May 27, 2012
Najmul Hasan Rizvi

Long March has become a fashion in Pakistan’s politics today. Since Nawaz Sharif did his ‘catwalk’ to win restoration of the supreme judge, ‘long march’ has become a ‘battle cry’ of every leader, Mr Right said, commenting on a threat by a group of people to stage a ‘long march’ to prevent Nato trucks from rolling into Afghanistan, if the government decided to resume supplies.

“In fact, I support it,” I said. “A long march is badly needed by many of our political ‘heavy-weights’ who do nothing except eating, sleeping and collecting funds and fat. A long march might help them trim their bodies.”

“You may be right,” Mr Right replied. “But this so-called long march is not a march at all, because nobody there is seen walking on foot. You will be disappointed to know that it’s a mobile march with marchers riding on motor cars.”

“Then we should call it a ‘drive to plunder petrol’, which would lead nowhere and only aggravate our fuel shortage,” I said. “The government must take steps to stop these ‘fashion parades’.

“On the contrary, I think that the government should never try to stop any long march,“ Mr Right argued. “It should rather facilitate the long march by setting up food and water stalls for participants, provided they go on marching on foot from Karachi to the border of Afghanistan.”

“The same principle should be applied to protest rallies in big cities. People should be asked to go on foot to public meetings,” I pointed out. “Political parties have developed a trick to bring their supporters to public meetings from distant places in hired and sometimes ‘seized’ vehicles choking city streets and causing ugly traffic jams.”

“The impending long march by the group of people calling themselves ‘protectors’ of the country is the latest in a series of long marches announced by leaders belonging to all parties represented by lions, bulls and zebras,” Mr Right observed.

“Well, lions have threatened to stalk Islamabad, I know, if the ‘convicted prime minister’ does not give up his seat,” I said. “But who are the Zebras?” I asked. “What they are up to?”

“They have striped flags, representing a confused lot,” Mr Right said. “They like nobody and nobody likes them. And they think a long march will take them to the doors of a wonderland where there will be no infidels and no flying bombs.”

“Do you mean, it’s a game of playing with the destiny of a confused people?” I looked at him.

“In reality we are a confused people and the most confused among us find them fit to rule the country,” Mr Right said. “That’s why they believe that the only purpose of being in power is to complete the five-year term.”

“But the irony is that if they complete the five-year term, they would consider it a feat and expect their voters to elect them for another five years of utter confusion,” I laughed.

“For the ruling party, democracy is a form of government which is by a confused people, of a confused people, and for a confused people,” Mr Right said.

“They never mind if the line between right and wrong is so blurred that they are unable to differentiate between a law-maker and a law-breaker,” I said.

“Who knows the future planners who are less confused might propose to build the city’s largest prison next to parliament,” Mr Right grinned.
Najmul Hasan Rizvi is a former Assistant Editor of Khaleej Times
Source: Khaleej Times