Ever since Pakistan’s inception, we haven’t been able to decide what are the issues that hurt us the most
A television news reporter was collecting views of the people on the street on the only burning issue in Pakistan: should or shouldn’t our president remain in his uniform? Everything else in the country is praiseworthy. No robberies. No murders. No gang rapes. No corruption. No hunger. No poverty. The only paramount problem that bothers each one of us is president’s remaining or not remaining in wardi (uniform).
The news reporter spotted an old woman on the street. She was quarrelling with a vendor on the price of the tomatoes. The reporter approached her and asked, “Would you like to see the president without wardi?”
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” the old lady said. “No woman would like to see a man without clothes.”
“I am sorry. You have misunderstood my question,” the reporter said. “What I want to know is, should or shouldn’t our president take off his uniform?”
“No, he should not,” the woman replied.
“Why not?” the reporter asked.
“Won’t you feel disgraced to see your president moving around wearing nothing?” she exclaimed.
The reporter thought it prudent to leave the lady quarrelling with the vendor over the price of tomatoes. He moved away towards a cobbler who was mending a shoe under a banyan tree. The reporter asked, “How would you prefer the president, with or without his uniform?”
The cobbler replied, “His wearing or not wearing uniform is of no consequence to me.”
“How can you say that?” the reporter asked.
“Now that the president is wearing uniform, I am mending stinking old shoes,” the cobbler replied. “When he won’t be wearing his uniform, I’ll still be mending stinking old shoes.” The bewildered reporter said, “You sound philosophic.” The cobbler looked straight in the eyes of the reporter and said, “I have taught philosophy to postgraduate students in Afghanistan.”
The reporter shuddered. He collected his camera, turned around, and left. He glanced in every direction to find an interviewee. He saw a group of maulvis (clergy) moving in his direction. He asked an elderly maulvi, “Why do you insist that the president should remove his uniform.”
The maulvi promptly replied, “We do not want a fauji (military) president.”
“Aren’t you making things easier for the generals?” the reporter asked. “In what way?” the maulvi asked.
“Every time a general takes over the country he would remove his uniform to become the legitimate ruler of Pakistan,” the reporter said. “Then, there won’t be an end to the generals’ taking over this country from time to time.”
A young maulvi said, “He is a shaitan (satan) in the guise of a man. Don’t listen to him.”
They hurriedly disappeared in a close by narrow lane. The reporter realized that the material he was gathering was not good enough for a 30-minute documentary on the uniform of the president. He entered the interweaving streets, small and congested. He spotted a man sitting alone on the pavement in front of a not so good looking a house. The reporter kneeled down, focussed his camera on the man, and asked, “Are you aware that our country is beset with a gigantic problem?”
The lonely man raised his head, and casually looked at the reporter. Without uttering a word he lowered his head. The reporter asked, “Do you know anything about the problem this country is presently facing? It pertains to the uniform of our president.”
The man remained silent, as if he had heard nothing. The reporter looked at him searchingly, and realized that he was perturbed, and was lost in his thoughts. He went a step closer to him and said, “Surely, you look worried about the intricate problem of our country. Now tell me, would you prefer to see our president in uniform or without it?”
The man kept sitting like a statue made of flesh and bones. The reporter perched in front of the man in distress and said, “You are not alone. The entire nation is worried over the issue of the uniform. Catharsis is necessary. You must give vent to your feelings. Say, should or shouldn’t President General Pervez Musharaf take off his uniform?”
Suddenly a middle aged woman emerged from the house, and said, “Surely he is worried, but he is not worried about the uniform issue.”
“I thought he was a conscientious patriot who was worried over the greatest issue ever faced by our country,” the reporter asked. “Then, what bothers him?”
“It is the 15th day that his daughter was abducted by the sons of the elite,” the distressed woman caught hold of the reporter and asked: “Do you know how it feels when your daughter is abducted and gang raped?”
The reporter felt frightened. He stepped aback.
The agitated woman went closer to the reporter and said, “Ask me, how it tears apart when your daughter is kidnapped. Ask me, how it ruins, how it destroys you from within. I am her mother.”
