The welcome and the blast
I GUESS we have to accept that we, the Pakistani people, are still stuck in the piree muridee mindset. How else to explain that the major metropolis of Karachi was cheerfully exposed to murder and mayhem despite tall talk about security? And for what? A political leader was returning to the city after a longish absence.
The welcome she received was the kind given only to a saint.Perhaps Benazir thought this was still the Pakistan of 1986, having been away for far too many years to understand that she was returning to a country where violence has become endemic.
But what happened to her party people here in Karachi? Couldn’t they smell trouble? All over the world, leaders today race to their destination on city roads at top speed to pre-empt murderous attacks by wacky or misguided individuals or groups with sick agendas.
Like her spellbound admirers, Benazir too must have been in a trance to agree to spend endless hours on Sharea Faisal.
I must admit that even a sceptical writer like me enjoyed the festive atmosphere created by her arrival. Lulled by the euphoria fanned by the excited TV channels, the normally preoccupied Karachiites went through their day and night with one eye on their TV sets, loving the vibrant welcome that revived memories of the city that was.
The city’s changes are not mirrored in the people’s attitudes and thinking, unfortunately. Surely it’s time the people changed too. How can we still go on living in our own make-believe world. In an era when science and technology are in the process of creating a somewhat more logical, rational and pragmatic mindset worldwide, we haven’t budged an inch from our obsession with heavenly souls and others we imbue with mystical attraction. The saints of Sindh have us in thrall deeply. Love and romance figured large in BBÂ’s welcome.
A turbaned rustic said he had a dream. In his dream Shaheed Bhutto asked him to go to Karachi to welcome his daughter, so here he was. Others, when asked if they weren’t afraid of getting pushed around or hurt, shook their heads with a smile. Their looks suggested that laying down their lives for her was a small price to pay to be in her vicinity.
For a political leader’s welcome, there was a total absence of any political slogans, nor did the banners and placards highlight issues and problems. Instead, there was utterly uncritical and unquestioning adoration for ‘our Quaid’. Even when provoked regarding her collaboration with a dictator, groups of jiyalas happily answered: ‘She’s doing it for democracy.’
Every second person celebrating her arrival expressed his conviction that his joblessness and financial difficulties would soon be over, now that the roti-kapra-makan lady was back.
The swelling human wave at the airport broke into song and dance sporadically and with abandon, as if there were no tomorrow. The crowd appeared lost in some dream world. What about their heroine’s corruption cases? Questioned on this by curious reporters, not one in that massive gathering bothered to counter the charges. Such mundane matters were irrelevant to them and they remained rapt in the magical aura that in their eyes surrounds their leader.
Only a strong spiritual fervour and abnormal veneration for their leader can explain the fact that the massed public on the roads suffered the sun, wind, hunger, thirst, lack of toilet facilities and other acute discomforts for close to 24 hours. Yet their exuberance and excitement never flagged. Benazir Bhutto’s arrival was pure drama. The TV channels of course went to town over it.
Just when I thought that the festive, buoyant welcome showed that, given half a chance, Karachi can display an exciting and happy face, the lethal bombs blasted away the prevailing euphoria.
Source: Dawn
Date:10/20/2007
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