Heaven Whispers

Fear. An eerie night brings fear into my mind, my imagination and my thought. Having spent my whole life searching for the truth- the truth which will set me free- the truth that will guide me- the truth that will bless me, I have even lost count- lost count of the lies, deceptions and shams that I, so blatantly, have committed to find the ultimate reality.

Figures, memories and emotions, are all running through the narrow tunnels of the grotesque, yet tiny, human mind that I possess. But aren’t they the creation of my own mind- the mind which has made me do things- the mind that has decided my fate- the mind that has shaped the reality- the mind that has formed the concept of ME. Do I even exist? Does the reality hold? What is reality? Who defines it? What is real and what is abstract? How do we even know that the person that we are today even exists or not in the universe? Or even does the universe exist or is it the mere thought of our minds? If this universe exists than God must have made it. But then God- What is God? Is it a simple explanation of things that are beyond our imagination or a real entity? Did God create reality or did we form the reality of God?

Silence. Deep silence. Far away from the shores of imagined realism, yes imagined realism, come whispers- whispers that pose these questions- whispers that compel me to find the answers- whispers that leave me clues to discover the veiled secrets, to find the ultimate truth. Yet as I move to unravel this vagueness, I find it impossible to do it without lies, without imagination and without deception. Ironical as it may seem, I am probing for truth by lying; I am searching for reality with abstract imagination. Still I move on- I move on in the hope of silencing these whispers- I move on in the hope of unearthing the mysteries- I move on in the hope of discovering I. I move on.

“Stop.”, Whispers again.

Over my shoulder I can hear whispers, calling my name, trying to stop me. Fear again. Questions running through my mind, yet fearful and terrified enough to not look backwards was I. My feet freeze again, my body stands still, my mind- my mind is battered by a barrage of fear, apprehension, curiosity and queries. Wind starts to blow; I can see it is changing direction now.

“Denial is not the best resort. Reality exists. God exists. I exist.”

“Move forward. I want answers.”

“I must stop, or it may be too late”

My mind is forcing me to budge forward, my feet not willing to do so. Fear running through my veins again- fear of the answers that might lie ahead- fear of the Reality- fear of losing heaven. Yet I want to move onwards to search for the ultimate truth. But fear is a potent, compelling and persuasive power. I have given up. I am not I, I am what heaven whispers. I am reality.

Silence

Silence. Complete silence encompassing every corner of the sea- a sea of hope and promise, a sea heralding the felicity. A part of the vast ocean filled with the water flowing down from the streams of tears, having their source in the glaciers of a battered mind. I am so worthless for I have tried to escape this silence- I have tried. I have tried to challenge the gigantic waves of this gargantuan ocean- I have. The island of success would never come closer; never close enough for me to fight away my fears.

Yet I started my journey- a journey, which I knew, won’t take me anywhere. But I had to put my courage to test. I just had to. The path was not easy, but I was not going to surrender. Hope was the foundation upon which I was building my empire of dreams. Dreams that might not appear to be of much importance to a normal person, but they were everything to me.

Hoping that one-day they’re going to reach the shores of realism. Expecting that all the dreams, all the fantasies will turn into reality. I jumped into this unfathomable ocean. Fighting against all odds, combating my own fears, defending the castle of my dreams. I was not going to hold back. The first sign of life I saw was a bird- a bird that was flying up so high. A bird filled with love, flying far away from me. I was avid; I needed something to fill my appetite for atonement.

Thunder. Thunder that broke the silence. Lightning crashed into that little bird. It fell right next to me. It was alive- alive and even more energetic and vibrant than me. It gave me strength- strength to fight the waves, strength to wipe away my tears. It made me realize- a realization of the verve I had, a realization that I could make it through all the ups and downs of my life.

Water came down from the clouds of contentment, water that washed heartrending thoughts away from my mind. I felt I was someone else, I felt complete, I felt contented.

Clock kept on ticking. Time was moving forward, or was it? Wasn’t the time moving backwards and we budging forward? Time… Time was going to change the course of my existence. For the first time I felt that I could make it. Was I wrong? Was I dreaming? I didn’t know. I just kept on augmenting my vigor from that bird- the bird that had taught me how to realize my dreams, how to defend them, how to find the islands of success. With winds pushing me away from the shores, with thunders deafening me, with lightning making me blind, I continued because I knew I had that bird.

That bird became my friend, my cohort, and my companion. It was my strength. It was my verve. It was my reason of existence. If it were not for that bird, I would have lost hope. I kept on trying, kept on moving. I could see the shores of realism right ahead. Was it an illusion? I hoped it wasn’t. Hope was the only thing that bound that bird and me together. We were so close to reality yet so far. Time was running out. Thunders were louder. Lightning was crashing. Windstorms were gaining strength.

I was not ready to give up but the bird just could not weather the storm- a storm that had united us- a storm that had awakened me- a storm that had given me hope that I could make it. It had left. It had left me amidst the cruel world of my own imagination. It had made me realize that I could not make it. It had betrayed me. It had given up on our dreams. It had made reality seem far away. It had lost me in the ocean of imagination. It had…

Lightning crashed and I was alone again. I was awake. I had given up on my dreams, aspirations, and fantasies. I had lost. I had realized that dreams never existed, that love never existed and that time never existed. It had made me realize that I did not exist- I was not the same person anymore. I was not I. I was mere chimera of what used to be reality. I was dead.

Silence. Silence again…

Democracy in Pakistan: Myth or Reality

The political environment of countries having colonial background is turbulent, evolutionary, and chaotic to say the least. From coasts of South Africa to Himalayas in South Asia, country after country has been marred by the political and social unrest. While many attribute it to the factors and policies of the governments that came into power after the country’s creation, I continue to believe that some of this instability may be linked with the colonial psychology prevalent in the ruling elite of these highly exploited nations. Highly marginalizing institutions in these countries continue to make sure that income and power disparities are here to stay.

Pakistan has been a victim of foreign sanctions and enormous criticism from the so-called advocates of democracy since the time of its inception. A fact that goes unnoticed undetected and remains to be underlined is that considering the volatile geo-political and socio-economic environment of Pakistan, it has been necessary for the military to intervene at certain stages of history in our country. The ground realities continue to remain the same and the feudalist system continues to dominate and exploit the already poor faction of the society. Therefore we need to further look into the minor details that amalgamate into decisive factors that shape our country’s democratic future.

First of all the fundamental reason that most of the critics tend to overlook is the fact that institutions and socio-economic structures that govern Pakistan have not been changed entirely since partition in 1947. British created these systems to exploit the local population and left with these structures and institutions lingering on. Faces have changed but system has not. From East India Company to the current ruling elite of Pakistan, the two hundred year old history has much in common.

The ruling elite of Pakistan which consists of feudal lords, bureaucrats and military has its own vested interests. As far as democracy in Pakistan is concerned it has never been there. A brief look at the history of Pakistan’s parliament would reveal that not a single member of parliament has been from a middle-class family. The so-called democracy runs in a few highly esteemed families who own the lands or factories. The middle class and lower class have been exploited again and again by the elite so much so that there is a huge chasm between them and the bourgeoisie class now. It’s in the interest of ruling elite not to let the masses get educated. It is, therefore, made sure behind the closed doors of Parliament that no such policy is developed which enables the masses to be educated enough to differentiate between the right and wrong. The consequence is that peasants of such landlords are forced to vote for their respective landowners. Once in power they exploit and subjugate the people who have voted for them. Self interests are given the highest priority even above the country. The cycle continues.

Some people believe that Islam can be blamed for the absence of true democracy in Pakistan. The difference lies in the definition of democracy. Islam promotes democracy in a way that all the important decisions are taken by the people who know what is in the best interests of the masses, people who can think rationally and people who can think above themselves. This is something that hasn’t been happening in Pakistan, and that has lead Pakistan to current state of affairs. If democracy is all about giving the voting rights to uneducated, subjugated, marginalized and exploited people who can not differentiate between right and wrong, than I am afraid we can not expect any change in the socio-economic structure of Pakistan. Faces will keep on changing from Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto to Benazir Bhutto and from Nawaz Sharif to Shahbaz Sharif but families will remain the same. The cycle will continue until there is a revolution or a military dictator who is willing to go against his own institution for betterment of the country. Till than we can sit in our luxurious homes and criticize Pakistan for not being a "Democratic State".