I am Pakistan
26/082010
Yes, and it’s because of the way I am.
I think I love my country, I’m not sure. I am a hypocrite. I am first to criticize it when I see its troubles, but not the first to act and do something about those troubles. And that, dear readers, is what Pakistan is all about. I quote Jinnah every once in a while to vocalize my supposed patriotism, but I don’t necessary follow his ideology. I pray five times a day and I fast during Ramadan but after Iftar I curse on the streets and lech at my friend’s sister.
I am from Karachi, and I hate Lahore. I am from Lahore, and I hate Pindi. I am from Balochistan, and I hate the rest. But collectively, I am Pakistan, so I just hate India. I hate India because they are my enemies. I know that because I read it on the Internet. Every time India achieves something, I pull out random statistics of banal information comparing how the Internet speeds in Pakistan are better, or how some obscure scientist developed something before India did. If India beats me in cricket, I make myself feel better with Facebook pages called “India may beat us at cricket, but at least we’re better looking” and get 300,000 people to “Like” it. I make fun of everything in India, but I ape the stuff I secretly like but would never admit to – like their films, their music and their game shows. I pay my singers very little and gatecrash their concerts so they don’t make money, then curse them when go across the border to greener pastures, and then beam with pride and tell everyone “he’s Pakistani” once he makes it in India.
And I hate America. But I want to go there. I don’t want to work too hard. But I still want to go there, because there are girls on the beaches wearing bikinis, and they will have sex with us. Those shameless whores. Thank God we keep them out of our puristic society. And I want to make money in America. Somehow. I hate that Indians are making it in America. What do they have that I don’t? Global CEO of Citibank – Indian. Head of Adobe – Indian. Head of Pepsi – Indian. And so many more. It makes my blood boil. I think I will play the “good looks” card again, because I am Pakistan. Those people must be feeding money under the table. Maybe I can make a crafty remark about their over-populated race. I’m sure I will get my friends laughing.
I am Pakistan, and that is what makes me arrogant. I can have an attitude. I might be doing well, just slightly well, but my head will be in the clouds. I might have just crossed 50 runs while I’m chasing a near impossible target of 287 in Bangalore, but after my next boundary, I am going to act smart and ask the bowler to “go fetch the ball”. I may be an album old, but I’m going to get cocky even while standing next to more accomplished musicians and personalities.
I am Pakistan and I am upset. Foreign policies prevent me from visiting their country. I can’t get visas, even though I am well traveled. Do I deserve it? No. I didn’t personally plant bombs anywhere. But you know what? I am also Islamic Rage Boy. That’s right. I scream at the smallest of atrocities and scream even louder at the largest ones. As far as doing something about them is concerned, I shout. I create groups and we protest. I am proficient at creating banners and signboards for people to carry during these parades of protest.
I am Pakistan and I am gun violence. I am the children that die and I am the women that are abused. I am the men that are pulled into war. I am Islam. In fact, I am more Islam than the rest of you. I use Islam, I use its scripture and I use its lessons and twist it to my own cause. I accuse those that are bad leaders and ignore (or kill) those that could do well. I love my country, yet my only way to express that is by hating everyone else. If you too are Pakistan, then you are not a brother. You are a competitor.
I am Pakistan, and I have no shame. The floods have ravaged my country and I am accusing Zardari of being ignorant. But, I too, am ignorant. I am the people that are sending aid to the unfortunate victims, and I am the people that are looting those trucks carrying the aid. Although I am Pakistan,I am just one person – I can’t change the world. I can’t help all the victims. And that is my belief. But, should anyone post cartoons of our Prophet, I will come together will all my Pakistani brethren (in a docile manner) and call to ban them.
And lastly, dear friends, I am the men, the women, the children and the law-enforcers that stood by making videos and clicking pictures when those boys in Sialkot were served a very strange yet common brand of our own vigilante justice. I, therefore, am a barbarian. And barbarianism is me. Just like load-shedding is me. Just like cricket is me. Just like corruption is me and just like extremism is me.
I am Pakistan. Yet, I am proud. And I ask you – should I be?
——
"The opinions expressed in this are purely sarcastic and are not, in any way, representative of all Pakistani people. We are a race of really, really good people who have, for a long time now, lost the way. And it is only getting worse. The writer has a great love for his country and is in pain after some recent tragedies that have hit the nation."
26/082010
Yes, and it’s because of the way I am.
I think I love my country, I’m not sure. I am a hypocrite. I am first to criticize it when I see its troubles, but not the first to act and do something about those troubles. And that, dear readers, is what Pakistan is all about. I quote Jinnah every once in a while to vocalize my supposed patriotism, but I don’t necessary follow his ideology. I pray five times a day and I fast during Ramadan but after Iftar I curse on the streets and lech at my friend’s sister.
I am from Karachi, and I hate Lahore. I am from Lahore, and I hate Pindi. I am from Balochistan, and I hate the rest. But collectively, I am Pakistan, so I just hate India. I hate India because they are my enemies. I know that because I read it on the Internet. Every time India achieves something, I pull out random statistics of banal information comparing how the Internet speeds in Pakistan are better, or how some obscure scientist developed something before India did. If India beats me in cricket, I make myself feel better with Facebook pages called “India may beat us at cricket, but at least we’re better looking” and get 300,000 people to “Like” it. I make fun of everything in India, but I ape the stuff I secretly like but would never admit to – like their films, their music and their game shows. I pay my singers very little and gatecrash their concerts so they don’t make money, then curse them when go across the border to greener pastures, and then beam with pride and tell everyone “he’s Pakistani” once he makes it in India.
And I hate America. But I want to go there. I don’t want to work too hard. But I still want to go there, because there are girls on the beaches wearing bikinis, and they will have sex with us. Those shameless whores. Thank God we keep them out of our puristic society. And I want to make money in America. Somehow. I hate that Indians are making it in America. What do they have that I don’t? Global CEO of Citibank – Indian. Head of Adobe – Indian. Head of Pepsi – Indian. And so many more. It makes my blood boil. I think I will play the “good looks” card again, because I am Pakistan. Those people must be feeding money under the table. Maybe I can make a crafty remark about their over-populated race. I’m sure I will get my friends laughing.
I am Pakistan, and that is what makes me arrogant. I can have an attitude. I might be doing well, just slightly well, but my head will be in the clouds. I might have just crossed 50 runs while I’m chasing a near impossible target of 287 in Bangalore, but after my next boundary, I am going to act smart and ask the bowler to “go fetch the ball”. I may be an album old, but I’m going to get cocky even while standing next to more accomplished musicians and personalities.
I am Pakistan and I am upset. Foreign policies prevent me from visiting their country. I can’t get visas, even though I am well traveled. Do I deserve it? No. I didn’t personally plant bombs anywhere. But you know what? I am also Islamic Rage Boy. That’s right. I scream at the smallest of atrocities and scream even louder at the largest ones. As far as doing something about them is concerned, I shout. I create groups and we protest. I am proficient at creating banners and signboards for people to carry during these parades of protest.
I am Pakistan and I am gun violence. I am the children that die and I am the women that are abused. I am the men that are pulled into war. I am Islam. In fact, I am more Islam than the rest of you. I use Islam, I use its scripture and I use its lessons and twist it to my own cause. I accuse those that are bad leaders and ignore (or kill) those that could do well. I love my country, yet my only way to express that is by hating everyone else. If you too are Pakistan, then you are not a brother. You are a competitor.
I am Pakistan, and I have no shame. The floods have ravaged my country and I am accusing Zardari of being ignorant. But, I too, am ignorant. I am the people that are sending aid to the unfortunate victims, and I am the people that are looting those trucks carrying the aid. Although I am Pakistan,I am just one person – I can’t change the world. I can’t help all the victims. And that is my belief. But, should anyone post cartoons of our Prophet, I will come together will all my Pakistani brethren (in a docile manner) and call to ban them.
And lastly, dear friends, I am the men, the women, the children and the law-enforcers that stood by making videos and clicking pictures when those boys in Sialkot were served a very strange yet common brand of our own vigilante justice. I, therefore, am a barbarian. And barbarianism is me. Just like load-shedding is me. Just like cricket is me. Just like corruption is me and just like extremism is me.
I am Pakistan. Yet, I am proud. And I ask you – should I be?
——
"The opinions expressed in this are purely sarcastic and are not, in any way, representative of all Pakistani people. We are a race of really, really good people who have, for a long time now, lost the way. And it is only getting worse. The writer has a great love for his country and is in pain after some recent tragedies that have hit the nation."
