my anger through fists, into walls;

This is a post by Nuhzat Saadia Siddiqui from her blog “hooray for the 21st century;” (The blog is on my blogroll) I loved what she wrote, especially since her expression beautifully conveys what so many people are feeling at the moment. What is really pertinent about this is that Nuzhat is not a political person, but has, like most of us, been sucked into the current political situation and the many questions that come with it. I hope you like it!

Three days ago, while on my way home from work, I saw a banner in Model Town congratulating the ‘Lion of the Land’ (Musharaf) on saving the nation and the country with a sensible decision to impose state of emergency. For a second, I paused and wondered whether to take the garishly bold text seriously or to dismiss it as sarcasm. These days, everyone’s a cynic with his or her opinion about the current political upheaval in the land, so I tend to take every statement condemning or praising Musharaf with a massive pinch of salt. But this banner got me thinking: would it have been allowed to stay up if it condemned rather than praised Mr. General President? Maybe, maybe not. I have seen instances of tolerance and moments of impatience in the man who made a brand out of Enlightened Moderation, so even now, I am rather confused about how to comment on his mercurial behavior.

To be absolutely honest, my apathy kicks in when I hear about political fiascos these days. It is my version of Ginsberg reaching for his feather boa whenever he heard the word ‘democracy’. I don’t care about political tantrums and intrigues. I could not nod twice about the hypocritical, manipulative scheming of the likes of BB, Main Mian, The General President and Ran Khan et cetera. All I know for sure is that I am a citizen of this country. I am the common man everyone wants to talk about but not to. I am a part of the nation that has very spectacularly been look over than looked at by verbose but lacking civil and military dictators. I am the ‘awam’ that has been let down so many times it has mastered the art of passive aggressive nonchalance. So what do I understand from the current situation? What do I want?

I want a revolution. I want the inside of our heads and hearts out, finally, for good. I want the hungry to be fed and the naked to be clothed. I want the shamed to be awarded the grace they deserve. I want promises fulfilled. I want my say in the ideals that should be making a better future for this country. I want those who toil twelve hours a day, bare-foot and thirsty under the sun in the fields to have the same right. I want us to be informed about our rights and then be allowed the freedom to exercise them as well. I want to fulfill our duties and I want everyone in the football team in Islamabad to do the same. I want water and education, I want light and protection. I want doubt, religious paranoia and fear of every stranger to be exorcised out of me by some sensible souls who do it in halves, but hope to make it a whole one day. I want to not be trivialized by the world community and the government, and I want to not be the sensational piece of breaking news for the local media. I want some piece and quiet, and I want my damn country back.

Enough, as they say, is enough.

They are surely wiser than us. Look at them burning gold into their history pages while we collect the ashes.

I want the flame, not the residue.