REFERENDUM is over. Votes cast. The temporary permanent ink blotted on the thumb. Speeches, rallies, strikes, TV appearances. Over. But remnants of the rampant cloth attack still stand. Billboards with ‘YES’ plastered all over, with stories about why one should say ‘yes’, with pictures of sponsors, with names of billboard owners, with the same message over and over — still there. And they will remain there until decomposition takes over, and poles will be tangled in ropes, strings and cloth.
It is like people eagerly hoist the Pakistan flag before August 14 each year, but forget to take it off once the day and the occasion is over. The little paper flags strung along hang till they dissolve in air, the cloth flags, once clean and bright, droop till they tatter. For, no one cares to scale their rooftops again. No one thinks the flag symbolizes much anyway ... not after Independence Day is gone for the year.
Such a crystal clear mentality mirror that we refuse to even see it. We rarely unite with such patriotism, such force, and such dedication as we did in the pre-referendum days. Individuals, companies, multinationals of all shapes and sizes came together to support a leader, who, they believed, would bring about that specific change that none of his political predecessors has managed to date. Such devotion that the entire city of Karachi was attacked by the banner locusts, eating up any space in the air or on the ground.
Millions, crores spent — on what, you ask? On the ability to proudly say, ‘I supported him, you know. I spent Rs. xxxxx for the Referendum campaign.’ The campaign ingredients were banners, stickers and a lot of unwanted litter in an already litter-inundated city. But we are not even arguing about that, although in my opinion, that is a valid enough point deserving elaboration.
But we will move on, to look at all this from another perspective. We witnessed a singular performance of unity, of commitment to a ‘cause’, and the generosity, time spent and efforts were remarkable. Don’t know about you, but I was thinking, oh just imagining for nothings’ sake, that what if even half of the money spent was utilized to lift certain standards?
Maybe the Rs100,000 spent on a huge hoarding banner could buy beds for a public hospital ward where children have to share beds. Maybe some of the money could be used to buy a water cooler for those same children who battle recovery by drinking tap water in fly-infested glasses. Maybe they could have clean sheets, a fan and less shocking hygienic standards. Maybe some money could be spent on food for a month for those at Dar-ul-Sukoon who eat leftover shaadi food everyday for lunch and dinner.
Maybe some of the money the leading local fan manufacturer recklessly flung in could have gone into a school fund for kids who want to study but cannot afford to. Maybe some could go for the care of the mentally challenged individuals. Maybe some could go to organizations that treat patients for free for kidney or renal failure.
Maybe someone could plant 10 trees, make a park, make public toilets. Maybe some of the money could be spent on making a small house of bricks and cement for the old man and his six-year-old grand-daughter who live under plastic and cardboard sheets. Maybe they could get a fan, too, and some medicines for the burns the old man suffered while cooking some food. Maybe they could have spent some days without worrying about the means of the next morsel. Maybe she wouldn’t be driven out to beg. Maybe he wouldn’t be giving up on life and fearing each day.
Maybe bins could be placed around the city. Maybe, instead of making some odd, purposeless tiled structure, there could have been plants. Maybe the entire pavement could have been made.
Maybe the publicity would not have been as blatant or as in-your-face, but I was thinking ... weren’t you saying that you love your country so much that you want everyone to vote for a man who would do justice to your homeland? The place you love and cherish? Weren’t you overwhelmingly passionate about your patriotism by pleading that we vote for him because he would fix all the mess? Wasn’t it all in the interest of the country? For a better future, a better place and a better life — for all?
Wasn’t it?
And if it was, why is it so easy to spend all that without any ‘pressure’, but it hurts, it pinches when someone says ‘lend a helping hand to the social aspects’? Think about all that money, all that time and all that effort. Had even half of it gone in the right direction, Karachi would have been looking and feeling a lot different today.
We would have some people who would be recipients of what they can only call miracles — people donating without looking for benefits. We would have a cleaner place; we would have cleaner air with more trees and plants. We would have pavements instead of rock rubbles. We would have fulfilled some wishes of the needy. We would have a feeling, a downright belief that, yes, we are, indeed, a nation that can do so much on its own for its own. We would learn to ‘donate’ in the true sense, and reap the benefits as a whole, as opposed to our individual capacity. We would be proud to be in a city like that; proud to be a society that rose to the occasion and made a difference.
And yet, not one, not even one bothered to think of it like that. The goal was to continue being what we have become — shamelessly kneeling in front of power and swearing allegiance. Even if it lacks in sincerity, it is declared just to pave the road for selfish benefits.
This selfishness, this close-mindedness, this absolute devotion to a self-serving nature is what will drag us down. This transparent egocentricity is what has become our hallmark. The leader may be terrific and all those great words in a lexicon, but you, you failed in the basics. You failed because you didn’t even try; didn’t even think. And what is that one man going to do when you don’t even want to harbour the potential to be sensitive to others? Wave a magic wand?
We voluntarily exist in a manufactured solitary society where things are only done for the ‘self’. You will dump the daily household rubbish in the plot in front of your house — as long as it is not in your house. What about neighbours? What about cleanliness standards? What about co-existence? You will have a landscaped garden, but you won’t even plant a weed outside your house. You will wash your driveway and carelessly let the water flood out on the streets, but you will curse the neighbour when he does the same. You will do all there is to be done for yourself, but never think of others. Not with unadulterated sincerity.
We should be fearful of who we have become. Who we are. We should be ashamed. And, most of all, we should wonder why we never thought of what good we could do, and, instead, lashed out with a monetary viciousness all in the name of ‘He, Me, Myself and I’.
REFERENDUM is over. Votes cast. The temporary permanent ink blotted on the thumb. Speeches, rallies, strikes, TV appearances. Over. But remnants of the rampant cloth attack still stand. Billboards with ‘YES’ plastered all over, with stories about why one should say ‘yes’, with pictures of sponsors, with names of billboard owners, with the same message over and over — still there. And they will remain there until decomposition takes over, and poles will be tangled in ropes, strings and cloth.
