17, 2019

قصّہ مشرف کی علامتی سزا کا- از ڈی اصغر






آپ نے آج ٹی وی پر سب سے بڑی یہ خبر سنی کہ سابق صدر اور جنرل ریٹائرڈ پرویز مشرف کو سنگین غداری کے الزام میں سزاے  موت دی جایے  گی.سب جانتے ہیں کہ ایسا ہونا ممکن نہیں یہ صرف علامتی سزا ہے. حکومتی ترجمان اور کچھ تجزیہ نگار یہ اچھل اچھل کے کہہ رہے ہیں کہ صرف مشرف کو کیوں باقیوں کو کیوں نہیں. اگر لمحے بھر کو سوچیں تو یہ اپنے اندر ایک اعتراف جرم ہے.

 ان  کا اصرار ہے کہ مشرف کا ایک وزیر اعظم تھا۔ ایک کابینہ تھی۔ جس وقت #مشرف نے نومبر ٢٠٠٧  میں ایمرجینسی لگائ صدارتی نظام رائج تھا۔ یعنی وزیر اعظم کابینہ کے ممبران وغیرہ سب #مشرف کے ماتحت تھے۔ #مشرف گو کہ اس وقت آرمی کے چیف نہیں تھے لیکن اپنے اقدامات سے وہ یہ ظاہر کر رہے تھے کہ وہ مطلق العنان ہیں۔ جن کی یادداشت کمزور ہو وہ #یوٹیوب پر جا کر نومبر ٢٠١٧ کے حالات کا دوبارہ جائزہ لے سکتے ہیں. 

اختیار اور طاقت کا ایک اصول ہے جسے سمجھنا ضروری ہے۔ جس کے پاس فیصلہ سازی کا آخری اور حتمی اختیار ہوتا ہے۔ فیصلہ اس کا ہی تصور کیا جاتا ہے۔ جن کو بھی رتی برابر سیاست سے دلچسپی ہے وہ جانتے ہیں کہ #مشرف  بطور صدر مختار کل تھے.  ان کی رعونت اپنی انتہا پر تھی. سو اقدام ان کا ہی تصور کیا جاے گا. یہاں وہ دوسروں کو گھسیٹ بھی لیں تو وہ بھی یہی کہیں گے کہ بادشاہ سلامت کا حکم تھا.

 آئیے اب اس سوال کو بھی دیکھ لیتے ہیں کہ نومبر ٢٠٠٧ ہی کیوں اور اکتوبر ١٩٩٩ کیوں نہیں. کیونکہ بڑی مکاری سے اپنے اس اقدام کو جناب نے ٢٠٠٤ کی پارلیمان سے منظور کروالیا تھا۔ لہذا اس وقت پھر جناب کی چھڑی کے ڈر سے یا اس وقت کے تقاضے کے مطابق ان  سب نے ان کو آئینی کوور دے دیا تھا۔لہذا آپ کسی ایسے اقدام کو ٹرائ نہیں کرسکتے کہ جس کو پارلیمان درست تسلیم کرچکی ہو۔
  
  ایک آخری نقطہ  کی صدا سنای دیتی ہے #مشرف کے باقی کے ١٩٩٩ کے کور کمانڈروں 
    کو کیوں نہیں شامل کیا گیا۔ تو بھائ ابھی عرض کیا کہ سوال ١٩٩٩ نہیں ہے۔
اب اس کا ہو گا کچھ نہیں۔ یہ علامتی سزا ہے اور کچھ نہیں ہے۔ اگر کچھ ہوا، وہ بھی اگر ہوا تو صدر پاکستان معافی دے دیں گے۔ اللہ اللہ خیر صلی۔  

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Sunday, January 6, 2013

A Man Called Taseer

Original Article: Daily Times
Date Published: January 03, 2013
Original Link: http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2013%5C01%5C03%5Cstory_3-1-2013_pg3_4

Ignorance is perhaps the biggest enemy of mankind. The Holy Scripture was revealed with the very first word ‘Read’. The Almighty emphasised on that particular word for a certain reason. It leads you to the possibility of further understanding and enlightenment. I am often amazed at our folks who compete with one another by saying they have ‘finished’ reading the Holy Book an x number of times and the other retorts by being one up by being a ‘hafiz’. May the Almighty create more hafiz among us but my sincere hope is that He creates better readers of His word first, people who can truly read, reread, decipher and internalise the Scripture and its true meaning.

There are no two views about blasphemy when it comes to the Holy Prophet ( PBUH). Any believer would stand against it and register his/her disdain. By the same token, a believer would not take the law in his/her own hands to eliminate people who mock our Holy Prophet (PBUH) Instead, he/she would leave it to the Creator to decide the destiny of any such blasphemer. When someone abuses any of my loved ones or uses a slur against them, they are basically accusing them of falsehood. It is often repeated in the Holy Scripture what a severe punishment awaits such people in the Hereafter.

If the readers are thinking that I am getting ready for the upcoming Friday sermon, then let me clarify, I have no such intention. I am a very sinful person and I have accumulated barely any good in my account of ‘good’. In my many regrets, another might be added. This one is not being able to meet a real man called Salmaan Taseer in person. The beginning of the New Year marks a painful reminder that Pakistan is a lot poorer without him. Being a keen observer of politics in my land of birth and elsewhere, I did disagree with a few of his political moves, but then it is only natural to have different viewpoints. This is about that occasion when Taseer’s voice resonated with that of an oppressed person. It elevated his status manifold perhaps overnight.

Amazingly, in this day and age, when information perhaps travels faster than the speed of light, there were people who virtually created a smear campaign against Mr Taseer and branded him as a blasphemer. I would ask those to revisit the very first word that was revealed to the Holy Prophet (PBUH0. Whatever little I read about Mr Taseer or saw of him on the tube made me an admirer of him and his clear thinking. His stand of the procedural aspect of the law was exemplary. What Mr Taseer emphasised and re emphasised was that we should not let anyone misuse the law by falsely accusing non-Muslims who are as much Pakistanis as Muslims are. Furthermore, he criticised the abhorrent mob style justice of people on the street against those who were merely accused on hearsay. Not repeating my pre-Friday sermon lines but the Holy Scripture has warned against such oppressors at multiple points.

As I said earlier, our emphasis is perhaps on the memorisation and not the meaning of the Scripture. Why else would some of us call a man who shoots an unarmed man twice his age from the rear while being hired to protect him a ‘ghazi’? This just leaves you utterly speechless. Or perhaps just those who left comments on the hastily created facebook fan page of that ghazi. If this was not enough, some groups of lawyers, who are supposed to uphold the sanctity of their profession, glorified a coldblooded murderer. If only the first word of the Holy Scripture could pierce through such thick skulls.

But wait the injury does not end here. The judge who sentenced the killer had to leave the country for security reasons. The family of the victim was harassed constantly and the son of Mr Taseer has been kidnapped and it has been over a year. Every day, the Taseer family members post comments on social media seeking prayers for his speedy return. What a shame that the only thing that is speedy in our land is accusation towards people and the ill-informed reaction after that.

You often wonder where is the closest wall to hit your head when you read about the so-called educated people comparing Mumtaz Qadri to another so-called ghazi, Illum Din. Both Illum Din and Qadri murdered two people in vigilante style. Both took the law in their own hands and both are equally guilty regardless of what their reasoning. The pamphlet written by Rajpal against the Holy Prophet (PBUH) did not diminish the holy stature one bit. My respect for IIlum Din would have been tremendous if he had invited Rajpal for a dialogue and offered him to read the Holy Book. On the other hand, Mr Taseer repeatedly explained his position. Ah, but who am I kidding. It would require some of our brethren to read. Needless to say we are extremely challenged in that area. My parting salute to a man called Taseer. May your spirit, your conviction and courage live forever. Hopefully, I get to meet with you on the other side along with my loved ones. Stay blessed.

Friday, December 28, 2012

The Tale That Never Ends

Original Article: Daily Times
Date Published: December 27, 2012
Original Link: http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2012\12\27\story_27-12-2012_pg3_4

It is often said that you can determine a person’s character by putting them under a test in their weakest moments. By that definition, a man emerged as a victorious gladiator from the gallows of Rawalpindi. A defenceless man, tried with malice and, of course, convicted in similar fashion. In an unprecedented manner, his family members were not allowed to attend his final rituals. His adversaries thought that his story would end right there, but as they say, there are stories that never end. There is no epilogue ever for such tales. lf I still sound unconvincing, take a look at any story you witness on the silver screen. The hero triumphs in the end and we exit the dark theatre with a bit of renewed hope, still believing in this world, as uneven, crooked and corrupt as it may be. At times, we see the hero perish in the end on that very screen, yet we emerge with renewed hope that it is all about inner strength. The body may very well turn into dust but hope never dies.

How often do you see a lady emerge in a highly chauvinistic and male-dominated society? But as they say again, where there is a will there is a way. A fairly young, traumatised, harassed and verbally abused woman somehow managed to rise in a fairly controlled society. People often comment on that meteoric rise yet fail to acknowledge the real reason behind it. In my usually humble opinion, the strength and courage ran in her blood. Any other woman in her shoes would have given up, but no, she was definitely different, made of a different metal, different nerves and a different vision. She was so different that many men were afraid of her and many were unable to stand her sheer guts. Therefore, after a failed attempt on her life in Karachi, the same people were successful. They gloated in glee and claimed victory. Wow, what a remarkable act of valour it was: one unarmed lady and the killers decided to hit her from the rear. Again, the same people thought that it was the end of the story.

So when these lines will be read, there is word on the street that a 20-something, political rookie, the son of that slain lady, will pick up the mantle and launch his formal career. The critics will rush to the usual judgment and claim that an amateur young man is there to get the vote of sympathy. Here comes the irony. Had his mother not been ruthlessly slain, the son would still be enjoying his youth. The young man loses his mother in a manner that is unparalleled but he does not go on some sort of a rampage of revenge, but instead chooses the path of his mother. He stands up and says, “Democracy is the sweetest revenge.” Branded and peddled as a ‘spoilt rich and out-of-touch young brat’ by his detractors, it sure seems like another man is about to embark on that thorny journey.

But wait a minute, his family is here and it is here to take advantage of this country. I simply ask what family we are talking about. A father, who happens to be the first president who has relinquished presidential powers rather than holding on to them? Two younger sisters, who have not said or done anything to defame this country but reiterated what their mother stood for? Thus, the usual scorn and snide remarks laced with poisonous venom will follow the rookie chairperson as well. Very simply speaking, history is about to repeat itself.

I encourage the readers to revisit some newspaper archives and see what was said in the 1970s, 1980s, 1990s and 2000s. What was said at that juncture is perhaps going to be repeated again, with a new twist and a new style. The words will change but the underlying message will remain the same. As wisely asked by an anchor on the idiot box, how many are out there who would follow the path of his/her grandfather or mother? I reckon there are very few. In the wake of the recent slaying of a voice of reason in the land of the pure, one can only be hoping for a miracle.

Since its inception, the country has been divided into two distinct categories: one that wants to give the people their right to elect and rule and the other that simply wants to rule over them. This is the real tussle and this is the real issue. The names will change, the characters will change, but the tussle will remain the same. This story will never end. Each era will bring a new face, a new name, but the tale will go on. But the point to remember is very few names have the ability to garner popular public support. Like it or not, it is entirely up to you.

The Meaningless Solution

Original Article: Daily Times
Date Published: December 20, 2012
Original link: http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2012\12\20\story_20-12-2012_pg3_6

 quickly hugged my second
grader who is always eager to go to school last Friday morning. As soon as I entered the freeway, I heard the radio giving out the annoying preamble of the ‘Breaking News’. By now, I have learned that it is rarely ever any good news that ‘breaks’. I was getting myself ready for yet another blast somewhere, when I heard the awful news of shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School. It was two people in the beginning, including the shooter. The story was still raw and details were still sketchy. By the time my 45-minute commute to the office came to an end, it brought the horrific news of the total of 28 dead. Turning the PC on in disbelief at work, my worst fears were confirmed. Another mentally sick person had struck, taking 20 children out in his rampage, not to mention seven adults, including his own mother.

My initial reaction towards the perpetrator cannot be penned here. Not proud of that verbal diarrhea, but as a parent of a seven-year-old, I could feel the agony of the parents of the victims. The sheer rage engulfed my rational side of the brain for a few moments. A coworker with family members in that part of the country started to call frantically to check on his little niece and nephew. Luckily, their school was a few miles away, but on a lockdown due to this horrific incident.

An emotional President Obama took to the podium that Friday night, appealing to the nation to come up with a “meaningful solution’ to the madness that repeats itself very frequently. As a citizen, I do not doubt his sincerity one bit, but looking at this hydra-headed menace, how can this nation grapple with it? Had it been possible, or probable, would this ugly episode repeat itself so frequently in the United States of America? What an irony, a country that goes thousands of miles away to protect other nations from their enemies, is unable to protect its own citizens from their own fellow citizens. From Oklahoma City onwards, these domestic terrorists strike at their own fellow citizens. And the media goes into its usual frenzy.

Notice how the focus shifts from the victims, whose lives are taken away for no reason, and most of the attention is diverted towards the assailant. It is the typical profile of a ‘disturbed young man’ and a ‘social recluse’ or a person with ‘psychological issues’. The underlying theme is: people, this is an anomaly, don’t worry, until the next incident unfolds and the cycle of denial, and the cycle of a so-called facade is repeated. How many anomalies, how many unusual are enough, no one knows and no one is willing to accept.

This problem is so pervasive, but in my humble opinion, deliberately tucked under the rug. The media as mouthpiece is culpable in painting it as an individual issue. Deep down, it is a societal issue. The real impediments towards any meaningful solutions are individual rights and liberties of the citizens. In an exchange with a coworker that ill fated day, I emphasised that all these so-called troubled young men ought to be airlifted and dropped into sub-Saharan Africa, the jungles of the Sunderbans, to the slums of Kolkata or perhaps somewhere in Sibi so that they could learn to appreciate their lives. All of them will get on their knees and beg to be transported back to the comfort of their cosy homes here in the US. They will start loving themselves and their fellow citizenry. It is all about perspective. When life and its daily challenges for survival hit you hard, that is the Eureka moment. You tend to appreciate your life only when you experience it from another person’s perspective who is less fortunate than you.

It is safe to say that all of us carry one form of depression or the other. Life is a strange business of needs and desires, haves and have-nots. Some cope with their depressions with turning towards God, others find refuge in drugs and alcohol. The ones with deep-rooted depression succumb to violence and harm others. In my dictionary, individual rights and liberties end the moment someone harms another individual physically. The law should be speedy, where incarceration, conviction and sentencing should be efficient. Individuals on death row for decades make a mockery of justice. The taxpayers fund their life terms behind bars. Yet this great nation is unable to grab the bull by its horns, so to speak.

In my humble opinion, the universal healthcare proposal should be amended to accommodate an annual psychiatric evaluation of all citizens. People should not be able to renew their vehicle registrations, pay their income tax, be allowed to vote, be able to obtain or renew their driver’s licence until they have clearance from their psychiatrist. This should be augmented with tougher firearm laws. It is time for this legislation to be passed and implemented in letter and spirit to avoid any additional massacres. Otherwise, the talking heads will keep on yakking and we will never have what the president alluded to as a meaningful solution to this horrific mess.

The Unsung Hero

Original Article: Daily Times
Date Published: December 13, 2012
Original Link: http://www.dailytimes.com.pk/default.asp?page=2012\12\13\story_13-12-2012_pg3_4

If you were to flip your currency note, you will find a statement in Urdu, which can be loosely translated as, “Earning an honest living is a form of prayer.” Not many people know someone who embodies that statement in real life. I do, or I guess I am compelled to say, I did, to be grammatically correct. It was a man who rose from very humble beginnings, yet remained humble at all times, a man who gave this scribe the love for reading as much as he did.

He went through perhaps 10 to 12 newspapers, four or five magazines and radio and television news like a sponge, almost every day without fail. His early morning walks, the strict exercise regimen and the newspaper reading routine were his staples. No matter how cold the weather was, his tenacity to fight the odds was exemplary. A workaholic at all times, he was always focused on his goal of earning an honest living for his family.

If this scribe was taught how to read and write by his mother and teachers at school, then this man really showed him what to read. He was deeply passionate about his career of four decades in banking but enjoyed politics immensely. He was a social magnet who immediately lit up social gatherings with his discussions and views. He could touch on any topic and people marvelled at his keen interest in poetry, the arts and music.

I saw many of his co-workers and staff members surprised to see him so simple and humble in real life. The man who had a wardrobe full of designer suits would be clad in a simple shalwar kameez at home and whom people addressed as ‘Sir’, ‘Sahib’ or very simply ‘Saab’ would be cooking on a Bar-B-Q grill at home.

He possessed a photographic memory about people and could easily recall the genealogy tree of someone within minutes. A hearty laugh would typically follow at the end of a discussion and often as a punch line, he would quote a couplet in Urdu. Very few people knew that he did not have any formal college degree, yet he could articulate and communicate far better than most highly educated individuals could.

A young man leaving Pakistan in the 1950s for Germany was a bit uncommon in those days. He shared those black and white photographs with me where he was beaming with smiles with his group of German friends. But someone somewhere had him destined to come back home to the Lyallpur of yesteryears. Hired as an apprentice in a Pakistani bank, he managed to climb the ladder with his sheer honesty and simplicity; it was mostly unheard of someone reaching a senior level post without any ‘personal connections’ or ‘foul means’.

I heard many stories from him about the people he met — celebrities and well-known figures — whether it was the late Prime Minister Bhutto, General Zia or the present president of Pakistan. It was in the early 1980s when he met our president in Dubai, before Ms Bhutto got married to him. There are photo albums of him and many Indo-Pakistan sports and film celebrities who went to Dubai in the 1980s. Dilip Kumar, Sunil Dutt, Imran Khan, Javed Miandad and many others come to mind. His all-time favourite actor was Dilip Kumar and he had a special liking for ghazals. Jagjit and Chitra Singh’s ghazals on audio cassettes were often found in the glove compartment of his cars.

“The excitement in your voice tells me it is another boy,” he said to me when I asked him to guess whether it was another grandson or a granddaughter. This was my last talk with him that I could really call a discussion. A few weeks later, I found myself pacing through long lines at some busy airports of the world. Approximately 30 hours later, I found my two brothers with swollen eyes at the Karachi Airport. The ride to our house was rather sombre. I rushed to meet my mother because there was something inside me that was getting uncontrollable. The pent up emotions for restless hours finally broke at her feet. I went to his empty room where everything was intact. I even slept in his bed, hoping that I would hear something from somewhere, maybe a term of endearment that he used for me when I was a child. How he had laughed heartily when at the age of eight I told him that I wrote a movie script in the pocket diary that he had gifted me. How he would beam with joy when a five-year-old me impressed the strict principal of the prestigious Catholic school I attended by imitating the chocolate hero, the late Waheed Murad. Or how silly I was when we would get into debates about my future and my career. How I was not as successful as he was. Because an apple may not fall far from the tree but some apples are not so lucky. I consider myself one of those rotten ones.

My simplest tribute to the man I know as my father is my abbreviated first name so that his name gets to live. When people address me by his name, it gives me immense joy and pride. But at the same time I wish he was around so he could see his own offspring’s scribbles in print. To some who would think how selfish of me to attribute a column to my own father, yes, I am selfish, because without him, there would not have been a me. All I can ask all of you is to overlook my little transgression and say a prayer to God for him.