Doting on Pakistan is apparently a heinous crime in India. Why else would the Uttar Pradesh government slap sedition charges on 67 Kashmiri students in Meerut for cheering the Pakistani cricket team and chanting innocuous slogans like Pakistan Zindabad? When asked by a young student to share his views on the issue in Barkha Dutt’s show Political Roots, senior Bhartiya Janta Party (BJP) leader, Chandan Mitra exclaimed,

“Anybody who lives in India, breathes the air of this country and raises a slogan like Pakistan Zindabad, should be legally persecuted and charged with sedition.”

“Miyan Musharraf eik Hindu attankwad nahi karta hai. Par Miyan Musharraf, kaan khol kar sun lo, jis din Hindu attankwad aayega na, us din duniya ke nakshe se Pakistan ka namon nishan mit jayega.” (Miyan Musharraf, a Hindu doesn’t believe in terrorism. But Miyan Musharraf, listen to me carefully, the day Hindu terrorism is born, Pakistan will be wiped off the world map.)

“Lamhon ne khata ki thi, sadiyon ne saza payi.” (A mistake of a few seconds has brought punishment for centuries.)

“Oh Jinnah sahib? Suna hai ke woh Nehru ki takkar ke thay.” (Oh, Mr Jinnah? I have heard that he was quite the equivalent of Nehru.)

‘”Dukh kis ka hai? Dukh iss baat ka hai ke jis world view ko le kar hum saath se aath saw saal sath rahay, woh zawiya hum se chin gaya.” (What pains me the most? What pains me the most is that the world view that we had and spent 700-800 years together with, was stolen from us.)

During our Aman Chaupal initiative, where we invite a representative from Pakistan to interact with students in India, this time I got the opportunity to meet Mr Aamir Nawaz. Nawaz is the president and artistic director of the MAAS Foundation, a leading theatre group of Pakistan which showcases plays on several social themes. One of their prominent themes is Indo-Pak issues. As a part of the Aman Chaupal, we showed the video of one of MAAS’s plays to students of the South Asian University (SAU), which was followed by a discussion on the theme of the play. The play, named Permasher Singh, was based on the partition. Whether our grandparents had migrated or not, partition or the ‘memory’ of partition has been inculcated in all of us through history books and culture. However, it is sad that the ‘memory’ has only been used to sow hatred. Both the play and the discussion challenged the popular narrative of partition. It compelled us to think how we should perceive it today and what we need to do with the memory of partition. The play portrayed the complexities, contradictions and the clash of communities and people’s conscience at the time of partition. It explored the different factors that led to people committing atrocities against the people of other communities – the idea of avenging the merciless killing and rape of one’s own kin and the suspicions that people across the border are mercilessly killing people of their community. There was a wave of hatred and insanity and it was virtually impossible not to get swept by that flow. Anyone who tried to act in favour of humanity was considered insane. But despite this, there was a man named Permasher Singh, who rose above it all and saved the life of a Muslim boy named Akhtar. This boy reminded him of his own son named Kartar who was probably killed in the riots. Singh believed that all kids are the same and that they are all children of the same god. But as expected, the people of his community and his own kin had problems with his new affection for the boy. It was even suggested to him to convert the boy to Sikhism but he refused to do so. They developed a beautiful bond, similar to father and son, but then Singh decided to send him to Pakistan to his family. He took Akhtar to the border but when the Pakistani soldiers saw him, they shot him. The question posed at the end was:

“Whose child was Akhtar, India or Pakistan?”

“He was the child of humanity.”

 “A country is made of history, geography, politics and economy. We cannot change the history and geography but we can change the politics and economy. We need to take a decision whether we want an economy of prosperity or an economy of poverty. Till now, we only have an economy of poverty.”

 “The memory of partition needs to become invalid now.”

Saadat Hassan Manto (1912-1955) is a name synonymous in the annals of Urdu literature. Considered among the greatest contemporary Urdu short story writers of the 20^th century, he has left a legacy that stretches far and wide. Manto’s greatest gift was his ability to depict the reality of society with such ease that he would leave the reader mesmerised and in utter awe. His attention to minor details and his signature style of description was second to none. Manto was a realist and a puritan who hated hypocrisy in every given way. Manto was a household name for me, virtue of my mother being his daughter. The name of ‘Manto Abajaan’ echoed in my ears from a very early age. He was not someone for me to discover or look for, he was very much part of my conscience. As an eight-year-old, I distinctly remember his readings being staged in the Goethe Institute by the Ajoka Theatre group in Lahore where now ChenOne stands alongside Hafeez Centre. Famous personalities like Uzma Gillani are embedded in my memory, reading stories like Tetwal ka Kutta and others on a sultry November evening echoing the end of the autumn season. Having grown up in an environment where the mention of Manto was synonymous with Urdu short story writing, there was always a question mark in my mind over his writings being very controversial. I had all the access in the world to his books and was never stopped from reading his works whether in Urdu or English translations that followed in the early 1990’s to early 2000’s. I always wondered what made him so controversial and why a particular segment of society was vehement on calling him a ‘Fahaashi’. Lacking a clear understanding as a youngster, I started reading his stories well into my early 20’s. It was then that I realised, the genius of the man and the wizardry in his stories. As a reader, his writings projected the harsh reality of the society, which we now live in. I felt the intricacies in his writings were rather touching; his attention to issues that were sensitive in nature heralded the greatness of the man. Being termed a ‘Fahaashi’ was something very hard for me to digest, but with the passage of time I realised that he is a public figure open to criticism and acclaim. The more I read about him, the more I marvelled at his ability to foresee the future and the direct relevance he commands in every era. I have always heard from my mother, that Manto was a very sensitive man, and his persecution and boycott by the literary masses and public at large did impact him. He was denied the right to earn a livelihood in a society that persecuted him for his writings that perpetuated the grim reality of society. The persecution and boycott did not stop Manto from unleashing his creativity and repertoire which was viewable in his writings till the very end. Manto’s observation skills and directness of his language, while writing, were arguably second to none. A humanist par excellence barring his alcoholism, he was proud and arrogant in nature, which was a virtue of his talent. He never augured faith and beliefs into his friendships. Manto forged bonds with people from all walks of life, irrespective of faith, and examples of that are Ashok Kumar, Shyam and Pran. Manto’s uniqueness lay in calling a spade a spade, and would not budge one bit from what he wrote. Outspoken and brash in nature, this made him susceptible to attack from all quarters which as a result led him into trouble amongst the literary elite of that time. He was a rebel, who had formed his own niche of writing, and was unique in every given sense of the word.

The first time I moderated comments, for the blogs section of The Express Tribune, I learnt a sad truth; people have unabashed hatred for one another. I couldn’t believe until I saw it myself. Perhaps I was living in a bubble, I thought we had come a long way from partition and that Pakistanis and Indians had learnt to coexist. I didn’t think that Muslims and Hindus cringed at the very mention of the other. It wasn’t long before, I started moderating comments flooding in from around the world and, my idealistic bubble burst. Our blog readers belong to the educated class. These are people who have the capacity to read pieces of writing and then partake in a healthy, intellectual debate. More often than not, this debate turns into an emotional rant of who did what in 1947, who said what in British India, whose criminals are worse in the war on terror and which country is better than the other in the eyes of the Western media. Everyone brings up their defensive guards and comes up with the worst possible things you can say to hurt each other… and all for what? There is absolutely nothing wrong with taking part in a discussion and expressing your opinion in a comment. You are an educated individual and you have the right to have your opinion heard. But is it absolutely necessary that to make your point valid, you have to demean the person you are arguing with? If the article is about the sexual abuse of young children, do you have say that my country is better because the incidents of sexual abuse are lesser than that in your country? How does that, in any way, make sexual abuse any less horrendous? Open your minds a little and talk about the incredibly serious topic at hand that needs more attention than mere comparative statistic of crimes. Also, my dear commenters, not every person who manages to prove you wrong is ‘paid’ by some secret service agent belonging to your ‘rival’ country. No one is paid to humiliate you; all of you do that completely on your own. If you do not like what someone is saying, then come back with a strong argument; don’t accuse them of being bought by this agency and that agency. To my dear Indian commentators I would like to say, Gandhi was a man of stature on his own, you don’t need to belittle Jinnah to make Gandhi seem any better than he was. And to my dear Muslims I would like to say, if you claim that Islam is a religion of peace then why do you not feel the urge to defend it by practicing it? By bringing up acts committed by those of other faiths, saying ‘look they’re just as bad as us’ you are not doing Islam any favours! My question to these commenters is: what is the point of us being educated when our minds remain small as ever? What was the point of us studying history in school when we cannot learn from the mistakes of our forefathers? They say, with education comes awareness and tolerance, but what is its purpose if we still fail to look beyond borders, religion, colour, race and language? Perhaps, I was too naive in the first place, to think that the enmity between India and Pakistan was only limited to the cricket pitch. I was wrong to think that maybe, younger generations will rise above the divide our forefathers created decades ago. I was wrong, because judging from the disgust emanating from the words of our literate lot, Pakistan and India will always remain the kind of neighbours that only rise when the other’s head is deep in the ground.

Imran Khan has repeatedly insisted that the revolution he is advocating will be peaceful. Maybe, that is why it has not materialised as a revolution. Peaceful revolution is an oxymoron; a contradiction unto itself. Hans Kelsen theorises in The Pure Theory of Law that societies are built around a Grundnorm, a basic norm, that all of the society’s customs derive out of. A revolution simply changes this Grundnorm. The French Revolution replaced the absolute rule of the monarchy with democratic ideas of citizenship. The Iranian Revolution replaced monarchy with an Islamic republic. The Cuban revolution replaced a dictator with a communist regime. The Bolshevik revolution in Russia led to the creation of the Soviet Union. None of these revolutions were peaceful. All the countries that we now look towards as being civilised and orderly have reached the equilibrium they find themselves in after years of infighting and violence. America was created after going to war with the British. A century later, the country nearly tore itself apart with a bloody civil war and another century later, the country went through a mass uprising and unrest with the civil rights movement. Last week, streets all over America were shut down by people protesting against systematic racism in the country. The protests were sparked by two separate incidents. The first was the decision of a grand jury not to send the case of a white police officer shooting an unarmed black teenager to court. The second was the decision of a grand jury in New York not to send the case of a white police officer choking an unarmed black man to death in Staten Island to trial. The locations for people to gather were announced online. The hashtag #ShutItDown started trending, and people did the rest. There was no politicisation of the affair; the leaders emerging from these protests are concerned citizens with no political aspirations or ulterior motives. Similar to the Arab Spring, the protestors have deliberately distanced themselves from any particular personality. Nobody is sure how these protests will play out. There are no plans A, B and C. In Pakistan, Imran is not leading a revolution; arguably, he is the only thing standing between Pakistan and a revolution. Imran has provided an outlet within the system to allow people to blow off steam without revolting against the system. His movement is now serving as an exit valve in the system itself. In Ancient Rome, on one of the days at the festival of Saturnalia, slaves were treated well and they were allowed to make fun of the aristocracy by putting up satire plays. The day allowed the slaves to release all their anger towards their masters. Shouting ‘GoNawazGo’ achieves the same purpose for many people in Pakistan. Hope is the opium of the masses in Pakistan. In every new saviour they are promised better days. It is the promise that keeps them believing. It is the hope that precludes absolute anarchy. The illusion of chaos keeps actual chaos at bay. Newspapers are riddled with news about people committing suicide and/or killing their entire families because they could not afford to feed them. I wonder, what is stopping these people from doing the same to other people? The mass movement against the status quo was not Imran’s initial intention when he set out for Islamabad. The emergence of the movement has left Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaaf’s (PTI) leadership confused as well. Enamoured by the support, they overplayed their hand leaving them with no bargaining chips. Despite all the talk of revolution, the incongruity in PTI’s position is that they want to work within the current system. Their problems are with the personalities in the system, not the system itself. They are not seeking a revolution at all, they just want a change of faces. Their ‘revolution’ has been reduced to a clash of personalities and egos. Nobody is even attempting to argue for a change in the Grundnorm itself. What is the Grundnorm of Pakistan? Now that is a Pandora’s Box one should stay clear of. Whatever ideas people had about it, they built a system around it. There is a constitution and a system of governance based on the trichotomy of powers of the judiciary, the legislature and the executive. PTI not only accepts the Grundnorm but also all that is built around it. The idea of revolution, as tempting as it is, is being misattributed. This is no revolution. There is no such thing as a peaceful revolution. For every Mandela, there was the Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK). For every Gandhi, there was a Bhaghat Singh. For every Jinnah, there were Maulana Muhammad Ali and Maulana Shaukat Ali Jauhars. Pakistan has never seen a revolution. For everyone advocating going back to the Pakistan of 1947, we are pretty much still in the Pakistan of 1947. Nobody wants a revolution, most people want a change that would suit them; both the politicians and the people. We want to keep the pyramid, just turn it on its head. If the dharnas could cause a revolution, the real status quo of Pakistan would have never allowed them to happen.

After the Indian High Commissioner, Dr TCA Raghvan and his wife met the hearing and speech-impaired ‘Hindu’ girl in Karachi, reportedly stuck in Pakistan for 13 long years, External Affairs Minister Sushma Swaraj vowed on Twitter,

 “We will bring Geeta back to India.” “Our High Commissioner believes that Geeta is an Indian,” Swaraj added, while thanking all the wonderful individuals in Pakistan who looked after the wretched girl like their own daughter and sister.

“But I wish to remove and resist the idea that Pakistan should be reunited by force of arms. I hope that this will not be misunderstood as a note of discord. Whilst I am lying on what is truly a deathbed, I hope all Pakistanis will realise that I would be untrue to them and to myself if from a sense of weakness and for fear of hurting their feelings, I failed to convey to them what I truthfully feel. If I am wrong ... I should be told and, if I am convinced, I promise that I shall retract what I have said here. So far as I know the point is not open to question.”

“Dekhiye, yaa to Hindustan ko Pakistan mein milaa do, nahin to Pakistan ko Hindustan mein mila do. Is batwaare ne bahut nuksaan kiya hai.” (Look, either merge India into Pakistan or Pakistan into India. This partition has caused a lot of harm.)

Many of us born to families who migrated across borders during partition grew up hearing whispers of events from that time. The end of the British Raj in India saw the subcontinent dissected into two – Pakistan and India. This led to the largest migration in history and caused widespread communal violence. My nani (maternal grandmother) narrated tragedies of madness raging the land without adequate police or troops to maintain law and order. One of my nani’s friends narrated how her father had told all the women in their family that should the train they were on be stopped and boarded by rioting mobs, they should commit suicide. She was proud of the fact that they had agreed to the idea of group suicide, although luckily, no such need presented itself. I was shocked. Why did they agree to it in the first place? When I expressed my astonishment to their plan, I was told that it was better to die than be dishonoured. Reading about the Partition, I am overwhelmed by the intensity of the violence but I am even more astounded by how much of it was directed towards women. Thousands of women were abducted, raped, mutilated, used as slaves and discarded. Considering the extent of the violence, what is truly dumbfounding is how little has been written about it. It is as if the women did not matter enough for people to even bear witness to the cruelty they suffered and suffer they did; Hindu, Muslim and Sikh women, they all suffered. The women themselves do not like to narrate or talk of what they experienced. Truth is that most of those who were abducted were also later abandoned by their families. A woman’s rape means dishonour to her kin. Her presence is a reminder of her shame. It is apparently easier to shun her and pretend she never existed. Most of these women never had the chance to tell their stories but even the ones who did chose to let silence take over instead.

“Even when women survivors narrated Partition stories to their families, there were pauses in the narrative. As they began sharing their stories with scholars, women did not reveal any incidents of sexual violence they personally experienced.”

“‘Abducted person’ means a male child of under the age of 16 years or a female of whatever age who is, or immediately before the first day of March, 1947, was a Muslim (Pakistan’s Law stated Hindu or Sikh) and who on or after that day or before the first day of January, 1949, was separated from his or her family and is found to be living with or in control of any other individual or family, and in the latter case includes a child born to any such female after the said date.”

“Thousands of Hindu and Sikh girls have been abducted by the Muslims and Muslim women have been abducted by the Hindu and Sikh. Where are these women at present? We have no clue as to where they are at the moment. Those who met in Lahore have decided that all abducted women – Hindu, Sikh and Muslims – should be recovered. I have received a long list of Muslim women who have been abducted from Kashmir and the state of Patiala. Many of them belong to wealthy, good families. If these women are recovered, there should be no problem in them being accepted by their families. However, it is doubtful that our Hindus and Sikhs will accept their abducted women and treat them with respect. They may have been forced to marry someone and may have even converted to Islam. Despite this, in my opinion, they should not be considered as Muslims at all. I would be happy to keep these women with me and treat them with respect. At heart, they are pure. However, because they fell into the hands of evil men, I would only have compassion for them and would have no reason to despise them. Society must gracefully accept them.”

“People didn’t even bother locking their doors; we knew that we could never come back. It wasn’t easy for us, leaving everything behind, and it seems like another life now, as if we left a part of ourselves back in India. Plenty of people lost their lives, it’s still hard to believe what the partition did to all of us,” told 86-year-old Raffat Jehan.

“My father’s non-Muslim friends told him that they couldn’t protect us anymore, as painful as it was for us, we had to leave India,” she adds.

“I was about eight-years-old when my uncle gave my mother her jewellery which she had kept with him. This exchange happened in front of me and being the mischievous child that I was, I swiped it just as they both were engaged in conversation.”

“I swung the pull string pouch, which contained my mother’s gold, playfully all around the neighbourhood, stopping to show the jewellery to each passing person, even the cleaners on the street. Everyone looked, politely smiled at me and moved on, until I went to show my aunt, who took it from me and returned it to my mother the following day,” she exclaimed.

“I don’t know. I still think about it sometimes, and get lost in thought for quite a while but don’t have a straight answer to give you,” she paused for a brief moment. “ I guess people just became more greedy and unhappy, everyone in my neighbourhood was friendly back then, despite the religious differences or the problems our government was facing, even though in many other areas it was quite the opposite, hence the partition,” she adds.

“My journey to Pakistan was not nearly as bad as what many other people had to endure. I left late in October along with my family by train from Delhi to Lahore. When we got here, others told us of their experiences and I couldn’t believe what they said at first, they told me that new born babies were snatched from their mothers, young girls kidnapped and…” she trailed off, not being able to go on about the sacrifices the people had to make and the amount of pain they had to go through.

“It saddens me that people give up thinking one person can’t make a difference; they can if they just try hard enough, it always starts with one person,” she added.

“The government is not only at fault, if the people just think to forget their differences in race and culture, don’t see themselves as people belonging to a certain province and as Pakistanis instead, there can be a great difference,” she said, seeming hopeful. “We just need to be more united and care about one another, if we do that, we can achieve greatness. I know it’s a small step and you might not think it’s as important as many other things that can be done, but in my opinion, it is the first step and the most important one we can take right now,” she adds.

My uncle, a 78-year-old retired government officer, recently came to visit and stayed with us for a few weeks. One day, while I was working on my computer, he inquisitively asked,

“What sort of things can this machine do?”

“Can it show the picture of my village Uche Ladhe in district Lahore?”

Taking advantage of the long Eid break, I along with a couple of friends decided to explore the ancient Depalpur Fort, about a couple of hours drive from Lahore. We arrived in Depalpur on time and started inquiring about the said fort. To our amazement, not a single person there had a clue as to what we were talking about, until a shopkeeper taking us for some 'documentary-type' filmmakers, directed us to a small village on Wasawaywala road by the name of Bhumman Shah. Somewhat disappointed, we decided to make good use of our day and headed to Bhumman Shah. After travelling on a scenic country road, surrounded by potato and maize fields for about 15 minutes, we reached Bhumman Shah. To our surprise, it looked like a mini fort with a huge compound divided into residential quarters (haveli), a Gurdwara and a Dharamshala (hostel) for devotees. Except for the Gurdwara, all the other buildings of the compound are being used as residences by local inhabitants with limited awareness for heritage conservation. The haveli and some meditation rooms in the Gurdwara appear to be built in the late 18^th or 19^th century, however, Samadhi and the prayer hall appeared to have been constructed later. The Gurdwara itself was apparently declared as a heritage site by the government a few years ago, however, the only sign of government possession is a huge lock at the main gate though both visitors as well as school boys can enter through one of the broken walls either to explore the amazing Gurdwara or play cricket in the main prayer hall, according to respective preferences. The haveli or residential compound is an imposing structure with its own ancient wooden gate. The outer walls are now in dilapidated condition but have intricate carvings and frescos, and beautiful arches all around. The walls are covered with frescos showing various scenes from Sikh history as well as carved embellishments with human faces, beasts as well as shapes depicting jinns. The haveli interior is restricted to only women as some Pakhtun families now reside inside the haveli. The other interesting building is the Dharamshala or hostel for devotees. The building appears to be built at a later stage when the number of devotees to Bhumman Shah increased. It is also being used by local families as residential quarters. The Gurdwara complex itself is best preserved. Locals told us that Sikhs pay their respects frequently. The Gurdwara has a beautiful early 20^th century meditation cell or Samadhi in the centre. The Samadhi has Mughal character with tall minarets at all corners probably as a result of centuries of Muslims, Sikhs and Hindus living together in peace and harmony. The Samadhi has some amazing frescos on its marble walls with scenes of royal darbar, hunting expeditions etc. still quite well preserved. Some of the marble walls with frescos appear to have been displaced or stolen. The main prayer hall is well kept as of now. There is a marble stage for the prayer leader as well as a gallery for those devotees who cannot find space on the ground floor. The prayer hall was inaugurated in 1910, it seems, however, that it is currently being used for some in-house cricket by the local youth. As the story goes, Bhumia was a 17^th century saint born in 1687 in Behlolpur village of Depalpur. At an early age, he was inducted in the Udsai Sainthood of Sikhs and was renamed Bhumman Shah. The tales of his miracles spread to a vast area and earned him a fair share of devotees. Bhumman Shah apparently had a local Wattoo landlord released from prison using his magical powers and in turn was awarded a vast landholding by the landlord and hence came into being the Bhumman Shah village. Bhumman Shah died in 1762 and throughout his life preached the message of peaceful co-existence and universal brotherhood, earning him devotees who were not only Sikhs but also Muslims and Hindus. After the 1947 partition of India and Pakistan, the descendents of Bhumman Shah migrated to Haryana in India and thus the Gurdwara along with the associated property was practically abandoned. Some Bhumman Shah's disciples still continue teaching the Shah's philosophies in Haryana as well as Dera Dhun. I don't believe it would be too much asked of the government to preserve Bhumman Shah and other Hindu and Sikh heritage sites in Pakistan. With a proper heritage conservation plan, a couple of guides cum watchmen at these sites and we would have a rich tourist platform. It is important for the local administration as well as the tourism department to become proactive about campaigning for these heritage jewels scattered all over Pakistan. PS: On our return from Bhumman Shah, we were able to find Depalpur fort as well! But that is story for another time. All photos: Omar Mukhtar  This post originally appeared here.

Adolf Hitler had forewarned the world about his wicked intentions in Mein Kampf in 1925, years before he implemented his satanic plans of exterminating the Jews from the world. He wrote in the book:

“Hence, today, I believe that I am acting in accordance with the will of the Almighty Creator: ‘By defending myself against the Jew, I am fighting for the work of the Lord.”

“I am not bothered because I believe I am doing the right thing. I have common sense,” he told a CNN anchor a few months ago. Criticisms roll off Trump like water off a duck’s beak and when confronted, he wants people to look at “my rallies who gave me a standing ovation when I read out my statement”.

“In the darkness beneath the deck, blacks were forced to lay in sickening stench filled with waste, disease, body lice and rodents for up to twelve weeks. Often the dead weren’t removed for days, and the seawater turned the decomposing bodies soup-like, creating an unbelievably horrible and suffocating odour.”

As I waited outside the Head of Department’s office at my university for the sixth time in a week, I started thinking. I wondered what made someone attach so much importance to themselves that they felt the need to berate others in order to recognise their authority. This made me speculate; is Pakistan still a colony ruled by the white man’s supremacy? Have we honestly never recovered from the imperialistic practices of the West? Does the ordinary Pakistani citizen try to exert the ‘white man’s burden’, knowing fully well that he is of colour? The answer is yes! You see when an area is colonised, it is not just the people who suffer; it is also the environment, the nature, the language, the culture and most importantly, the thought that undergoes a lasting revolution. Some have the privilege of recovering; unfortunately, we did not. Every year on the August 14, we mount our flags up high and our pride even higher to highlight the fact that the white man rules us no longer. We are free, independent, masters of our own fate. The truth, however, is that the white man left us, but he never truly left us. What led to the Partition in 1947 was not the mere fact that Muslims were under oppression. It was because our ancestors realised that the Muslim heritage was under threat and that everything they attached to themselves in the form of identity was dissolving into thin air. And who are you when your identity is stripped away from you? Nothing but a deliberate fragmentation of reality, an apparition, a chapter in someone else’s book, a kingdom that once was. Nothing. Hence, in an attempt to safeguard this identity, our ancestors put everything to risk. The lives of their six-month-old babies, the virginities of their innocent daughters, the integrity of their elders who were still striving for the fallen Mughal empire, the courtyards that danced with the aroma of fresh chapatis made with a mother’s love, the fresh jowar fields where they saw the love of their lives for the very first time. Everything. And it finally paid off. However, we as a nation have caused more harm to this very identity than anyone else has. Every institution seeking to hire lists fluency in English as one of the basic requirements. Interviews are conducted in English, by men dressed in English. We devour the foreign language as if our sustenance depends on it. We eagerly take out our dyes on holi, roses on Valentines, costumes on Halloween, and fireworks on New Years without realising that the average white man has the legal right to charge Muslims for animal cruelty on Eidul Azha. Why is it that politician’s children, roughly the same age as you, have four security cars, loaded with security guards whereas you are forced to travel on a motorbike with nothing more than a helmet for protection? What have they done to ensure that their life is more valuable than yours? It is the mere veracity that they are born in privilege; the same privilege that once dismantled the subcontinent under the white man’s watch. Seamus Heaney, in one of his poems, said,

“You carried your own burden and very soon, your symptoms of creeping privilege disappeared”.

Those of us who were born before Partition know that Muhammad Ali Jinnah could not speak Urdu, except perhaps a few broken sentences. His speeches were always in English, sometimes with a translator to make the crowds understand what he was saying. But sometime in the 1980s, the government dubbed all his speeches in Urdu, apparently under pressure from those who thought a highly westernised Jinnah would make today’s youth doubt that he wanted an Islamic state. One result of this is that an entire generation of Pakistanis have grown up believing that Jinnah was fluent in Urdu, and always dressed in a sherwani instead of the western clothes he always wore. Even our currency notes show him wearing a sherwani, which he donned on very few occasions after independence. This is, of course, all due to the fear among the so-called defenders of the country’s ideology that somehow our people will stop believing that the country's founder looked, dressed and spoke like an Englishman. Of course, these same defenders of the country’s ideology belong to those religious parties which strenuously opposed the creation of Pakistan and even used to call Mr Jinnah ‘Kafir e Azam’. Fortunately, Mr Jinnah was always clean-shaven, but that will not deter these elements from pasting a beard on his photos anytime soon, seeing how rapidly the country’s youth is being radicalised. But these hardliners were not satisfied with just changing the image of the country’s founder. They saw that his wife, Ruttie Jinnah, was highly westernised as well. Hence they thought of making her appear as a pious Muslim and the first thing they did was change her name to Maryam. This was supposed to have happened after her conversion to Islam at the time of her marriage to Jinnah. They thought if young people today knew that Jinnah did not get his wife’s name changed to a Muslim name at the time of their marriage, they would think he could not have been a staunch Muslim. So they got this piece of disinformation (about Ruttie’s name being changed to Maryam) inserted in Wikipedia and our school textbooks, again making a whole generation of Pakistanis believing another lie. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="594"] Ruttie Jinnah. Photo: AFP[/caption] For those who may not know, the name change has to be done before marriage, so that the new name is recorded in the marriage documents. In the 1960s, a Muslim woman married the scion of a well-known Hindu family in Karachi. Before the marriage was solemnised, the man was converted and given a Muslim name, after which the nikkah was performed. In Ruttie’s case, this was not necessary because her name (meaning jewel) was common amongst Gujrati Muslims of those times. [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600"] Marriage certificate. Photo: Raheelq Wordpress[/caption] But apparently, our ideologues did not know this, and decided to give her what they thought was a good Muslim name. And because she already had a Muslim name, Mr Jinnah did not think it necessary to ask her to change her name when he married her. Which is why in his marriage certificate, the name of the bride is stated to be Ratanbai. For the record, this changing of Ruttie’s name has not been mentioned in any newspaper or periodical published at the time, neither has it been verified or authenticated by any credible source. Moreover, she always signed her letters “Ruttie”, and in one of her letters which she wrote to Jinnah four months before her death, she ends with the words,

“Darling goodnight and goodbye. Ruttie”

We have seen Gandhi and we have seen Jinnah. Now, here comes another contender that demands viewing with the same veneration, if not more. But the problem is, I was less than thrilled watching the Viceroy’s House, not wanting to keep this adaptation of the 1947 Partition beside the previous two classics directed by Richard Attenborough and Jamil Dehlavi respectively. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=id_ZyNdvXKQ In her latest flick, the Bend It Like Beckham director, Gurinder Chadha bends the truth just enough to prove Lord Louis Mountbatten (Hugh Bonneville) an angel, and Muhammad Ali Jinnah (Denzil Smith), an egotistical villain. She portrays Jinnah as if he were single-handedly responsible for the carnage and bloodshed of the one million migrants. As a result, the film does not rise above the British propaganda, which aims to create a soft image of the last Viceroy of India tasked with “handing over” power to the Hindu and Muslim leaders of the Indian subcontinent. Viceroy’s House was initially screened at the Berlin International Film Festival in February. However, it was tactfully released in India on August 18^th, three days after the 70^th Independence Anniversary of India and four days after Independence Day in Pakistan. Part fiction, part non-fiction, a fraction colour, a fraction black and white – the film seems to lack dramatic unity and the director’s imagination. Take the casting for example, Hugh Bonneville as the Viceroy is perhaps little more than an alter ego of the Earl of Grantham that the actor played in the famed television series, Downton Abbey. Smith, who plays Jinnah, has ironically portrayed Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru in Shobhayatra (2004). In the future, who knows, Smith might play Mohandas Gandhi as well, and set a world record for irony. To make matters worse, Chadha even imports into the script an external love story to the likes of Titanic, but the pathos loses its potency thanks to an anti-climactic and Bollywood-styled surprise reunion of the lovers. Deus ex machina, at its best.

“History is written by the victors,” quotes the opening title of Viceroy’s House.

“… But the truth is, we’ve both been used,” to which the Viceroy painfully replies, “But you got what you wanted.” “I got only half the country I wanted,” replies Smith’s Jinnah with a sly grin and dark circles around his eyes.

“Wish me luck.”

“Churchill is a pantomime PM in Jonathan Teplitzky’s ponderous film that strives too hard to excuse Churchill’s flaws,” writes Simran Hans of The Guardian.

“This eruption of Anglophilia might be the result of a counter-reaction to the United Kingdom’s vote to break from the European Union.”

The idea that it only takes one person to make a difference could not have been more apt for Sharmeen Obaid-Chinoy’s (SOC) ground breaking project, “Home 1947”.  Having visited the exhibit earlier this week, I walked out in a state of complete awe – her effort is an experience definitely worth visiting at least once! After premiering at the Manchester International Festival 2017, it is now on display at Dolmen Mall, Clifton till January 15, 2018. It is a collection of stories from the people who “left their homes and crossed borders during the 1947 Partition of the Indian subcontinent”. SOC picked up the lives of everyday people (like you and me) and presented them through the use of multi-faceted mediums such as short documentaries, installations, projection room, pop-up museums, and virtual reality, as well as sound and music. https://www.facebook.com/socfilms/videos/1977201415629613/ In a way, I felt that it was a very smart use of modern day technology. How else could they capture and ultimately present a 360-degree experience of Partition-era architecture? The exhibit included very graphic depictions from survivors, including short documentaries, photographs, audio clips, and recreating the insides of abandoned havelis (manors). Starting off from the survivors’ accounts, we walked through a “safar nama” (itinerary) – a darkened walkway, which I suppose was meant to be likened to somebody charting an unknown territory. In going through this section, we could only wonder what went through the minds of people who were a part of this mass migration. They, too, must have wondered: where are we going? What is going to become of us, our homes, our belongings, and everything that we are leaving behind? Will we ever come back? This led to the “Suitcase of Memories”, a section where I all but broke down. These suitcases contained a few meagre belongings of people who had escaped their homes in a hurry – their only aim at that point in time being to escape the riots and rioters. One suitcase had several cologne bottles and a shoe brush. Another seemed to be a vanity box of sorts, with a mini jewellery box, a hair brush and a pocket mirror. And yet another was perhaps a treasure chest – holding what seemed like a precious coin, which for all we know was a collectors’ item for the owner. Who knows? While these items are pretty much insignificant to the grand scheme of this exhibit, they are otherwise priceless and say so much about that era; the thought (or lack of) given when figuring out what to carry along when trying to escape the impending threat of ruthless insurgents, and simultaneously the need to cling to physical items that give an otherwise surreal meaning to our lives. But more importantly, these suitcases of memories showed just how unprepared and, most likely, unwilling these people were to leave behind their homes and their belongings. In a sense, we felt an absence of origin while making our way through the display. Listening to a lady talk about the time she spent with her best friend under a tree, and an elderly gentleman who recalled precise details of his mother’s death at the hands of the mob, gave us a more personal feel to the events of Partition, which brought into existence the country we now call home. Looking at the hair brushes with the hair still visible was so relatable, as that is exactly how I leave things behind when I am in a rush; clothes scattered everywhere, random newspapers and personal items strewn about the room. There was a very familiar touch to anyone viewing the same, in that it literally personified the home as a living, breathing form which we often take for granted today. What would I take along if, for all practical purposes, I was pushed out of the place I called home? The timing of this exhibit is pertinent, since 2017 marked #70KiAzaadi, for both India and Pakistan. But it’s important to note that it was an azaadi (independence) not just from each other, but for each other. While walking through Home 1947, I recalled the few stories my daadi ( paternal grandmother) told us about her personal experience. She talked about the train that crossed the border into Pakistan and passengers were massacred; her eyes welled up when telling me,

“Wo hamare apne log thay saare. (they were all our people)”

With zeal and passion, young Pakistani directors are in reviving stage plays and bringing them back in the spotlight. With great plays such as Aangan Terha, Sawa 14 August, Pawney 14 August, Siachen and Bananistan, one can witness the efforts put in by theatre enthusiasts. Dawar Mehmood’s new theatre play, Hua Kuch Yoon, written by veteran actor Sajid Hassan and produced by KopyKats Productions, recently hit the stage at Karachi Arts Council. https://www.facebook.com/KopyKatsProductions/videos/1855308637836778/ Hua Kuch Yoon premiered last week in Karachi and was introduced by legendary Anwar Maqsood to the audience as he showered the team with best wishes. Maqsood also shared that Hua Kuch Yoon has 180 performers, which is a significant number and more than any in the history of stage plays in Karachi. Hua Kuch Yoon depicts a not-so-romantic tale yet it seemed as though that the writer wanted the audience to believe that it’s a love story. Set in the backdrop of the Partition, the play starts with the brutal killing of both the protagonists’ parents in the massacre of Jallianwala Bagh. The kids, Qurutul Ain and Raja, are adopted by a Sikh and Muslim family respectively. They had spent their childhood together, however, they had to separate and their interaction decreased. Years later, Qurutul Ain meets Raja at her college due to a debate competition. Since both of them stand at opposite ends when it comes to politics, with Qurutul Ain supporting Congress and Raja supporting Muslim League, they do not start off on good terms. Despite their differences, they eventually fall in love and face numerous hurdles in their path. Hua Kuch Yoon is a story of how the Partition affected different people with different ideologies in a humoristic, satirical and romantic setting. The performers from the play include Fareeha Raza, Saad Farukh Khan, Mujtaba Rizvi, Adil Bangash, Faraz Ali, Taha Humayun, Maria Saad among others. In all honesty, Hua Kuch Yoon lacks good performances. Due to the lack of impactful performances from both the protagonists, the audience fails to connect with them during the play. However, Ali, who plays a police officer, brings in a unique performance and is definitely worth the appreciation. Even though he was a bit too loud, he is a fine talent and one to watch out for. The actor who plays the villain is also dependable and gives quite a few noteworthy scenes that force the audience to clap for him. Even the performer who played an older version of Raja was decent and managed to do justice to his character. The remaining cast members, however, were forgettable and disappointing. Moreover, the script of Hua Kuch Yoon is amongst the weakest I have personally witnessed. Dialogues were weak, amateurishly written and failed to impress the audience. It seemed like the team was obsessed with “toilet humour” as terms such as “tatti” (poop) were actually being used in this play. This wasn’t really funny and seemed very childish during the play. Unfortunately, based on its script and dialogues, Hua Kuch Yoon is not going to intrigue an audience that craves for quality. Even though the production team really outdid themselves at certain points, it lacked the art of authenticity that should have been displayed on the stage. The use of props and other objects failed to recreate the times they wanted to depict. Mehmood should have realised by now that it’s only Maqsood that found his play to be a little bearable based on the quality of content. And with Hasan as the writer, it’s a dream close to impossible to get creative juices flowing from words. It's important to mention here that the character of Quratul Ain is very imaginary as one cannot fathom such a character in this society, who literally had to impose herself on the shy boy. The play will run till March 15, 2018; so if you still want to watch what Hua Kuch Yoon has to offer, please go and buy your tickets. If you’ll go with little to no expectations, then there are chances you won’t abhor the play. Be assured though that the play is almost two hours long and feels very dragged on many points. So while Pakistan's stage play industry is breaking barriers and offering quality, commendable plays, unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Dawar Mehmood’s Hua Kuch Yoon. All photos: Facebook/KopyKats Production

In 1950, Pakistan’s first Minster of Law and Labour, and the second Minister of Commonwealth and Kashmir Affairs, Jogendra Nath Mandal, fled to India after submitting his resignation letter to the then Prime Minister, Liaquat Ali Khan. One major concern that forced him to resign was the dismal future of Dalits in Pakistan. In his resignation letter, he mentioned institutionalised and systematic discrimination against Dalits. Today, there is hardly any mention of him in our books, politics or our media, even though he was a close ally of Muhammad Ali Jinnah. The principal objectives that once prompted Mandal to work in co-operation with the Muslim League were largely the identical interests of Dalits and Muslims – both had a need for autonomy and self-determination. According to Mandal, the scheduled castes and the Muslims were both educationally backward in the pre-Partition era, and both groups were marginalised during British rule. He thought a Muslim-majority state would be a better choice for Dalits, as Muslims would be empathetic to their plight. To his dismay, right-wing religious groups emerged right after independence, which became a major problem for both, the Muslim and non-Muslim minorities in Pakistan. Subsequently, the Objectives Resolution was passed in 1949; religion and politics were intermingled, and an Islamic ideology was enforced. Unsurprisingly, all of the members who opposed the Objectives Resolution were non-Muslims. According to Mandal, the government at the time planned to squeeze out Hindus entirely. Mandal then started receiving death threats. All these factors led him to consider the gravity of the situation, and consequently, resign. He migrated to India, where right-wing Hindu groups were attempting to impose Hindu nationalism, threatening India’s own minorities. What followed after Mandal was a chain of events that only further marginalised Dalits in Pakistan. The first plight for the group was during the exodus in the Partition era. Since most of the sweepers in Sindh were from scheduled castes, their departure would have left behind a vacuum. In her book, The Making of Exile: Sindhi Hindus and the Partition of India, Nandita Bhavani argued that the enforcement of the Sindh Public Safety Ordinance gave the government the power to prevent persons from leaving essential services. Furthermore, Bhavani reveals that the government amended the ordinance to clearly prohibit washermen and sweepers – primarily Dalits – departing from Sindh without the written permission of the District Magistrate. In 1957, under the Scheduled Caste Presidential Ordinance, a 6% job quota was reserved for scheduled castes, but it was scrapped in 1990 and now that quota is reserved for ‘all’ minorities. In between that timespan, Dalits were officially enlisted as scheduled castes in the 1973 Constitution. There are more than 40 Hindu groups who are listed under scheduled castes, which is the official term for Dalits. Surprisingly, there is no ‘official’ document which explains the meaning of scheduled caste. Why were they enlisted as scheduled castes? Some Dalit activists argue it was because of the dominance of upper caste Hindus in politics at that time. In any case, one thing was made clear – the government of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan differentiated on the basis of caste. According to upper caste Hindus, scheduled castes don’t fall in the four-fold Varna system of Hinduism, thus they are considered to be lower caste Hindus. This has been the root cause for discrimination against them. Though Dalits consider themselves Hindus, since they follow same religious practices, the legal and social vernacular maintains the status quo against them. The Pakistan Hindu Council has reported that 94% of Pakistani Hindus are living in Sindh, and among them, the scheduled caste comprises 80% of the total Hindu population. Despite the fact Dalits constitute almost 80% of the Pakistani Hindu population, they have no political leverage in the politics of Sindh. Since political parties rely on powerful landlords, especially in the case of rural Sindh, and with Dalits entangled with economic issues, the upper caste Hindus unsurprisingly filled the political vacuum. The political system thus became inaccessible to the Dalits. Although Sindh is the political hub of the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP), which considers itself a populist party, its leadership has only allowed two members from the scheduled castes to be in the legislative assembly. In 2013, not a single of the 10 Hindu minority seats in the Parliament was filled by a Dalit. Subsequently, in the 2017 population census, Dalits and Hindus were made two different groups to reinforce the binary that one can either be a Hindu or a Dalit. Initially, Dalits were considered lower caste Hindus, but now they have become “non-Hindus”. In light of this, it is ironic the Pakistani government still denies systematic caste discrimination under the guise of legality. Knowingly or unknowingly, we are all accountable in silently promoting caste discrimination. The recent appointment of Krishna Kohli as the first ever Dalit Senator was hailed by almost every Pakistani. Both social and conventional media hailed this as a victory – it was, after all, a promotion for a good cause. However, now that Dalits are officially being declared as “non-Hindus”, isn’t that a setback for their community, albeit in disguise? Our celebration, therefore, is a blockade for Dalits in their long struggle to reconstruct the idea that they too are Hindus. The dominance of upper caste Hindus in the political sphere of our history has forged us to form our own prejudices against the Dalits. Caste discrimination is now institutionalised, and has thus become far more dangerous. The appointment of Kohli as a Senator would have been more significant if Dalits were considered as lower caste Hindus, rather than non-Hindus. Given the historical and political discrimination against this minority group, Kohli’s appointment was supposed to be a transformative movement for the country’s minorities. However, it didn’t come out of the blue. It can be argued this is a well-crafted move by the PPP, since elections are right around the corner, and their strategy is to focus on getting more support from the Dalits. Since Dalits constitute a major chunk of the population in four districts of Sindh, this move will indeed have a transformative effect in 2018, and perhaps even after that. It is necessary to take a step back from our presumptions and critically analyse our political decisions, which have a discriminating trait disguised in them. In this case, while a voice has been provided to a voiceless community, it has also reduced Dalits to an identity they do not prefer. Similarly, there are no political debates over the legal categories to which we justify this kind of subjugation; this kind of talk is usually kept limited to our social circles. If one is wondering why Dalits did not raise their voice before, Occam’s razor will tell you it was simply because they had no social, political and economic leverage to do so in the first place.

In 1938, the then president of the All India Muslim League (AIML), Muhammad Ali Jinnah, was made a lifetime member of the Aligarh Muslim University’s (AMU) student union. In accordance with this honour, a portrait of him was placed on the union’s walls. The portrait is an interesting one, for it depicts Jinnah in the early days of his transition. He has his Karakul cap on, depicting the transition from Jinnah the liberal, moderate Indian nationalist, to the Quaid-e-Azam that Pakistan would know as the father of the nation. AMU played a very important role in the history of the Pakistan movement, as many of its leaders and ideologues studied and mobilised there. When Jinnah died, he donated a third of his residuary estate to AMU, which is why through the portrait, the university was also honouring a generous benefactor and an important part of its history. Previous governments of India did not hold this against the university, as it continued to get liberal funding and support from the central government. In fact, for 70 years, most Indians did not know such a portrait existed in the first place. However, recently, Bharatiya Janata Party’s (BJP) Lok Sabha MP, Satish Gautam, wrote a letter to the vice chancellor of AMU, requesting the removal of the portrait, and for it to be replaced with that of India’s former president, APJ Abdul Kalam. The late former president remains the right wing’s go-to ‘good Muslim’. He was India’s missile man, played the Veena, and read the Bhagavad Gita, apart from seeking the blessings of prominent Hindu saints. Almost at the other end of the spectrum stands Jinnah. BJP leaders like Jaswant Singh and LK Advani have gotten into trouble for taking a sympathetic view of him, in a way Congress leaders in India have not. The right wing in India therefore has a somewhat complicated relationship with Jinnah. A stated antipathy exists for sure, but there is also an oft expressed retrospective gratitude amongst many for the creation of Pakistan. Doing so rid India of most of its Muslim majority regions, allowing Hindus the space to breathe in a more comfortable majority. Thus, Jinnah is the man who dissected the hallowed Akhand Bharat idea, but Jinnah is also the man who eventually obliged India’s Hindus. Bharat was therefore never about the people – it was about the land, and the history of the land that was taken away. For taking it away, Jinnah would officially be persona non grata. But unofficially, for helping strengthen the Hindu political identity by consolidating a Muslim political identity and then creating Pakistan (a constant source of succour and refrain for the political Hindu), he would be a godsend to many. Finally, Jinnah is considered (solely) responsible for the Partition and Direct Action Day, and for the lives lost in those two painful episodes. Therefore, the BJP’s attempt to take down the portrait can be seen as part of a series of events in which the Hindutva has attempted to assert itself more strongly, ever since Narendra Modi came to power. Muslims have been lynched; the body of one of the killers was wrapped in the tricolour with a union minister paying his respects; attempts have also been made to strengthen beef-related laws that disproportionately affect Muslims, while the alleged Hindu rapists of a Muslim girl have been defended. The communal situation in India has undeniably worsened. In this episode of assertion, men from the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) barged into the gates of AMU, demanding the portrait be removed. In the ensuing kerfuffle, students were injured. However, this latest assertion has a special significance, because how many in India view Muslims continues to be influenced by Jinnah, the Partition and Pakistan. The narrative is that Muslims did not want to live together in a united country and have carved out their own space, then why should we continue to make space for them here, when they made their intentions clear in the past? Why should we make space for Jinnah’s portrait when he (and by extension most Muslims), by articulating the Two Nation Theory, wanted to maintain his (their) distance from us? This view continues to influence the interaction of many Hindus with Muslims in India today. Consequently, the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh has said the portrait must go. In his book Homo Deus, Yuval Noah Harari says,

“Historians study the past not in order to repeat it, but in order to be liberated from it.”

“The cold hand of the past emerges from the grave of our ancestors, grips us by the neck and directs our gaze towards a single future. We have felt that angry grip from the moment we were born, so we assume it is a natural and inescapable part of who we are. Therefore we seldom try to shake ourselves free, and envision alternative futures. Studying history aims to loosen the grip of the past.”

Imran Khan’s victory in the recently concluded General Elections went as per preordained script. The arrest of Nawaz Sharif and his daughter in a money laundering case practically sealed the deal. The Supreme Court has debarred him from contesting elections for life, virtually putting an end to the political career of the former prime minister. It is alleged that Imran enjoys the confidence and support of the establishment which paved the way for Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) to emerge victorious. The opposition has questioned the legitimacy of the elections, especially where it is alleged that widespread rigging was allowed to take place to favour one party. The political pundits had predicted, even before the first vote was cast, that Imran would win the elections hands down because of the tremendous support he receives. However, it can’t be denied that in spite of questions being raised about the fairness of the elections, Imran enjoys tremendous goodwill amongst a large section of the population, mainly for his integrity. PTI could muster only 115 seats, and they have fallen short of 22 seats to able to form the government without a coalition. It is hoped that both the independents and other smaller parties will back PTI in this regard. Today, Pakistan faces an unprecedented economic crisis and requires the assistance of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) to bail it out. However, the IMF will force Pakistan to make tough and painful structural adjustments. The US, on the other hand, has refused to help Pakistan until it abandons nurturing terror groups. It is for this reason that Pakistan, today, requires a strong leader, who has the ability to take some hard and unpopular decisions to resuscitate the economy. In his address to the nation, Imran came across as a person with good intentions. Recognising the poor relations of Pakistan with some of its immediate neighbouring countries, especially Afghanistan and India, he expressed his desire to improve ties to ensure peace and stability in the region. He has also assured the people of Pakistan to root out corruption and has offered to subject himself before the National Accountability Bureau (NAB). He has also committed to creating a ‘Naya Pakistan’ which will focus on creating a welfare state. In spite of Imran’s inexperience in governance, he has the making of a good leader, a skill honed during his captaincy, with the ability to take all the sections of society with him. His commitment to protect the interests of the minorities is praiseworthy. In India, one was waiting for a tweet from Prime Minister Narendra Modi congratulating Imran for his victory. Sadly, Modi, who is the first on the block to tweet, has remained silent so far. However, in a welcome development, India’s spokesperson at the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA), responding to Imran’s offer of friendship with India, has finally issued a statement:

“We welcome that the people of Pakistan have reposed their faith in democracy through General Elections.”

“We hope that the new Government of Pakistan will work constructively to build a safe, stable, secure and developed South Asia, free of terror and violence.”