"Why do we have to raise a Team. We have to first settle our people, identify the identity of Jinnahpur" said the Cultural Minister Abu Latif on the suggestion of former cricketer Wazir Hussain. Wazir replied, "My dear sir, seeing their cricket team play and inshallah doing good, would start making the awam think on other issues besides the development and corruption issues of Jinnahpur". "How can you be so sure on this" replied the minister very much interested by the logic given. After all it was hard times for the government. "Sahib, look at me. In my times I was a great cricketer. We had so many Muhajir playing cricket. Karachi was always a important center for cricket. It is in our blood. It helps us take out all the daily frustrations and makes us enjoy. I have no doubt it will go that way". "Hmm go ahead. You have my blessing, you can have the stadium, but a budget no more than 1 crore rupees". "1 crore but but that" said Wazir but was cut by Abu Latif "We have to feed people, that is the maximum I can do. I already gave you the stadiums. Talk to some multinationals they will give you some money too". "Ok Janab, atleast I have the stadium" Wazir said somewhat satisfying himself.
Wazir in his old days was a star player for Pakistan Cricket Team, who had a clean image away from all controversies. Whole of country liked him and not just the Mohajir's. Then when the civil war broke out and Pashtun right outside Hyderabad and both Mohair and Sindh forces defending, he decided it was enough and left for Dubai. After 5 years and 1 year after formation of Jinnahpur he came back.
Jinnahpur was a challenging task from beginning. It was primarily based out of Karachi with a few districts around it. Karachi contributed towards a large percent of GDP of Pakistan, and Jinnahpur got that in legacy. But it had to give some remunerations to other 4 landlocked states for getting the big chunk, in return the landlocked nations pledges certain volume of trade through Karachi, the old way. Yes Jinnahpur was the gateway to Sindh (Who were now about to develop their port though), Seraikistan, Punjabistan,Pakhtunistan, Afghanistan and even central Asian ports. However lately it got great competition from Indian cities of Amritsar and Ferozepur, Jaiselmer which served as Inland ports from India. With so many people in the city state, and a challenge on mainstay of Trade, things were looking challenging. Having the highest urban population and high literacy rates of Muhajir, they had started to make some way in the Service industry
Wazir went ahead thinking on a plan. First he needed to form a Board. He was deciding on the list of his former friends who would help him. Many were dead thanks to the civil war. Some were abroad, and some so busy just to have daily meals. He could not pay them. He virtually had no budget, but just love for cricket. Thanks to his stint in Dubai, he had got enough money and with his son working in USA, he had a decent amount of money coming, so that he did not have to worry on income.
Sitting in home, he took out all his old contacts. He tried to set dates with as many industrialists, cricketers, news agencies. He kept calling them to have meetings with them. After forming a board was his priority. Alone he could never do it. Then one day he met Coxjee, the Parsee Businessman in the city. He had a wide range of Industry and thanks to Indians was able to recover back many of his factories, who were turned into rubble. With him he talked on forming cricket, and how it could bring back Coxjee his lost reputation, due to closeness of His team. "Well Wazir, I can give you money, not like old days but yes can give you, but I want complete control of the Board". Shocked Wazir, not trying to be rude "It would be a board for Jinnahpur Cricket Team and not Coxjee team sir". "Then what is the use of me investing money in it. I put in the money, you run it and politicians have the profit". "No no sir. You got me all wrong. As I told you, biggest benefit is that you would be known as reviver of the Cricket Team, and as a shareholder in the Board, which will be another company, a share of the profit's". "You plan to have the board as a company" replied the surprised Coxjee."Oh yes sir, we Mohajir's are professional and will be here too. It would be a company" and then taking out the structure he had thought "It would be a company with 50% shareholding of a Trust and 50% of the investors, and the Board would comprise of 6 Members of regional boards, all cricketers and 1 president again a cricketer besides 1 government and 3 member of the 50% shareholders". "You have been doing a lot of thinking" chuckled Coxjee "But with such a structure no one will invest. You have cricketers running the business. They will want to have more tests rather than 20-20 for the pure cricket. No sir" said Coxjee. "Then what structure do you want sir". "Have 50% private stake of investors and have 5 representation from board" said Coxjee realizing whoever owns he will make profit. "It all depends on how much you invest. I can agree to 50% of investors and maybe 4 members of Corporate board representing anyone who has more than 10% stake, but cricketers will run it" with a commanding voice said Wazir.
Hence the deal was struck. The lengthy discussion resulted in Coxjee agreeing to pay six regional squads their salary, besides agreeing to let 4 more corporate house investing provided he had the title sponsorship of the team. He agreed to invest 10 Crore Rupees which was roughly 500 000 USD. Wazir continued to knock the doors of rich people. He worked hard. Just kept meeting. Some met him, many refused, but still he kept trying. With loads of haggling wrestling the lone soldier was successful. He had now got loads of Money. Now it was time for real action
He was already contacting the cricketers. When they met him, most of them were in bad state. He now could promise them some hope. He then found people willing to spread his cause. Carefully selecting the 6 people whom he intended to be regional representatives without telling them. He off course assumed he will be the president of the Board. He though that he was justified to be that much selfish.
Finally and his team managed to have 6 teams for the regions he had thought without telling anyone. He then called all the teams to his gardens and then informed people willing to leave their jobs will get a yearly contract worth 2 Lakh. Most of the people were poor. They had come with such hopes itself. He then introduced the lawyer send by Mr Coxjee and he came out asking people to take their cheque and sign the contracts.
It was a dream come true for Wazir. He then along with the six representatives went to Coxjee office where they were provided a space for JCB or Jinnahpur Cricket Board. Joined by Aly Mitha the government representative and 4 other board members all the details were discussed. The domestic tournaments, ICC recognition, when will team start playing, how will future talent come and so on"
The local league had started and after a short visit the ICC happily gave them Associate Status. Test was a little far away. Only Punjabistan and Paktunistan had got the same.
Then one day sitting in office Wazir got a call. His face got red. When he put down the phone, asked Rehmat the board member what happened. "We have got to arrange a team soon. I had asked Kenyan to come, they have agreed to come provided we cover all the traveling and staying costs" said Wazir. "But they should do it" protested Rehmat. "It is the start, don worry I will get it done" smiled Wazir.
Emergency board meeting was called. A performance of players was discussed and a team was formed.
Finally the day came. The stadium was a house full. The Kenyans were known to be strong. The match developed a lot of interest. Sitting in the executive area was Coxjee, Wazir and the Minister Abu Latif. "I always told him it would be hit, encouraged him to go ahead, and gave all the support" said Abu Latif. "Oh yes sir without it could never have been possible" said Wazir, with Coxjee giving a smile, but wazir din feel sad. He had got what he always dreamt of- A Jinnahpur team playing and it was right in front of his eyes. He smiled and enjoyed the match.
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fiction. Show all posts
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Friday, 31 December 2010
What is my Culture
As I sat in the Train I was thinking of old times. When I was born my parents used to tell me those were progressive times. Some people also called us "Model Economy". Then our neighbor the biggest enemy had 2 wars with us. In first we tried to gain territory but lost the war. In second they cut us into 2. Then the war in Afghanistan.
It was the time that I got married. Thankfully it was for the new marriage and love of my wife that I stopped from becoming a Jehadi. Oh Jehadi's soon they were all over. What they wanted I really never understood. Probably always fighting really motivated them or was it injustice? It is a point I can debate and debate from both sides but never agree with one.
As a Seraiki there are many similar unanswered question. Are Seraiki's Punjabi with a different dialect probably with Sindhi Effect, or are we a separate race with separate culture. I really don't know. Many of my people still debate, again I am lost
Oh but the Jehadi's, they came and just kept coming. Bombs were fun for them, but as my teritory never had got the development were always saved from them. They wanted those explosions in developed areas. Finally came the floods. I lost everything. My beautiful wife, 2 sons and a daughter. House of Mud just dissolved, maybe my small farm would be more fertile. But what use was it for me. I was lost. Lost everything, also lost the direction
And then when everybody was asking for separation. It was the buzz word. The Baluch had been always asking, the Sindhi's also did. The Pashtun's were confused. No not for their identity but Afghanistan or not. Even the Mohajir's had their identity. Oh we were still confused. It is then someone got up, said no state now. Separate country. Mr Jinnah was so happy now.
We heard of so many riots, Karachi, Quetta were hotbeds. Oh the people loved their fighting. But hey all leader, that is not the only fight, do sometimes think of fighting poverty of your people. I was Hungry. I wanted food. My land needed some yound hands, oh Kushal & Reaz my sons, I really miss you both. For such a selfish reason. But I am hungry my children.
I had enough of all that. Took this same train, arrived in Lahore. I thought being a metric will find some job, "even the Master's are laborer uncle" said the willy thekedar Naseer. That shrewd clever hawk made my bones crumble and just gave me 2 roti with onion and achaar.
One day while working tired I looked at the sun, and that is what I remember. Got up to find myself in a old shabby Hospital. It was run by a kind Sikh Lady just called Bijee from India who on hearing about the state came here to help. Oh India, they must be behind all this. Oh really, if they had so much control, then why did Mr Jinnah you separate. I have heard now there are no hungry people. They don't have Naseer's they say. We always looked at them envied them, try to beat them. But somehow, I hate them, do not know why, but it is inside me. I am sorry Bijee when I get fine I will leave this place
Thinking all this was interupted, I heard a boom. The Pashtun warlord had reached the outskirts of our dear Lahore. They were again coming on the old route which their ancestors took. At that time you killed qafir's silly. We are Muslims. Boom. Another one exploded near me, to bring me back to reality. Got up, badly looking for one earthly possession I have my shoes. Oh where is it, din know but picked any shoes and ran out. 30 Km away was the dream place. Many people had escaped there. Most of them were thrown back. India.
Just walking on my feet kept going there. Was I the only one. Oh no. I could see no end. On the way were many more Bijee's and Sardar Sahib's from India with their food camps or called Langar's. It was equivalent to mocking us and serving us food. How much could they be like this. Oh Indians you are behind this and now you mock us. I hate these Indians
Oh far I found many tents. And also Tanks, guns, Soldiers. Have the Pashtun's reached here to massacre us. Oh no. They are all wearing dresses. Look disciplined. Now you Indians have stepped on our soil. Oh you must be loving it. Laughing at us. We competed with you. Defeated you at Cricket Hockey. We were better than you but you destroyed us.
The Indians had stopped us. We were taken behind the security lines, to save from the Massacre. Oh in front of me an old man collapsed. Oh he has something. Is it food. I must rush to get it. But these old bones. Before I could reach it was all over. Only what was left was the common man's news paper Jang.
I picked to read it. On the front page what a terrible site. So many dead bodies in thee picture. You cannot count them. It was a Pashtun Army run over by Baluch's. The Pashtun were parked right outside Karachi. It was a revenge by Baluch's over killing all their brothers when the Pashtun's had captured Quetta.
Oh this bloodshed. Mr Jinnah how do you feel. The Indians surely must be happy. Their plans worked.
Staying in the camp was difficult. Sometimes I got the food. Disease was all around. Then one day came Shahbaz Sharif. The aged leader announced they needed soldiers to fight. His brother Nawaz was hanged by Pashtun. The Taliban was back. I voluntered, but the selector chucked, "Baba Apne ghar Sambhalo, apne mundeyan nu phejo" (Old man take care of your house, send ur sons instead). Then asked "kithon de rehan wale hon" (Where do you belong to). Bahawalpur. His face froze. People around me froze
Then said "Saale Seraiki ithe Jasoosi karan aaya hai" (Hey Seraiki have you come to spy on us). Kut saale nu (Thrash him). Then it was all kicks and punches. I relaxed inside me. Kushal, Reaz I am coming. Shabana my dearest I will meet you and so my cute daughter Noor. But then suddenly some shots. Oh these Indians would let me die also. They took me aside and after first aid took me to the Seraiki corner of Camp.
The Seraiki leader Mr Gilani had mobilized forces. He has mascaraed Punjabi's, Pashtun's. Sindhi's were spared and asked to leave. Oh now we were awake from our sleep when the Pashtun's had whole Pakistan with them
Over time in camp I saw people trying to escape to India. Many were shot. India was a No no. Stay here you will get you food. We will soon take you to Seraikistan. Oh what Seraikistan, but there is no Seraikistan, I told the Indian Captain. "Ab tumne bana to liya hai. Nahi bhi banaya to bana loge" (You have already made it. If not you will soon make it).
The Indians had come in Karachi. They had to save their lost brothers the "Mohajirs" They also reached Bahawalpur. The arrogance of Indian Captain was a reflection of that. They provided Punjabi's with arms and Bombarded the Pashtun positions. The Baluch were strong enough to defend themselves. The Indians always supported them. The Pashtun and Baluch were into a unsaid pact. No attacking each other. Soon everybody were back to their old borders.
Meanwhile we all were given cards. For the first time I was not a Pakistani but a Seraiki. Oh is it my identity. Oh you Indians now you mock us by providing such cards. The Punjabi's allowed us to be back in Lahore, saying you are Punjabi's only, their brothers. Seraiki is just another dialect of Punjabi. Oh Am I a Punjabi now.
A year passed in Lahore. It was always tense. Seeing my Seraiki card finding Job was difficult. I got a job of cleaning table in a Indian Hotel Chain. Oh you Indians, destroyed us and now doing business with us. We always heard something is going on. People are talking Pakistan issue would be solved. Leader met, disagreed and came back. Many of so called Seraiki's started to go back. Then one day we heard that an Brave Indian leader has landed in Peshawar. Oh really. A year ago they were fighting. Now they talk. How is it possible.
The Indian was working for what they wanted. Destruction of Pakistan. Another year passed when the same leader announced everybody is meeting in an Indian City of Dalhousie. Oh it was named after the British. Mr Jinnah got Pakistan from them, such a great leader, but these Indians are working for our destruction.
2 weeks of haggling finally produced results. The Jang during these 2 weeks was filled with Speculation. An agreement was Signed. Pakistan was over. Now it was 6 Nations. Kashmir was already taken over by Indians long time back. Punjabistan, Pakhtoonistan, Baluchistan, Jinnahpur, Seraikistan and Sind were formed. Punjabistan got Lahore and Islamabad, Pakhtoonistan got Peshawar & Quetta, Baluchistan lost quetta and got a massive aid to develop Gwadar, Jinnahpur of Mohajir. They vilified our great leader's name and Got the all important City of Karachi. Oh Indians you also took away the vein of Pakistan and gave it to your lost brothers. Sind lost Karachi, imagine the Sindhi's. They thankfully had Hyderabad and a massive aid from India to develop another port. I was to go to Seraikistan with my Bahawalpur as capital.
The Cards had sealed our fate. We could not choose our country. I had to go back. Then Indians came and asked me to report next week at Railway Station. It was my slot to go to my supposed dream home land.
Oh the week. I saw so many people coming. They had lost everything and had to start. People desperate not to leave. They had lived over generation, but no, you are not Punjabi's, you cannot stay in Lahore. I had nothing to loose except my shoes.
As the day came I came out of my Hut. Saw the city for the last time. Met my Paktun friend in the city for the last time, met my Punjabi frnds. I am a Seraiki's I shouted with tear in my eyes. Took the tonga and reached the Station. There the officer gave me the ticket and guided me towards my bogey. Many Indian volunteer's were there helping us in our destruction. Oh Indians you have been successful. You have destroyed us.
I came to my seat with all gloomy faces around. I could not find a smile except for a mad man who was just laughing. I took my seat. A pearl of tear in my eyes, cursing had a whole flashback. Thought to myself who asked for Pakistan, who gave birth to Jehadi, who mis managed the floods, who fought with each other, killed each other. Was it the Indians. They had some role but who were the real culprit. It was the dead Pakistani inside us.
Wiping my tear, I had found my real identity. I was a Seraiki. I had found my culture.
PS:- This story is an imagination of What will be the future of Pakistan. The views about India in the story do not reflect my views but merely trying to portray how a Pakistani would have been thinking. Enjoy the story :)
It was the time that I got married. Thankfully it was for the new marriage and love of my wife that I stopped from becoming a Jehadi. Oh Jehadi's soon they were all over. What they wanted I really never understood. Probably always fighting really motivated them or was it injustice? It is a point I can debate and debate from both sides but never agree with one.
As a Seraiki there are many similar unanswered question. Are Seraiki's Punjabi with a different dialect probably with Sindhi Effect, or are we a separate race with separate culture. I really don't know. Many of my people still debate, again I am lost
Oh but the Jehadi's, they came and just kept coming. Bombs were fun for them, but as my teritory never had got the development were always saved from them. They wanted those explosions in developed areas. Finally came the floods. I lost everything. My beautiful wife, 2 sons and a daughter. House of Mud just dissolved, maybe my small farm would be more fertile. But what use was it for me. I was lost. Lost everything, also lost the direction
And then when everybody was asking for separation. It was the buzz word. The Baluch had been always asking, the Sindhi's also did. The Pashtun's were confused. No not for their identity but Afghanistan or not. Even the Mohajir's had their identity. Oh we were still confused. It is then someone got up, said no state now. Separate country. Mr Jinnah was so happy now.
We heard of so many riots, Karachi, Quetta were hotbeds. Oh the people loved their fighting. But hey all leader, that is not the only fight, do sometimes think of fighting poverty of your people. I was Hungry. I wanted food. My land needed some yound hands, oh Kushal & Reaz my sons, I really miss you both. For such a selfish reason. But I am hungry my children.
I had enough of all that. Took this same train, arrived in Lahore. I thought being a metric will find some job, "even the Master's are laborer uncle" said the willy thekedar Naseer. That shrewd clever hawk made my bones crumble and just gave me 2 roti with onion and achaar.
One day while working tired I looked at the sun, and that is what I remember. Got up to find myself in a old shabby Hospital. It was run by a kind Sikh Lady just called Bijee from India who on hearing about the state came here to help. Oh India, they must be behind all this. Oh really, if they had so much control, then why did Mr Jinnah you separate. I have heard now there are no hungry people. They don't have Naseer's they say. We always looked at them envied them, try to beat them. But somehow, I hate them, do not know why, but it is inside me. I am sorry Bijee when I get fine I will leave this place
Thinking all this was interupted, I heard a boom. The Pashtun warlord had reached the outskirts of our dear Lahore. They were again coming on the old route which their ancestors took. At that time you killed qafir's silly. We are Muslims. Boom. Another one exploded near me, to bring me back to reality. Got up, badly looking for one earthly possession I have my shoes. Oh where is it, din know but picked any shoes and ran out. 30 Km away was the dream place. Many people had escaped there. Most of them were thrown back. India.
Just walking on my feet kept going there. Was I the only one. Oh no. I could see no end. On the way were many more Bijee's and Sardar Sahib's from India with their food camps or called Langar's. It was equivalent to mocking us and serving us food. How much could they be like this. Oh Indians you are behind this and now you mock us. I hate these Indians
Oh far I found many tents. And also Tanks, guns, Soldiers. Have the Pashtun's reached here to massacre us. Oh no. They are all wearing dresses. Look disciplined. Now you Indians have stepped on our soil. Oh you must be loving it. Laughing at us. We competed with you. Defeated you at Cricket Hockey. We were better than you but you destroyed us.
The Indians had stopped us. We were taken behind the security lines, to save from the Massacre. Oh in front of me an old man collapsed. Oh he has something. Is it food. I must rush to get it. But these old bones. Before I could reach it was all over. Only what was left was the common man's news paper Jang.
I picked to read it. On the front page what a terrible site. So many dead bodies in thee picture. You cannot count them. It was a Pashtun Army run over by Baluch's. The Pashtun were parked right outside Karachi. It was a revenge by Baluch's over killing all their brothers when the Pashtun's had captured Quetta.
Oh this bloodshed. Mr Jinnah how do you feel. The Indians surely must be happy. Their plans worked.
Staying in the camp was difficult. Sometimes I got the food. Disease was all around. Then one day came Shahbaz Sharif. The aged leader announced they needed soldiers to fight. His brother Nawaz was hanged by Pashtun. The Taliban was back. I voluntered, but the selector chucked, "Baba Apne ghar Sambhalo, apne mundeyan nu phejo" (Old man take care of your house, send ur sons instead). Then asked "kithon de rehan wale hon" (Where do you belong to). Bahawalpur. His face froze. People around me froze
Then said "Saale Seraiki ithe Jasoosi karan aaya hai" (Hey Seraiki have you come to spy on us). Kut saale nu (Thrash him). Then it was all kicks and punches. I relaxed inside me. Kushal, Reaz I am coming. Shabana my dearest I will meet you and so my cute daughter Noor. But then suddenly some shots. Oh these Indians would let me die also. They took me aside and after first aid took me to the Seraiki corner of Camp.
The Seraiki leader Mr Gilani had mobilized forces. He has mascaraed Punjabi's, Pashtun's. Sindhi's were spared and asked to leave. Oh now we were awake from our sleep when the Pashtun's had whole Pakistan with them
Over time in camp I saw people trying to escape to India. Many were shot. India was a No no. Stay here you will get you food. We will soon take you to Seraikistan. Oh what Seraikistan, but there is no Seraikistan, I told the Indian Captain. "Ab tumne bana to liya hai. Nahi bhi banaya to bana loge" (You have already made it. If not you will soon make it).
The Indians had come in Karachi. They had to save their lost brothers the "Mohajirs" They also reached Bahawalpur. The arrogance of Indian Captain was a reflection of that. They provided Punjabi's with arms and Bombarded the Pashtun positions. The Baluch were strong enough to defend themselves. The Indians always supported them. The Pashtun and Baluch were into a unsaid pact. No attacking each other. Soon everybody were back to their old borders.
Meanwhile we all were given cards. For the first time I was not a Pakistani but a Seraiki. Oh is it my identity. Oh you Indians now you mock us by providing such cards. The Punjabi's allowed us to be back in Lahore, saying you are Punjabi's only, their brothers. Seraiki is just another dialect of Punjabi. Oh Am I a Punjabi now.
A year passed in Lahore. It was always tense. Seeing my Seraiki card finding Job was difficult. I got a job of cleaning table in a Indian Hotel Chain. Oh you Indians, destroyed us and now doing business with us. We always heard something is going on. People are talking Pakistan issue would be solved. Leader met, disagreed and came back. Many of so called Seraiki's started to go back. Then one day we heard that an Brave Indian leader has landed in Peshawar. Oh really. A year ago they were fighting. Now they talk. How is it possible.
The Indian was working for what they wanted. Destruction of Pakistan. Another year passed when the same leader announced everybody is meeting in an Indian City of Dalhousie. Oh it was named after the British. Mr Jinnah got Pakistan from them, such a great leader, but these Indians are working for our destruction.
2 weeks of haggling finally produced results. The Jang during these 2 weeks was filled with Speculation. An agreement was Signed. Pakistan was over. Now it was 6 Nations. Kashmir was already taken over by Indians long time back. Punjabistan, Pakhtoonistan, Baluchistan, Jinnahpur, Seraikistan and Sind were formed. Punjabistan got Lahore and Islamabad, Pakhtoonistan got Peshawar & Quetta, Baluchistan lost quetta and got a massive aid to develop Gwadar, Jinnahpur of Mohajir. They vilified our great leader's name and Got the all important City of Karachi. Oh Indians you also took away the vein of Pakistan and gave it to your lost brothers. Sind lost Karachi, imagine the Sindhi's. They thankfully had Hyderabad and a massive aid from India to develop another port. I was to go to Seraikistan with my Bahawalpur as capital.
The Cards had sealed our fate. We could not choose our country. I had to go back. Then Indians came and asked me to report next week at Railway Station. It was my slot to go to my supposed dream home land.
Oh the week. I saw so many people coming. They had lost everything and had to start. People desperate not to leave. They had lived over generation, but no, you are not Punjabi's, you cannot stay in Lahore. I had nothing to loose except my shoes.
As the day came I came out of my Hut. Saw the city for the last time. Met my Paktun friend in the city for the last time, met my Punjabi frnds. I am a Seraiki's I shouted with tear in my eyes. Took the tonga and reached the Station. There the officer gave me the ticket and guided me towards my bogey. Many Indian volunteer's were there helping us in our destruction. Oh Indians you have been successful. You have destroyed us.
I came to my seat with all gloomy faces around. I could not find a smile except for a mad man who was just laughing. I took my seat. A pearl of tear in my eyes, cursing had a whole flashback. Thought to myself who asked for Pakistan, who gave birth to Jehadi, who mis managed the floods, who fought with each other, killed each other. Was it the Indians. They had some role but who were the real culprit. It was the dead Pakistani inside us.
Wiping my tear, I had found my real identity. I was a Seraiki. I had found my culture.
PS:- This story is an imagination of What will be the future of Pakistan. The views about India in the story do not reflect my views but merely trying to portray how a Pakistani would have been thinking. Enjoy the story :)
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