Pakistan’s Call to Sons of Soil
A Desperate One!
By Jawad Raza Khan
It was 27thof Ramadan 1366 Hijri, 14th August 1947 when my father Mr. Jinnah proclaimed my birth. Looking back to the course of my nourishment my roots were found in this soil during the mid of 19th century, soon after the war of Independence 1857. Honestly speaking my seeds were with Khan of rivers (The Indus) and the Indus man since the very creation of this planet. My forefathers were passionate personalities from all professions and walks of life including Syed Ahmed Khan, Johar Brothers, Allama Iqbal,…………. till my founding father Mr. Muhammad Ali Jinnah.
When I opened my eyes in this world, I also came across my loved ones waiting for me, as any other new born experiences on reaching the planet. Events of infancy are usually impossible to remember, but my beginning saw something which is indeed difficult to forget “The Great Migration”. To be very precise, history repeated itself, after more than 1300 years and the land of sub-continent saw the events of Arabian land. I just can’t forget the scale of sacrifices rendered by my family during the course of migration; it had some sad but certainly proud feelings for me as I saw my family performing that dreadful journey and then kissing my forehead when meeting me on the border.
Early orphanage in form of departure of Muhammad Ali Jinnah couldn’t change my progression for magnificence as my care takers like Liaqat Ali Khan and Mohtarma Fatima Jinnah did appreciate the significance of initial smooth respiration for prosperous future ahead. Though death of Liaqat Ali Khan did give me a setback and I went into a bit of a rollercoaster but generally speaking I maintained the right course.
I was not at all a pampered child, with a golden spoon rather, my family worked untiringly hard to support me and ensure my healthy grooming. Although it took around 25 years to make rules and regulations for me (The Constitution), which in turn made me, experience some sour experiences but me and my family took all of them positively. Wars of 1948 and 1965 made me more robust to live with pride and dignity, on the other hand the debacle of 1971 was indeed learning through hard way. My enemies claimed disarmament of ideology but I am still surviving with exceptional health in so many areas as a state, even after that catastrophe.
The childhood experiences (three wars) made me real Street Smart, as I have to be that way, to survive in this world of vultures. The young blood running in my veins in form of motivated generations who saw my birth and the period of infancy put me on a fast track.
When I was in my late twenties and mind you in the context of nations, “this is still childhood” I was undoubtedly an extremely prominent component of the Muslim world. The western world was noticing my vigour, valour, passion and capability to lead Muslims all around the globe. Their notice turned into fear when I started developing muscles along with brains. My guardians, by my maturity, became the largest standing Muslim Army with nuclear capability.
When you are rich (with mineral resources such as coal, salt, gold and energy) along-with a strong purpose to exist (The ideology), backed up by solid potential for complete food security for your family (thanks to the world’s best irrigation system), then people around you are always looking for an opportunity to pull your legs. The same started to happen with me in late nineties, my passion to lead Ummah was turned into my disaster by the outsiders, but what really pinches me is my own people turning against me; they started defaming my ideology by portraying it as a cancer for the so called modern and progressive westerners; And honestly speaking I became more worried about my father’s vision, which was entirely distorted, that to, in the name of Islam; I saw young generation discussing me as Jinnah’s mistake; I heard kids more enthusiastic about events like Halloween than my birthday; Mothers busy watching neighbour’s media than training own children; Astonishingly I saw every immoral activity in the good offices of state going on with full swing with my father’s portrait watching all this with complete silence but desperation.
All above does not happen very quickly but indeed it happened unfortunately very strongly, right now I feel despairing, and to be precisely candid I can say with authenticity that I have been robbed by my own people, not only economically, but morally, politically and above all ethically. Not a single segment of my society is now ready to pour in any positive contribution towards my ailing health.
Please let me talk to my young generation now! And you my future got to listen to me, as what I will say now, is the real picture.
It may sound a bit of self-praising, but if I realistically draw a comparative statement from “then” and “now” it will not at all be that gloomy, as now you discuss and react. These are straight facts with just no exaggerations, and I am the witness to the people I had with me, responsible for my initial grooming.
In 1947 when my minimum expenditures were calculated it came to 40 crore but I had in my kitty only half of it, thanks to Nizam of Hyderabad who rescued the newly created State bank of mine by doing the needful.
In 1947, there were three cement factories now, I have more than 30, I use to import motorcycles now I make cars planes ships and tanks, I inherited only 4 textile mills but now I own 500 of them. It is hard to believe that my young generation believes the propaganda by my, and their enemies without taking into account that we own the second largest salt mine, fifth largest gold reserves and not to forget the 2nd largest earth filled dam on the planet.
My children! They call me terrorists and u know who is the only Non-Christian who had the honour to receive the highest award of the catholic world (Knight of the Order of Holy Sepulcher, he was none other than a Pakistani Dr Asad for promoting good will between Christians and Muslims.
I came out with head high in 1980 when a super power tried to fiddle with my sovereignty and now another superpower in 2011 is doing the same: God be with me and you, my children; the fate will be the same again this time as well. The game is already on and promos are in media as well in shape of their Bankruptcy and deplorable economic condition.
Being one family, I hope I can take liberty from you, especially being the head of the family. You must be having many reservations regarding what future I gave you all and opportunities in careers and professions to ensure your growth for competing internationally. You must be having lots of cribs, lots of disappointments, must have met lots of failures as well and at the same antagonized by the unfriendly environment around you.
My children! You must understand th
e difference between the State and the Government; citizens own the state and in turn Government own citizens. If you will not own me how the people governing me can own you.
Sorry to say buddies, you don’t vote; you are not united; your faith is limping; you are not following the path of discipline; all basics are deteriorating and you still say that I am at fault! Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair to me?
If the answer is in affirmation then let’s promise on my birthday, which is fortunately falling in the month of Ramzan as the day of my creation that this fourth generation of mine will take me to the place my Father Mr Jinnah wanted to see me.
Happy Birthday to me!