There Might Not be a Tomorrow

This article was prompted by reports in several Pakistani dailys (in May 98) about gunfights that had taken place on the QAU campus between rival political student groups; a situation common enough on most Pakistani campuses, but which had so far eluded the QAU (Quaid-e-Azam University).


It has been more than two years since I graduated from the Quaid-e-Azam University with a
Masters in Physics. I have travelled many roads since the last time I
drove down Islamabad's winding lanes amid smiles and songs, in a big
blue University bus. I have eaten in many countries since the last time I ate at the huts, seen many hills other than Margalla, and
have studied many new things since the last time I crammed for a terminal. (QAU lingo for final exam). Many new images have been burnt into my mind in these
past two years, but none is strong enough to divert attention from the pictures I always carry with me, of life at the University.

It was a wonderful time I spent there. Full of friendship, laughter and a sense of holy wonder at the immensity of the knowledge that
was
unfolding before our very eyes. A whole new treasure trove; ours, for the taking.

I am not saying that the QAU was perfect, or even that it had reached its own fullest potential. It hurt me even then, to realise the
sheer amount of intellectual wastage that was going on, at this, the best university in Pakistan. I was tortured by the thought that
things could, so easily, with such little effort, be so different, so much better than they were. But the love inspired by the place was
so great, that somehow hope always got the better of despair.

We loved it so much even as it was, that no matter where we went, the
desire to return to Pakistan, and be in a situation where we could
actually make true our vision, beat strong and fast in our hearts always.

Yes, I have studied at places where it is "easier" to study. Yes, I have been at places where there are many more facilities, fuller
libraries, and much more money. But I never for a second dwelt on staying there. I never managed to erase the image of MY
univeristy from my mind and reconcile myself to staying in these "easier" more academically conducive environments. Somehow,
they do not inspire as strong an emotion. They do not pull with as much force.

I suppose part of the pull of the QAU is cultural. It is home, with
all the associated charms and comforts. Your own language, your own
delicious food, your own country all around you, in all its beautiful
glory. You breathe your own air, have much more liberty to do what you
want, can wheedle and cajole people into doing something differenlt
from the way it is "supposed" to be done. You know the "system", and
ways to beat it. There are things you can improve, and things you can
get around. The whole place belongs to YOU heart and soul. You own it. It owns you. The feeling is amazingly freeing. And there is
no way you can appreciate it truly until you have been an "alien" as we are now called, in a foreign culture.

But then there is another pull too. It is just a bond of pure love. You cannot help but love a place that gave you so many beautiful
memories. Eternal gifts that you are free to unwrap whenever you so please, and yet the sparkle on them never fades... You cannot
help but want to make it the best possible place it can be. An internationally recognized institution; one where the Pakistanis
currently studying abroad can return to, to do at home what they are presently doing in academic exile. All of us, who are
constrained to travel across the seas to find what is not readily avaiable at home, dream for a day when this long and arduous
journey will no longer be necessary. When it will be possible to stay in our own country, and yet reap the harvest of higher
knowledge.

There are enough of us to make that happen. Enough of us who want to go back home and change things. Enough of us, with
enough young enthusiasm as yet in our veins, that given half a chance, we CAN yet turn this tide of apathy that sweeps across
Pakistan.

And the QAU was not so far gone as to be a lost cause. It was still
vibrant enough and alive enough to be a tantalising challenge. The kind of puzzle that stays with you, and teases your mind, and
brings you back to try your hand at it once more. A do-able task; rendered more intellectually enjoyable because of its conundrums.

For me, it has always been the ultimate goal. Having actually studied
there for two years, I know the QAU inside out. I have felt the magic of the institution, and know the charm it exerts. I have
experienced, first hand, the many pitfalls that exist with the "system", I have felt pangs of frustration when things were not what
they should have been. I have been with it through good times, and bad. I have heard its jubilant voice raised in celebration, and I
have heard too, its cries for help. And what has sustained me all this time is the thought that once I am done with my PhD I will
make a beeline home. Straight to the QAU.

Ideas flow in my mind all the time about how to make it a better place. Anything I have seen anywhere in the world that looks like it
would help my university, or could be implemented there is immediately stored away in this little corner of my head under the title
"When I Go Back Home ..."

But like I said, all the QAU images in my mind were two years old, and it seems that now there is a new image being painted, even
as I write. A new force to contend with. One that has the power to wipe out the image that all the beauty and luxury in two
continents could not overwrite. It has the power to erase for ever, the hope and dream of a Pakistani university being one of the
most respected institutions in the world.

And unfortunately, as always, it is a force of our own making.

Though the QAU has never, in the past decade atleast, come close to
reaching its academic peak -- (we have only heard tales of what it used to be about twenty years ago) -- atleast it was always a
peaceful university. There were no strikes, no major fights, none of the problems that plague institutions elsewhere in Pakistan.

But this past year seems to have brought a stop even to this last vestige of decency that remained. The QAU has gone from being
a very alive, young, up and coming institution to being a tired university that only at times regains a hint of its former ebullience, as
it marches valiently on,keeping itself going in the hope that one day it will be rescued.

But now, with this new wave of violence, it seems that our last hope is being rudely snatched from us too. The past year has seen
the QAU as the seat of many conflicts, many loudly voiced controversies, many fights, many strikes. And finally, when it seemed
things were quieting down, politics again has reared its ugly head, and the Jamaat, not satisfied with the conquest of the Punjab
University wants to feed its devouring appetite with yet another university swallowed whole.

They can do it too. It has been a whole generation since anyone thought of the Punjab University as actually being a place of
learning. But it was not always the way we see it today. The Punjab University once used to be an institution people were proud to
attend. An academic institution in every sense of the word. But just look at the way public perception of it has changed these past
few decades, and not without reason.

With the QAU, we are hanging over the very same edge. It has not yet been tossed into the ravine from which there is no visible
escape... it is lingering still on the edge of the cliff.

I can hear its cries sitting two oceans away. Can you not hear them where you are?

This is not just one more insitution to hand over calmly to the gods of war. No university ever was... We need to stop accepting
these things as the due course of life in Pakistan. Violence on campuses has to stop.
Politics has no place inside the hallowed portals of a seat of learning. What have our politicians done for us in the rest of the
country that we should let them invade our last sanctuaries, our last forlorn hopes?

The QAU right now, is not just an institution. It is a symbol; it is the last hope for the Pakistani educational system. This is a war we
need to win, if we are EVER to turn the tide. There comes a point beyond which no ship can hold water, the very next drop makes it
sink. We are at that point right now.

This latest situation of gunfights at the QAU is the last drop of water our ship cannot take. Keeping it out, winning this battle, will
not find us on dry land, but atleast we will stay afloat. At least there will still be hope.

For the thousands of Pakistani students abroad right now, that hope is
what is carrying us through our educations. For us at this point in time, the destination is home. Despite all its problems, despite all
its daily frustrations, we are still rooting to go home. But it is a precarious balance. One more drop of water, and the ship will sink.
There will be no more home to go to. Though we are in foreign lands today, we are not and will never be homeless as long as our
home exists, somewhere; as an anchor, a beacon, a destination.

But one more institution lost to learning, one more university
turned into a political battle field --- and many thousands of
Pakistanis will be lost and disillusioned forever; stripped of their
roots, stripped of their wings; left with nothing to return to.

It is all this and more, which is at stake right now. Will we still sit idly by and do nothing? There might not be a tomorrow.