Heavy Mandate

OCTOBER 1998 - The news that Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif, or as PTV puts it every night, Wazir-e-Azam Muhammad Nawaz Sharif, has decided to don his batting gloves again and start jogging, has come as a blow to all cholestorati fans. There was considerable reason to believe that in him they had at last found the icon they were looking for. The PM who has visibly added to his figure since he took over the affairs of this impoverished state may have all the good reasons to turn to that boring past time, exercise, but for his considerably large and flourishing flab club, this is indeed bad news.

A quick look at Pakistan’s Who’s Who will reveal that those who matter may not have a great deal of gray matter, but they more than make up for the difference by the poundage they carry. There is no function where the heavy weights are not heavily in attendance. Recently television showed a group of solemn looking leaders praying at the Quaid’s mazar. What they were praying for is not hard to guess. Behind these gentlemen of no mean stature and girth, loomed a man who surely must be the long lost giant from Jack and the Beanstalk. The man would have put Godzilla to flight, so enormous and mountainous was his appearance. He was praying as well which at least convinced me that he was indeed from this planet. You can never be too sure these days. That he was part of the official entourage speaks well of the ruling classes.

There were days when Ghulam Dastagir, that big man from Gujranwala (where else ?) was the toast of the town - well toast is rather inappropriate considering that GD was built on the lines of a Volvo truck. But as the culture of the widening girth spread, thanks to the introduction of the six metre shalwar kameez, a dress which King Kong could wear and pass for Twiggy, there were more and more Ghulam Dastagir clones. At all party dos, inaugurating slaughter houses, doling out land papers to the miserable landless, foraging at the unending string of nikahs, weddings and valimas, the staple social diet of the rich and the corrupt, and generally available at all times for a cheery look and a beefy smile for the press, these were the icons of the times. Almost as soon as the shalwar kameez became the official dress, sartorial scales fell hundreds of metres across the country. Flab was in, gross was chic, blubber lips were the rage and 21 inch collars were de rigeur. Trousers were consigned to old trunks, belts and saris abandoned. Women and men began to open up sideways. Wide body air and land craft like the Airbus and the Cruisers were in. I think the nation never looked back and why should it have ? There is permanent joy in the ever-adjustable shalwar, a dress which induces constant manipulation of unmentionables and a license to over eat throughout the year. The shalwar asks no questions and simply yields another inch. I have yet to hear of a heavy weight who ran out of the draw string. The joys of expansion touched ministers, MNAs, MPAs and other heavy weights with joyous abandon.

In this milieu arrived Mian Nawaz Sharif, oops sorry, Wazir-e-Azam Muhammad Nawaz Sharif. First as Excise & Taxation minister in the Punjab and then onwards to bigger posts. Cricket went out of the window somewhere between his first and second stint and jogging, well I don’t know how much of that he ever had time for. A boring routine at the best of times, I doubt if it ever touched Mian Sahib’s heart, unless he could have his friends along, particularly the ones who could tell five jokes every yard. As he has wielded the enormous responsibilities of the state he has felt the pressure and while the gonormous eating revelries at weddings is over, there are many goodies still waiting to be gobbled up every other night. A member who accompanied the government delegation to China swears that they were serving nihari even while they were within Pakistan airspace. In true Kashmiri tradition, Mian Sahib is a sitting duck when it comes to the good things of life. He and entourage last week ran up a bill of Rs.15,634 at KFC Karachi ! Yes, holy cow is the expression. So where does that leave him in this rumoured fitness drive ? I don’t think he is going to pursue this course of action for long. It’s boring and time consuming and no fun. Much rather a foray with things more delectable like moti baryani (they are serving it to the Saudis this week at the fort).

Even if we can buy this business of shedding the pounds, there is the question of security. Where in the world are they ever going to find a secure park where he can jog, or a cricket ground where he can bat without ever getting out ? I don’t see any such place. Remember that every time he takes a commercial flight to save us some money, the whole air traffic system comes to a grinding halt. If he has to be in public parks, we can just as well kiss them goodbye. Personally I don’t see why he can’t have all the parks he wants. The public is too busy anyway fighting inflation and even if they took to the parks, chances are half of them will be dead of cardiac failure before they are round the first bend. However since this is a government of heavy mandates, the PM can do what all his predecessors have been doing. Mr. Millat himself built an Olympic swimming pool not too long ago and frankly I doubt President Tarrar can be persuaded to dive into it every evening. Mr. Zardari the horseman had his polo fields, so if Mian Sahib wants a cricket pitch complete with ground and score board, why not ? Perhaps Mr. Altaf Hussain can come over for net practice one of these days or Mushahid Hussain can bowl him lolly pops. You never know.