Party Poopers

AUGUST 2000 - Why is everyone against fun times ? Aren’t there enough problems depressing the daylights of the people without the government becoming a bad sport and banning the only genuine entertainment we have ever had ? The news that convicts cannot hold party office has come as a major set back in a country where the only entertainment is reading what Qazi Hussain has to say this week. I am of course acting on the assumption that Mr. Munshi ( I assume that is his name and not his job description) meant by party office simply party office and not office party. As far as I know, and that is not much, there is no law that says convicts cannot have an office party.

While this news has not been received well by the political parties who haven’t had a break since a few stragglers clambered up a gate in Islamabad and brought down the heaviest mandate we ever had in less than 20 minutes. It is a sobering thought because ordering a plate of ‘fried chirras’ in good old Gujranwala takes longer. Personally I think Mian Sahib would have been devastated had the khakis banned office parties, Mian Sahib being a genuine party-time man. As it is, although this new ordinance issued by His Holiness formerly of Johar Town, Lahore, hits Mian Sahib’s political future, such as this nebulous entity may be, right smack in the midriff, his first thoughts surely will be of relief that he can still party in or outside the office. This should send a cheer down the rank and file – mostly rank, of the PML which is populated by some of the largest men seen since Godzilla came out of the ocean many years ago. All PML workers, irrespective of their girth (yet to be established since apparently no tape measure can be found that exceeds half a mile), are party animals and when not belting out highly charged slogans are seen shaking a leg and doing the hustle.

Now we all have nothing against ordinances since they have been in existence longer than the country and are also more resilient and effective compared to laws which no one has any time for any way. In fact so used to are the people with receiving two dozen ordinances a day that there is great public anxiety should there be an occasion when an ordinance hasn’t made an appearance. Of course ordinances have nothing in common with the Pakistan Ordnance Factories except that no one has yet determined which ones are more lethal. What is wrong with the new ones issued with all the fanfare generally associated with the launch of yet another weapon of mass destruction (and peace) made by that brilliant doctor whose name temporarily escapes me, is that it effectively kills the best show in town. With Mian Nawaz Sharif, Benazir Bhutto – I think she was once the prime minister of the country though she is better known as a circuit guest speaker and that man of spices and condiments, Altaf Hussain who sadly resides elsewhere, out of the game, there is not going to be much fun left in politics. This is a sad blow and clearly demonstrates that the khakis have no sense of humour.

With Mian Sahib no longer being allowed to hold a office party / party office (frankly the ordinance is still confusing on this point even on closer inspection), out will go some of the most entertaining folklore of this country. Wonderful, aromatic tales of Mian Sahib personally giving the last finishing touches to delicately-cooked ‘shab deghs’, will no longer form part of the country’s culture. We will have nothing better to look to other than turnips and cabbages, terms that were sometimes used by the PML’s opponents to describe the party’s bright lights. Legendary ‘harrisas’ and ‘payas’ served on VIP flights as important delegations winged their way to Davos, China or the States, will simply become folk tales and forgotten in a few years. With Mian Sahib a convict – horrible thought, the ‘mithai’ and ‘kalakand’ industry, the only real industry we have, housed in the only genuine industrial centre we have, Gowalmandi, Lahore, will simply wither and die. Gone with Mian Sahib’s disqualification will be the popular culture that he exemplified where a man was taken seriously only if he went over 300 pounds on a reliable machine in a weigh station installed in Model Town. Gone too would be that wonderful tradition where everyone who could say a few words of praise would be instantly rewarded with plots, concessions, bank write offs and other such small discretionary do dads. In return for all those glorious traditions, what are we getting ? Swagger sticks, starched uniforms, shiny, hobnailed boots and brass pots polished till they scream for mercy. This is a sad commentary on life here in the next century (we have officially written this one off). No longer will he have presidents for life in a political party without elections, which let’s remember, are a nuisance at best. No more grand schemes like motorways and no more choppered-visits to rape victims wherever they may be.

And what of the Lady of the Dupatta, the woman who has played a unique role in furthering the cause of Urdu as it should be spoken and whose collected works ‘daikhen hain, kehtay hain, suntay hain’ are up for the Booker Prize next year, the Daughter of the East mostly found in the West and who was so brilliant she couldn’t even take a candy out of a jar without getting her hand stuck in it ? Her exit from the political circus is going to mean a drop in revenues. When she and chubby-hubby were performing, they brought the house down and ended up having bought another one in Surrey, whose purchase for the life of them they could not remember (stranger things have happened in Mr. Jinnah’s strange land). The first time, they were so clumsy they couldn’t find their way about in Islamabad, got lost and got kicked out. The next time, they came armed with maps to the national vaults, crowbars and other tools that politicians use over the weekends. This time they went to town and when they were done, there was no town. It is one of the last century’s great success stories. Now they have so many properties, they have decided to go into the real estate business. During their two stints, they did what must be done when you finally arrive in the capital. They promoted nepotism and cronyism, two national favourites, gave away so much land that there was talk of importing soil and helped the rich get richer thereby strengthening Pakistan’s eternal and most successful club. All this was done while democracy (and polo) were religiously promoted. When he slipped and she fell, she flew and became a speaker and a moralist who now preaches like a saint to her robbed people. With the ordinance in and BB out, there really will no longer be any reason to read the newspapers, which come to think of it is not such a bad idea.

Which brings us to Altaf Hussain, the man who explained to a grateful world that drill machines are not necessarily for making large holes in mortar and wood. For his revolutionary thinking in the field of applied humanities, he has been awarded permanent residence in the home of democracy where he plans more ingenious schemes of using hack saws, knives, pliers and hammers to better serve the people of Pakistan. He is a much loved figure and a favourite customer of BTL since he has won five years running, the award for the longest international phone calls. His departure from our scene will be a major set back to all industries which manufacture sharp objects. These and other equally worthy people who will not be playing a role here, is indeed a blow to all we ever hoped for.