Source : http://thenews.com.pk/TodaysPrintDetail.aspx?ID=37222&Cat=9
This morning Iwas driving mycar on acrowded road ofa city in a sovereigncountry. Suddenly, I saw two peo-ple approaching my car from bothsides. One was an 80-year-old fe-male with a hunchback, and theother was another 80-year-old fe-male with another hunchback.Looking at this twin case of oldhunchbacks, I quickly concludedthat I was about to be killed. So Idecided that I should better fearfor my life, took out my gun andshot both the hunchbacked ladiesright there and then. Then I waitedfor a few hours on the same spot.Waited for a rescue car to arriveand kill some other lady with orwithout a hunchback, waited for amob to gather and stop me from es-caping, waited for a police case toregister itself, waited for my lead-ers to make heartfelt pleas for myacquittal, waited for the state topay blood money to the families ofthe deceased hunchbacked ladies,and waited to be whisked away ona fancy aircraft in honour of thecrime I had committed.Yet, nothing happened. And as Istood there for hours waiting for adiplomatic immunity to show itself,it suddenly hit me. I was not analien spy in a sovereign countrykilling people so that I could betreated like royalty. I was a merecitizen of the mere sovereign coun-try, who had killed some othermere citizens of the same sover-eign country. And according to thelaw of the mere sovereign country,two mere citizens when present inclose proximity of each other, ab-solutely cancel the mere effect ofone another.So there was no rescue carcoming for me. In fact, my rescuecar was probably busy hoardingsugar somewhere, or counting dol-lars in a secret vault, or protestingcourt decisions on the roads of ametropolis, or simply killing someother hunchbacked ladies on thestreets of some other cities at thebehest of some other sovereigncountry. So the next time I kill peoplerandomly on the street, I must re-member to find my own diplomaticimmunity, and ask the dead peopleto get up and pay their families theblood money themselves. After all,how can these honourable deadpeople accept money from me, theactual killer of the dead people? Ithas to be paid by the dead peopleagainst whom the crime has beencommitted. It’s a question of thedead people’s honour isn’t it?As for Raymond Davis (or ‘Dia-mond Davis’ as his local investiga-tors called him), let’s not forgethim in a hurry, and let’s have hisimage carved out in gold and put iton the flag of Pakistan.In fact, here’s a plan. Since goldis too expensive now, why don’t weall nominate one member of ourfamilies each to be killed by Ray-mond Davis, on crowded city roadsin broad day light, and then ask thestate of Pakistan to pay us someblood money each? Not only wouldit pay off all our loans, but it wouldalso take care of our daily financialwoes, pay for our children’s educa-tion, rid us of all worries, and at theend of the day leave us enoughcash to build some Davis templesin our houses. . And all this in ex-change of just one, ordinary lifeeach, sacrificed by all Pakistanihouseholds.Amazing plan isn’t it? Soundsbetter than selling our children onthe streets. I never really liked that‘I am selling my children’ plan. Itlost its fizz pretty quickly, and itwasn’t even feasible in the longrun. Who would want to buy chil-dren with green passports anyway? I mean even if you are a phil-anthropic celebrity wanting tomake a rainbow family, there areplenty of other colours to choosefrom. And come to think of it, eventhe rainbow doesn’t have thecolour green any more, or does it?So let’s try my plan and volun-teer ourselves to be killed. And doall that in the spirit of reconcilia-tion and democracy. After all if MrZardari can call an ailing NawazSharif a national asset in the samespirit, if the Army Chief can call theordinary incident of drone attacks‘foul play’ in the same spirit, thenwhy can’t we nominate ourselvesto be killed in the same spirit aswell? This is the least we can do forour beloved Do More ally in thewar against terror. And then look atall the population we can controlthis way.Hey, here’s an idea. Why don’twe revamp the population ministryaltogether and call it the assassina-tion ministry. Let’s call RaymondDavis back and make him our as-sassination minister. All thosepoliticians willing to step downfrom your constituencies and in-vest in the election of Davis, pleaseraise your hands. C’mon guys, vol-unteer! You never know you mightget a special mention in a HillaryClinton speech one day. How coolwould that be!!And those of you who are afraidof dying, well, don’t worry people,with the new taxes coming up andthe summers descending upon uswith all its associated power short-age, pretty soon we will all bedying any way. And I believe thatit’s better to die quickly, in broadday light at the hands of a shadyAmerican rather than meet thesame fate in the middle of thenight, in a dark room full of bleakthoughts and black mosquitoes, atthe hands of something as unro-mantic as the electricity bill.Say What?The writer teaches writing at auniversity.Email: adiahafraz@gmail.com
This morning Iwas driving mycar on acrowded road ofa city in a sovereigncountry. Suddenly, I saw two peo-ple approaching my car from bothsides. One was an 80-year-old fe-male with a hunchback, and theother was another 80-year-old fe-male with another hunchback.Looking at this twin case of oldhunchbacks, I quickly concludedthat I was about to be killed. So Idecided that I should better fearfor my life, took out my gun andshot both the hunchbacked ladiesright there and then. Then I waitedfor a few hours on the same spot.Waited for a rescue car to arriveand kill some other lady with orwithout a hunchback, waited for amob to gather and stop me from es-caping, waited for a police case toregister itself, waited for my lead-ers to make heartfelt pleas for myacquittal, waited for the state topay blood money to the families ofthe deceased hunchbacked ladies,and waited to be whisked away ona fancy aircraft in honour of thecrime I had committed.Yet, nothing happened. And as Istood there for hours waiting for adiplomatic immunity to show itself,it suddenly hit me. I was not analien spy in a sovereign countrykilling people so that I could betreated like royalty. I was a merecitizen of the mere sovereign coun-try, who had killed some othermere citizens of the same sover-eign country. And according to thelaw of the mere sovereign country,two mere citizens when present inclose proximity of each other, ab-solutely cancel the mere effect ofone another.So there was no rescue carcoming for me. In fact, my rescuecar was probably busy hoardingsugar somewhere, or counting dol-lars in a secret vault, or protestingcourt decisions on the roads of ametropolis, or simply killing someother hunchbacked ladies on thestreets of some other cities at thebehest of some other sovereigncountry. So the next time I kill peoplerandomly on the street, I must re-member to find my own diplomaticimmunity, and ask the dead peopleto get up and pay their families theblood money themselves. After all,how can these honourable deadpeople accept money from me, theactual killer of the dead people? Ithas to be paid by the dead peopleagainst whom the crime has beencommitted. It’s a question of thedead people’s honour isn’t it?As for Raymond Davis (or ‘Dia-mond Davis’ as his local investiga-tors called him), let’s not forgethim in a hurry, and let’s have hisimage carved out in gold and put iton the flag of Pakistan.In fact, here’s a plan. Since goldis too expensive now, why don’t weall nominate one member of ourfamilies each to be killed by Ray-mond Davis, on crowded city roadsin broad day light, and then ask thestate of Pakistan to pay us someblood money each? Not only wouldit pay off all our loans, but it wouldalso take care of our daily financialwoes, pay for our children’s educa-tion, rid us of all worries, and at theend of the day leave us enoughcash to build some Davis templesin our houses. . And all this in ex-change of just one, ordinary lifeeach, sacrificed by all Pakistanihouseholds.Amazing plan isn’t it? Soundsbetter than selling our children onthe streets. I never really liked that‘I am selling my children’ plan. Itlost its fizz pretty quickly, and itwasn’t even feasible in the longrun. Who would want to buy chil-dren with green passports anyway? I mean even if you are a phil-anthropic celebrity wanting tomake a rainbow family, there areplenty of other colours to choosefrom. And come to think of it, eventhe rainbow doesn’t have thecolour green any more, or does it?So let’s try my plan and volun-teer ourselves to be killed. And doall that in the spirit of reconcilia-tion and democracy. After all if MrZardari can call an ailing NawazSharif a national asset in the samespirit, if the Army Chief can call theordinary incident of drone attacks‘foul play’ in the same spirit, thenwhy can’t we nominate ourselvesto be killed in the same spirit aswell? This is the least we can do forour beloved Do More ally in thewar against terror. And then look atall the population we can controlthis way.Hey, here’s an idea. Why don’twe revamp the population ministryaltogether and call it the assassina-tion ministry. Let’s call RaymondDavis back and make him our as-sassination minister. All thosepoliticians willing to step downfrom your constituencies and in-vest in the election of Davis, pleaseraise your hands. C’mon guys, vol-unteer! You never know you mightget a special mention in a HillaryClinton speech one day. How coolwould that be!!And those of you who are afraidof dying, well, don’t worry people,with the new taxes coming up andthe summers descending upon uswith all its associated power short-age, pretty soon we will all bedying any way. And I believe thatit’s better to die quickly, in broadday light at the hands of a shadyAmerican rather than meet thesame fate in the middle of thenight, in a dark room full of bleakthoughts and black mosquitoes, atthe hands of something as unro-mantic as the electricity bill.Say What?The writer teaches writing at auniversity.Email: adiahafraz@gmail.com
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