Haroon Malik November 3, 2007

Tags: emergency , Pakistan , Musharraf , people , citizens , workers

/> But the floods are good. The more disastrous and uncontrollable they are the more quickly they change the lands. Nothing can escape and avoid their effects. Floods are the ruthless change agents, destroying everything standing on their way and leaving behind fertile and productive soil. But that’s all legend of an uncontrollable force that grows somewhere is the womb of a starving, frustrated society. What am I thinking of, all rubbish.

Let me get out and go to work for my lords. My lords need my blood to sow prosperity into their lands; the prosperity that will definitely give strength to their arms. The arms that carry the whip that lashes deep into the backs which carry heads that think about the uncontrollable forces. But I don’t know; where are these mighty forces lost? It’s only these forces that can seep into the strongly built forts of oppression?

I am a common man. I am nothing but a needless creature; an unwanted figure; an ugly object in the web of time and space. I don’t know why they essentially need me in factories, in farms and in processions. Perhaps I am not needless to them. Have I been created by the unseen to be ruled by my lords; to keep their machines running; to add to their riches through my sincere, continuous efforts?

But I owe to them too much; they feed me upon the grains that I grow in their fields. I don’t know why can’t we stand? But it’s natural that the farms and gardens can’t stand the strong winds, the hailing and the storms.

Perhaps I am again thinking a wrong way; thinking of uncontrollable, lost forces. Seems the back that carries my head needs to be whipped. I don’t know why I insist upon thinking the same sinful way time and again. They must be some ‘evil’ forces that destroyed many kingdoms; the kingdoms of great lords. All the important, essential and sane persons in this land of hatred and oppression have been declared lords and they want to lead us the ways that will keep us going.

But I can’t waste time; I need to go to the farms where the toil is waiting for me that I am made for. But they say the lands will be barren and winds will be violent, how would I stand them? The winds, the floods, the earthquakes, the hailing, the rains, all of them damage my interests; my houses; my streets. The nature sounds ruthless at times.

Oh I need to be whipped badly with my thoughts stumbling, my words betraying, my fingers trembling and the watch dogs observing me. I cannot afford a day; I better go to and wear the darkness, so that they can’t see me. O my lords cover my world with the darkness, the darkness of ignorance, the darkness of injustice, the darkness of inequality, brutality, the darkness of lawlessness. I plead you because I feel the lost force somewhere inside that can cause meager change. But I am faithfully yours. I do not want the folks knowing this force inside that can be disastrous for your systems.