For the past 12 hours on television I have been seeing injured people being carried out of the Red Zone, their blood painting the Constitution Avenue red. The sights reminded me of a historic speech.

In 1944 during the Second World War, the great Indian nationalist, Subhas Chandra Bose, motivated troops of the Indian National Army in Burma with the promise, “Give me blood, and I shall give your freedom.”

The INA was ready to shed blood. But just because a loyalist is willing to give his life does not mean the leader should take it as he pleases.

Bose’s army was pinned against the British Raj, who controlled India but were not Indians. They imposed their laws, their government, their trade, their way of life; and had taken away sovereignty, independence and self-determination from the Indians.

The Indians could not win back the control of the sub-continent through campaigning and elections. They had to fight for it. Bose asked for blood as neither did he see any peaceful option nor did the British present one. And in 1947, when India and Pakistan finally won their independence, it was done at the back of a broken and weakened British Empire who had suffered greatly during the Second World War.

Read on:Battleground Islamabad: Clashes continue as Imran, Qadri seek 'revolution'

Tahirul Qadri also made a promise to motivate his troops during the past two weeks. He assured them that his would be the first chest to receive a bullet if the government authorities launch a crack down on his inqilab. In the same breath, he sought the assurance of his troops to stand by him and prepare for sacrifice. His party distributed ‘kafans’ to the young, the old, the women and the men.

The question then becomes: was it necessary for Qadri to shed the blood of his loyalists? Qadri, unlike Bose, is not fighting a foreign government. He very much embraced this system of government in all its colours. He contested elections in 1990 and in 1997 in coalition with PPP under a civilian caretaker setup. He then accepted elections under a dictator in 2002 and won a seat as a MNA with which he took an oath on the floor of the parliament to protect the Constitution.

However, last night he ordered his thousands of followers to abrogate that Constitution when he directed them to march towards the Prime Minister’s House.

Also read:A disastrous turn of events

He runs a formally registered political party for which doors are open to contest in any election. He purposefully boycotted the 2008 and 2013 elections and chose to stay outside the system and even the country. This was a bitter man who despite his self-proclaimed huge following, has failed to turn that following into electoral success. He did not even attempt to win the popular mandate for his 'hundreds of thousands of followers', and instead always used them as a ready-to-deploy workforce for dharnas.

Tahirul Qadri has dismissed the legal way to win the rights of his people and instead opted for the path of violence, as per convenience. His fight is not so much of a freedom fighter but that of a traitor and an opportunist; and his mode of action similar to that of Maulana Abdul Aziz of Lal Masjid.

Aziz did not believe in the Constitution or the government formed under it. Qadri doesn’t either.

Aziz did not bother to turn his demands into legislative reforms through the Parliament. Qadri didn’t either.

Aziz’s followers — both men and women — were armed with guns and batons. Qadri’s followers are also armed with batons if not more fatal weapons.

Aziz wanted to physically take over the capital. Qadri tried to make the same move last night.

The only difference between Aziz and Qadri is the nature of the system they wanted to impose — the operative word here being ‘impose’.

A liberal view on minorities or women does not merit support if being applied in an extremist fashion. Those who condemned Aziz should also condemn Qadri.

With his last statement from inside his bullet-proof container — that his workers will not back down despite the shelling and firing by police forces — he has proved that for him and his personal brand of inqilab, he is willing to dispose those at his disposal.

Unfortunately, this mistake has also been committed by a man who appears to believe in democracy.

This man insisted that he would even convince Qadri to find democratic solutions to his issues. But last night, he opted to join Qadri's madness.

Explore:What is 'naya' in Naya Pakistan?

Imran Khan, to his credit, did not take permanent cover inside his container; there were periodic appearances on top of the container without any bullet-proof windows amidst shell firing.

But his was supposed to be a different march. He had the grounds of having approached various institutions in the past 14 months, for justice against electoral rigging by PML-N. His party includes not one but various senior politicians who have served in the Parliament, and have also taken the oath to protect the Constitution.

To make things even more baffling, Imran Khan has always appeared to be a pacifist. He condemned drone attacks and army operations. He had been pleading governments for a peaceful solution for the troubled northern areas of Pakistan for over 12 years, and is firm on his stance to even negotiate with the most barbaric of terrorist groups.

Imran should have taken out a leaf from his own book. He should have stayed back, a view which — if news reports are to be believed — is also shared by Javed Hashmi. He shouldn't have merged his march with that of PAT. In doing so, he, to a great extent, left his followers at the mercy of Qadri’s ambitions. Imran will have to share the responsibility of the blood spilt in Islamabad.

But Qadri and Imran are not alone. Their failure to defend their people is as much a result of the government’s failure to handle the crisis tactfully.

Take a look:When failure is victory

Nawaz Sharif, after allegations of rigging, having lied on the floor of the Parliament under oath and having allowed the police to use force on the protestors, has fallen short of any expectation one may have had from the responsible office of the Prime Minister of Pakistan.

Before the protestors are identified as PAT or PTI workers, they are citizens of Pakistan and Nawaz Sharif is their Prime Minister. He took the oath to serve and protect them in the following words:

"That, in all circumstances, I will do right to all manner of people, according to law, without fear or favour, affection or ill-will."

Nawaz Sharif’s callous comments about the empty seats during the protests, spoke volumes about his concern for “all manner of people.” An honourable, self-respecting and sincere servant of the people would have walked towards the march before it marched towards his house.

Nawaz should, at least, have spoken to democratic forces like PTI in person. There should have been a genuine attempt on his part to defuse political tension and acknowledge the sentiments of the protestors. The protestors deserved that much. Instead, he chose to express himself to Speaker of the National Assembly, a house he barely visited before.

What resulted is worse than the Model Town massacre. His government in Punjab was already guilty of brute force against the citizens of Lahore, but now they meted out the same treatment to those who protested that brutality in Islamabad.

Nawaz Sharif is a man who, it appears, does not learn his lessons. He feels safe knowing he has a certain vote bank. He is a man who can comfortably turn a blind eye to those who don’t support him, even if he is equally responsible for their safety. He is a man who is perhaps fit to lead PML-N but not Pakistan, for he is responsible for the blood spilt in Islamabad.

The unwanted burden of this mess is also shared by a fourth party and the supposed fourth pillar of the State — Media. Both groups, journalists who were biased towards the government and those biased towards this revolution, forgot their job was to report facts, and instead indulged in advocacy. Where one instigated more violence by urging people to step out and more political parties to jump into the mess, the other tried to hide the bloodshed and in doing so, has prolonged it.

Those who are not present at the march are fighting with each other on social media as to who bled more and who is more at fault. There are political workers fighting everywhere but there are hardly any Pakistanis condemning this tragedy in its entirety.

The protestors bled. Police officials bled. Pakistan bled. All of them have families and loved ones and all of them suffered from oppression and recklessness of those who are responsible for the chaos.

Today, inqilab is a fancy word to brand your politics, and the blood of your troops is cheap enough to adorn the same with it.

I do not pray for anyone’s success. I just pray for peace.

On average, for the past month, most conversations quickly devolve into two broad themes: dharnas or Gaza. I have lost count of the number of times I have encountered the phrase ‘boycott Israel’ in the past month ever since airstrikes on Gaza have escalated.

It is also difficult to avoid the inherent conflict that we face on how — or to put it more accurately — how much, we Pakistanis should feel about the suffering of Palestinians.

There is no real standard barometer to quantify suffering or empathy. Yet, I have seen and read many opinion pieces and op-eds that tended to argue something either in the vein of ‘how can we afford to shed ‘crocodile’ tears over Gaza when there is so much violence wreaking havoc in Pakistan?’; or those arguing the unquestionable need for our united condemnation and yes, rage…against the slaughter of countless innocent lives in Gaza strip and the West Bank.

The fact is that this is a human rights issue and the loss of innocent lives, wherever and whenever it occurs, ought to be condemned and protested against. There is no ‘weighing’ of some lives against the other, when it comes to empathy.

Explore:Islamabad stand-off

Is it true that our concern would be better placed if it were directed at what was happening in our own country? Perhaps. That, however, doesn’t mean one cannot feel for the suffering of others around the world. Framing empathy in an either/or matrix is a fundamentally flawed line of thinking.

I have personally received at least six different versions of a boycott-Jewish-products list in the last month. I’ve always viewed such a line of resistance with suspicion because for many people, such boycott lists inevitably become an excuse for anti-Semitism rather than anti-Zionism.

It is imperative that we all learn to distinguish Jews in general from Zionist Jews. To claim, as many Pakistanis do, that all Jews are Zionists is akin to claiming that all Muslims are terrorists. Apart from being an unsubstantiated claim, it is just plain ludicrous. In the same vein, I feel that one must distinguish between Jewish companies/products and companies that specifically operate from within or benefit Israeli settlements.

I decided to speak to a friend of mine who has worked on conflict management in Palestine and has also supported micro chapters of pro-Palestinian groups within Israel about the issue. She told me something interesting:

“Consumer awareness is like a double-edged sword, if one starts pressing too hard on one end, the other one bites back. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be aware of what we are buying and how that affects the world. Only, becoming overzealous is also dangerous. One should start small, with your own daily, weekly and monthly purchases. Try and find out about what you’re buying and what (besides the product) the manufacturers are selling.”

I could see what she meant. Once one starts delving deeper into companies with dodgy histories, very few companies, if any, can truly, ethically stand upon close scrutiny. This isn’t to say that one shouldn’t make the effort.

Read on:Israel hits Gaza highrises as sides weigh truce deal

At the end of the day if ‘money makes the world go round’ then one should assume our individual-purchasing power is akin to casting a vote. Every time we buy something, we endorse a businessman, a company and a policy, as well as the product. And this means that we have the right to demand more from businesses in terms of ethics.

History has shown that economic boycotts are effective to a large degree. Simply put, companies tend to take consumers a lot more seriously when they are angry about something and stop buying, than governments are likely to do with disillusioned citizens demanding a change in policies. Less money means less business and such lowest common denominators are often an effective bottom line.

As Pakistanis, most of us, including myself, generally lack consciousness about what we buy. Given the state of affairs in Pakistan, we naturally have bigger concerns, but this doesn’t mean that consumer consciousness isn’t important for those of us who can afford it and know better.

After several discussions on the matter, another friend of mine suggested that I download the Buycott App on my phone (the app is available on android as well as the iPhone) and it has been an interesting experience.

The app allows one to list the human rights and business ethics causes they are interested in, as well as the ‘degree’ to which they support the cause.

On this premise, the app informs one of the ethical histories of different companies and brands on various issues. If information is power, than this is certainly an odd form of problematic purchasing power.

There are very, very few companies in the world with clean slates when it comes to ethics…because all companies essentially operate for profit.

That said, there is a human element at play here.

When one decides to purchase a product despite knowing that the company, say, refused to alter one of its more devious policies on an issue like child labour or illegal Israeli settlements; it tells us a lot about ourselves and our dependency on what we feel we cannot give up and why.

From last year:Call for ban on Israeli products

There are many huge brands on the boycott list that one would naturally struggle with giving up.

Nestle is up there along with Coca Cola and Intel. So, how does one start? Do we stop using computers? Personally, I feel it is important to negotiate with this point. The average computer user buys a machine once every five or six years, whereas, we may buy a bottle of coca cola several times a week. It’s not an absolute. It’s not like one has to boycott all 100 products or nothing.

Why can we not start with what we can immediately relinquish and work our way from there?

Boycotting four out of seven problematic products is not relativism, because we do still ensure that those four companies are not getting our money. And the next time we buy a computer maybe we can look for alternatives, and if there aren’t any…maybe enough consumers can push companies to come up with ethical alternatives or change their current policies.

If nothing else, one hopes it will push some of us to buying locally made products. No matter how little one engages with the moral mathematics of their own purchasing power, I have come to learn that it is important to do so in some degree or other.

We are not mindless drones; those of us who can know better what they are buying owe themselves to find out more. It shows that we care enough to learn about what we are giving our money to; who we give our money to; how often and why.

Before any Khanista showers me with provocative and obscene profanities, let me urgently clear out that I am not a PML-N supporter, voter or even Mian Sahab's admirer.

But today, when the Premier is going through a vulnerable period of his tenure (and arguably one of the most challenging times of his politics), many proclaimed and self-proclaimed political pundits are predicting the end of Nawaz's third stint as Prime Minister.

Please allow me to express some words in defense of the King of Raiwind.

1. Nawaz has already accepted the opposition's demands

They asked for the investigation of four seats. Though questionably late, Nawaz Sharif is giving a complete probe of entire elections under supervision from the Supreme Court. What more can the opposition ask for? They're getting a probe by four judges working under a deadline for 30 days, with extensive media coverage on the day-to-day developments on the issue; not to forget, backed with the guarantor of an institution which the opposition party chief is known to be fond of.

You demanded a cake. He is giving you an entire bakery.

Explore:Islamabad stand-off

2. Electoral Reforms — He is on it

Granted, the elections were certainly never transparent. However, the point of contention does not rest on the authenticity of the polls, but rather the process and framework to reform it.

While Mighty Khan believes in the abrupt dismissal of the government, and Tahirul Qadir in rolling back the entire system, the premier puts his weight behind reforming the elections through democratic procedures laid out in the Constitution of Pakistan.

To that end, an electoral reforms committee had been formed. Sure, there may have been a better candidate to head it than Ishaq Dar; perhaps a PTI representative should be chairing it. But it was still a representation of all parliamentary parties and it was jet-set-go until, unfortunately, Azadi and Inqilab overshadowed all.

What the opposition can’t see or deliberately doesn’t want to see is that in order to bring electoral reforms in the country — a genuine demand — with or without Nawaz in power, they would inevitably have to actualise their demands by going through the system. Rejecting it purely on the basis of not-as-long-as-Nawaz-is-in-power mantra is not only undemocratic but ludicrous.

Take the quiz:How well do you know Pakistan's military coups?

3. If Nawaz resigns — the state must brace itself for the consequences

The demand for his resignation is much more than stupid — it’s dangerous. Just think for a moment: What precedent would Nawaz set if he resigned?

Next time, just about anyone could arrange 5000 people; entertain them with free concerts; exploit them with baseless analogies and explanations of just/unjust, good/evil, and then storm parliament. And there you have it, the state has crumbled, the premier has no other option than to resign. You win, but at the cost of stability of Pakistan.

Every single month, there would be groups marching towards Islamabad in an attempt to besiege the capital through enforcing their nuisance value. Today it is Khan and Qadri, tomorrow it would be the far right sectarian pseudo-political parties demanding who knows what? Who on earth could govern in such precarious political circumstances?

It’s frightening, Indeed it is.

Also read:Political crisis must end through political means, Army says

Politics is an art of flexibility. Nawaz may have proven hard to budge, and there is no question that his government has been late to address the issue; indeed the Model Town FIR was a basic right and the rigging probe a legitimate demand, too.

But what he has on the table right now are good deals for both the aggrieved parties. It is instead the eccentric, maximalist political rhetoric coming from the Khan-Qadri duo which is inviting mockery on the state of Pakistan.

Yesterday`s clash resulted in three tragic deaths. Today, the protesters stormed the PTV. Denouncing the act is not enough. Had the opposition appeased themselves through cooperative negotiations, this havoc could have been easily avoided.

The Constitution sets a state order: anything contrary to it invites anarchy. Undoubtedly, the state of Pakistan has persistently struggled, but it's still not as bad as the sort of chaos which Iraq and Syria are imbued with, today.

Take a look:PTI, govt should return to talks: Sirajul Haq

However, if the mobs succeed today, then every Pakistani — including the current crop of inqilabis— will soon be forced to live the brutality which the above countries are suffering from.

Standing with Nawaz today does not necessarily make one a PML-N supporter; it could be borne of a nationalist democratic consciousness which stands with the state of Pakistan.

The system has been achieved after countless sacrifices of political workers all across the board. Before it gets even more late, can Mighty Khan and Molvi Sahab please accept the package and move on?

This isn’t an exercise in point-scoring, satisfying as that is under most circumstances. This is a lament, and it’s written not with smug satisfaction, but with a heavy heart.

It starts with a slogan, one beloved of protesters across the length and breadth of this land, and perhaps beyond. And that slogan is:

Girti hui deewar ko aik dhakka aur do.

Here, the wall in question is part of the edifice that we, for lack of a better term, call the system. There are some things we can all agree on, regardless of what side of the political divide we stand on.

One is that this system needs serious and sustained reform. Another is that it cannot and will not reform itself without pressure.

Where we differ is what form this pressure must take.

Follow live updates:Islamabad stand-off

For Imran Khan and his followers, it must be a wrecking ball that destroys the entire structure in order to save it. Then and only then can we build a new Pakistan over the crumbled brick and mortar.

But what if that dhakka, that push, that pressure, had been applied from within the structure itself?

What if it has been aimed at not destroying it entirely (how many times have we tried the tabula rasa approach?) but at shoring it up, at repairing the wall instead of smashing through it?

But that’s impossible, they say.

The entire edifice is rotten and needs to be demolished. We tried to reform it, they say. We made attempts and they were all stymied. And they’re right. They did try, in fits and starts and without any real strategy.

But they gave up far too soon, and gave up on all of us when they did.

Also read:Azadi is here! But what does that mean?

Consider that this system of patronage and nepotism, this system that is geared towards the needs of the few over the needs of the many, is one that has accrued over decades.

With apologies to my PTI friends (those that still remain), a year is simply not enough to throw in the towel. Not when you spend over a decade to gain this opportunity.

No one said it would be easy, and to believe that it would be is naivety of the highest order. And there is really no excuse for that, not for a party that went from being a political laughing stock to a major force through sheer will and effort, not for a man who, of all people, should have known that taking the easy way out is for cowards, that to build is far more rewarding than to destroy, even if it’s harder to do.

Consider also that, in comparison to the past, it is now far more difficult for the power elite to get away with the excesses that were once possible.

This doesn’t mean that the ‘status quo’ won’t try to get away with theft, fraud and murder. They can and will do so. But it does mean that their actions are now more closely watched, judged and called to account, than ever before. As a consequence, they have become a little more sophisticated in their ways and the need was, and is, for the counter pressure to also evolve.

Editorial:Blow to democracy

Imran should have been that counter-pressure.

Imagine, for a moment, if Imran had used that passion inside Parliament.

Imagine an Imran Khan showing our flabby polity what being in the opposition really meant. Imagine an Imran Khan who was the scourge of this government, dogging its steps and hounding it in speech after speech, calling attention to its every misdeed and holding up his own record, not of some long-past cricket victory, but of actual governance, in shaming contrast.

‘Who is Maryam Nawaz Sharif to disburse youth loans?’ He may have thundered.

‘Who will account for the lives lost in Karachi?’ he may have demanded.

Imagine if he had made these speeches in the National Assembly, the very Assembly that his voters gave him entry to.

By doing so, he would have kept the government constantly on its toes, would have forced them to moderate themselves, would have forced the other parties to step up for fear that he would eclipse them entirely. And they would have been unable to respond, weighed down by their own inertia and incompetence.

What a sight that would have been. What a shame that we never saw it happen.

What a tragedy that he took the easy way out.

Instead of being the civilian savior of Parliament, taking on his opponents on the floor of the National Assembly, he laid siege to it like some general come to conquer a foreign land, like some latter-day Mahmud of Ghazni come to smash idols and idolators alike.

He didn’t even do that right; instead, here is a general who burned his boats, who left no exit for either himself or his enemies. In short, a general who does not know even the basics of military strategy, let alone politics.

Imran has strengthened the very forces he sought to defeat.

Thanks to his misguided and mistimed lunge he has succeeded in uniting all against him and handed a dying dynasty a lease of life. Because in his world, the slightest dissent is blasphemy, criticism is proof of corruption. It is either black or it is white, because he is blind to the kaleidoscope of colours, both seen and unseen, that actually make up this world.

And here’s another tragedy; people went to Islamabad because they believe in him.

They camped out there despite all the odds because there is a deep and genuine and justified wellspring of anger and resentment at the constant injustices we have suffered. The crowds that gathered there did so because they needed an outlet.

Also read:Open letter to Imran Khan, from a PTI voter

We know we deserve better and many of us thought that this man would give it to us. We were wrong.

The timing of his moves leaves him open to valid criticism about his motives.

Is this about saving Pakistan or gaining power?

His rabid invective leaves no room for retreat. His apparent dalliance with questionable forces raises doubts about his intelligence and intentions alike.

Did he truly think that his ‘revolution’ would not be exploited in a land where hidden forces are always ready to pull strings?

Did he truly think he could dance with them and spin away with his soul intact?

Are naivety and foolhardiness now leadership traits?

Also read:When failure is victory

A party that could have been a force for change is now battered and tainted. Lines have been drawn, and lines have been crossed and the divide is deeper now than ever before and there is still no end in sight.

I have little doubt that the PTI will survive this, but the cost to it and to Pakistan itself, has been far too high.

But predicting the future isn’t what this little piece of writing is about.

This isn’t prophecy, this isn’t an obituary and nor is this a triumphal note. It is a lament.

There is nothing new or surprising in the news of a split among ranks of the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), as it had been in the process since November last year, when TTP’s head Hakimullah Mehsud was killed in a drone attack.

While many see this split as a major blow to the terrorists’ umbrella organisation, it is worrisome that some relatively more brutal factions of the group are reorganising themselves.

The chance that this split will affect the existing militant landscape in the region is small.

The news indicates, in fact, that certain terrorist groups are in a process of transformation and are absorbing influences of newly emerging terrorist organisations like the Islamic State (previously ISIS, now IS).

The new influences and inspirations are causing ideological purification within terrorist organisations.

Explore:What ISIS and the 'caliphate' mean for Pakistan

The newly established group Jamatul Ahrar, and its goals and objectives suggest that it is inspired by the achievements of the IS.

According to media reports, the group is the brainchild of Omar Khalid Khorasani — an ambitious Taliban commander and a member of TTP Shura who was not happy with peace talks between Taliban and the government.

Transformations and ideological purifications among terrorist groups usually entail a process of abrasion, which sometime goes deep, but should not be regarded as destruction.

Transformations do not make terrorist groups weaker.

Rather, they provide new ideological strengths, which help terrorists restructure their groups and revamp their operational strategies. When Ahrar claimed that the TTP now belonged to them, they meant to say that they had substituted the older organisational and operational formations with new ones.

Terrorist movements have passed through many transformations during the last one decade.

Much has been written about how Kashmir-based militant groups and sectarian groups in Pakistan came under al Qaeda’s ideological influence, which transformed major segments of these groups.

There were almost similar reasons behind the confrontation between the Taliban commanders Abdullah Mehsud and Baitullah Mehsud in 2004.

Abdullah wanted to speed up terrorist operations in Afghanistan, but Baitullah had come up with new ideological motives. While he did not object to Pakistani Taliban extending over help to their Afghan counterparts in Afghanistan, he stressed upon establishing the rule of Shariah in whatever tribal areas inside Pakistan were under Taliban control.

Under the influence of the Arabs and Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan (IMU), Baitullah also developed differences with Waziri militant commanders.

In the subsequent years, differences between Hakimullah Mehsud and Waliur Rehman Mehsud were primary of operational nature, but Waliur Rehman was not happy with the increasing sectarian tendencies in TTP.

When ideological transformations occurred across Pakistani militant groups within the broader concept of an Islamic state, it gradually ‘purified’ their objectives and evolved different trends among them.

Also read:US building coalition to fight IS

Now, Pakistan has militant groups with interests ranging widely from tribal and nationalist ambitions to sectarian, regional and even global ones. There is a lot of diversity in these groups.

Operation Zarb-e-Azb in North Waziristan appears to be one of the major reasons behind new developments within the TTP.

As the military operation uprooted militants from their safe heavens and dispersed them, many militant commanders and groups looked confused as to how to respond to this situation, particularly in absence of an agreed-upon leadership.

TTP already had cracks, and it appeared that two Mehsud factions were fighting with each other over the issue of leadership and resource distributions.

One of these groups was the Khorasani group.

Omar Khorasani was not happy with the infighting among militants. He contested Fazlullah’s leadership, had reservations on his ideological vision and believed that the latter was focused too narrowly on his native region (Swat), which damaged the operational effectiveness of the TTP across the country.

Khorasani aspires to make his group part of a broader Khorasan movement, which he believes will bring global change and help establish the Caliphate system in the world.

The emergence of the IS also influenced some TTP and other militant commanders to revamp their movement and to revisit their strategies, capacities and operational targets.

Take a look:Philippine Muslim rebels oppose Islamic State 'virus'

The Khorasani group has been under the influence of al Qaeda, which unlike IS, does not hold any territory. Al Qaeda is an underground organisation that operates through its affiliates, which can intensify conflicts in certain regions; but it is not capable of leading the movements on the ground. Even on an operational front, al Qaeda depends on terrorist attacks and cannot develop and lead a force like IS.

The IS is inspiring more groups other than just Pakistani militants. Boko Haram and other terrorists groups that emerged after 9/11 have also pledged allegiance to this new movement.

Though the chances that groups like Jamatul Ahrar will announce allegiance to IS are few, it is safe to say that they are getting inspired by this new entity.

With al Qaeda getting weaker in the region, these groups may imitate the operational tactics of IS in the near future.

20 days of revolution: From facebook to facepalm

A compilation of memes created and posted by NFP on Facebook and Twitter during the PTI and PAT dharnas.

TUQ arriving from Canada ...

The seating arrangements for the protesters in Islamabad included special chairs that could withstand the trials and tribulations of revolutionary fervor.

Some folk decided to take a long rest instead of joining PTI's Long March ...

The President felt a tad ignored ...

Some PTI supporters who were not in Islamabad decided to immediately take part in Imran Khan's civil disobedience movement ...

When Khan asked his MPAs to resign from the National Assembly, it did not mean PTI MNAs from KP. It was like saying chicken tumhara, leg piece hamara ...

In the early days of the protests, the Prime Minister seemed more concerned about the political health of his favorite holiday resort ...

After a while, the PML-N government decided to hold its own rallies ...

After days of protests and promises of a revolution, it just didn't come. Jinab Mufti Muneeb Saheb confirmed this ...

Elsewhere in Pakistan, some of us were still decrying the usual stuff ...

After noticing the groovy going-ons in PTI rallies, a JUI-F supporter pointed out the real danger to democracy ...

Breaking News: PML-N hooligans break Moby L's gamla. Moby demands judicial inquiry, military coup and UN debate.

As the intensity of the protests increased, the real source of local TV news channels was finally revealed ...

Though this guy escaped being arrested for rioting, he was picked up for 'indecent exposure' ...

Khan reemerges after his 'exercise break' ...

Government conspiracy exposed: Fake protesters beat a fake cop with fake dandas in a fake street of a fake Islamabad ...

The government's claim that cops were beaten up by protesters was a lie. Here's the real picture: Cops and protesters frolicking and having fun in Islamabad ...

Another glimpse of the glorious 'revolution' in Islamabad ...

Nawaz Sharif when asked what he thought was the solution to the crisis brewing in Islamabad ...

The media misquoted TUQ saying he's Lenin, Stalin & Marx. He actually said he's Larry, Curly & Moe ...

On the 19th day ...

After 20 days when all was said and done ...

In my opinion, one can disagree with the ‘dharnistas’ on dozens of accounts, without any mention of the term 'vulgarity'. In Maulana Fazlur Rehman's opinion, not so.

Yesterday, the JUI-F chief again invoked the 'fahashi' argument against men and women dancing at the Azadi march. And it wasn't even a talk show this time; he was standing inside the Parliament House.

Before we go on to discuss what fahashi (vulgarity) really constitutes, let's remind ourselves what happened the last time Mr Qadri descended upon Islamabad with his hordes of followers, aiming to destabilise the democratic system.

Opposition political parties issued a joint declaration from Lahore immediately, condemning his activities and vowing to defend the democratic process, thereby deflating the ‘revolutionary’ fervor.

Also read:Army will never utilise ‘musical show’ for power, says Fazl

A similar show of solidarity might have been a better way to deal with this mess than resorting to small-minded mockery and conspiracy-mongering. Some people went to the extent of filing a petition against the dharna's 'vulgarity', which the Islamabad High Court thankfully rejected.

Who is to decide what does or does not constitute ‘vulgarity’ anyway? It's a subjective notion, one lying ‘in the eyes of the beholder’.

The concept of 'vulgarity' is important only in bigoted, misogynist societies such as Pakistan.

People suffering from this mental state are shocked at the very sight of anything that's not conforming to traditional norms.

For them, just seeing a woman outside her home is shocking enough; and any dress or activity which falls outside the purview of their self-styled moral values, is thought to be invoking the devil itself.

Such incidents, unfortunately, are hardly rare in Pakistan. Women are regularly harassed and punished by men for so much as talking to a man outside the house. It is these baser tendencies which lead to bigger evils like honour-killings and acid crimes.

Explore:CM Punjab’s admirable moves against vulgarity

Unlike most civilised societies, the concept of personal space is non-existent in our society. One can find people decrying vulgarity for a-dime-a-dozen in our alleys (and parliaments, as it appears).

I'm sure a major reason for that is the absence of entertainment places and the reluctance to travel abroad. Parks, waterways, cinemas, clubs, theatres, quality book-shops or similar places for public assembly are few and far between in even our major cities.

Instead, what we have is a multitude of gaudy shopping malls, ever increasing in number. The absence of genuine entertainment has resulted in stagnation and negative thinking.

In that, it is nigh impossible to broaden one's horizons and explore the sheer diversity of values and ethics, which other people live with. Already no one from other countries is willing to come to our country and we no longer see any tourists on our roads.

The party-like environment in these dharnas proves that there is a desperate need for the government to increase entertainment opportunities for the masses. Based on anecdotal evidence, most of the dharnistas come to the late-night ‘festivals’ to enjoy and have some fun.

Read on:‘Azadi’ March brings entertainment

If the youth, tired and sick of political theatrics, wants to dance to some music, why does that twist the knickers of our ‘moral guardians’? If women, who form half the population of this country, want to be a part of the political process, why does that fire up the mullahs?

Whatever the female workers of PTI do in their spare time should be of any concern to anyone; not to mention it is outright disgusting for anyone to allege them of obscenity.

In my humble opinion, this country needs more of social change than a political one.

This change should be against narrow mindsets. Right now, no political party seems interested at all in that cause.

I hope that Imran Khan will not remain silent on this moral and mental decline and will start a practical movement to eradicate this hypocritical mindset because the first requirement to ‘change the system’ is to ‘change the national mindset'.

It’s a struggle Pakistan may not win.

More children are born to Afghan refugees each year in Pakistan than those who are repatriated to Afghanistan. Even with no new refugees arriving from Afghanistan, the number of Afghan refugees in Pakistan will likely increase, owing to the net positive fertility rate of the Afghan refugees.

Over the last three decades, Pakistan has housed millions of Afghan refugees. The refugees, however, are not the only displaced cohort in Pakistan.

Also read:Beyond dharnas: The forgotten numbers of Waziristan

Natural disasters, militancy, and counterinsurgency has rendered even many more millions of Pakistanis homeless. Between the refugees and the internally displaced persons (IDPs), Pakistan is home to one of the world’s largest displaced populations.

The Pakistan government has set December 2015 as the deadline for repatriating millions of Afghan refugees. The continued uncertainty in Afghanistan, and the rollback of Nato troops, is forcing thousands more Afghans to seek refuge in Pakistan.

Also read:Afghan children toil in Pakistan

With over a million IDPs from North Waziristan and surrounding areas, 1.6 million legal and millions more illegal Afghan refugees, the odds are high for an unstable Pakistan, resulting partially from the population, refugee, and IDPs pressure.

While the refugee and IDP situation presents a sorry state of affairs in Pakistan, the rest of the world isn't doing much better either.

UN agencies are reporting that the number of displaced people, including refugees, reached an all-time high in 2013, second only to the displacement caused by the Second World War.

Wars in Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere accounted for 50-plus million refugees and IDPs in 2013.

No fewer than 34 million of the 51 million were internally displaced by wars. The remaining 17 million are refugees whose misfortunes followed them to the lands they escaped to, which were equally impoverished, such as Syria, Pakistan, and Lebanon.

Realising that the host countries did not have the means to cater to the influx of refugees, the UN asked for $16.9 billion in 2013. To date, only 30 per cent of the funds have been raised, leaving the burden to feed, clothe, and shelter millions of refugees on the reluctant host countries.

Explore:Pakistan, world's largest host of refugees: UNHCR

Since June, the Pakistan armed forces have been engaged in an armed conflict with militants holed up in North Waziristan and surrounding areas. The army’s spokesperson informed that to date, 910 militants and 82 members of the security forces have died in the conflict. Equally disturbing is the news that almost a million people have fled the conflict zones and have found refuge in camps established for the IDPs.

Just like the challenges in feeding, clothing, and sheltering Afghan refugees, caring for IDPs is no small feat. Hundreds of millions of dollars are needed to ensure that IDPs have meaningful lives while they are waiting to return to their homes.

Blessing in disguise?

Whereas the IDPs from North Waziristan and surrounding areas have posed great challenges for the State, at the same time their mass exodus from North Waziristan has been a blessing in disguise.

Of the approximately million IDPs, public health officials have been able to vaccinate 425,870 people at the transit camps established for them. This included 250,000 children under the age of five who were denied vaccination by the Taliban and their sympathisers.

Also read:Absence of vaccines shuts down polio centres

Few in Pakistan appreciated the potential for a global public health disaster resulting from the spread of the polio virus from Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP).

The Guardian newspaper reported earlier that North Waziristan was responsible for 50 per cent of the global polio cases. The WHO discovered that 90 per cent of the polio cases in Pakistan were genetically tied to KP. This made polio not just a local threat, but it made KP the “biggest threat to the global effort to stamp out a disease that can easily reinfect areas that have been cleared.”

Some Afghan refugees have been living in Pakistan for over three decades. In some cases, not only their children, but even their grand children were born in Pakistan. As the law stands today, the length of refugees’ stay in Pakistan does not bestow permanent residency status.

Given the chaos, turmoil, and violence in Afghanistan, it is unlikely that the situation there will improve in the near future. Even after several months, the two leading candidates in the Afghanistan’s presidential elections have failed to agree on the elections’ outcome. This has serious repercussions for Pakistan.

As a matter of fact, the refugee count in Pakistan is likely to swell further. According to the UN’s refugee agency, in 2013, Pakistan was already home to the world’s largest refugee population. Add to this millions of undocumented Afghan refugees and the IDPs, and the challenges, just like the underlying demographics, multiply.

Pakistan desperately needs political and economic stability to deal with the astronomical challenges posed by the tsunami of refugees and IDPs. The long and short marches for freedom and revolution, which have paralysed the State and the society since mid-August, are prolonging chaos in Pakistan.

Imran Khan and Tahirul Qadri have often pointed to the example of protesters in front of 10 Downing Street to claim that demonstrating in front of the Prime Minister’s House is their democratic right.

Let us forget for a moment that no ‘danda bardar’ mob incited for days by their leaders to smash the government will ever get anywhere near 10 Downing Street and stipulate that indeed protesters need a space in the nation’s capital to air out their grievances.

Let’s stay close to home and look at Jantar Manter in central Delhi as one of those places where the very unruly and noisy Indian democracy comes to protest.

In the last three weeks, there were several protests at Janter Manter; featuring everyone from restaurateurs, pub owners and others from the Delhi nightlife and hospitality industries staging a candlelight vigil against the early closure time for their businesses to supporters of the religious leader, Gopal Das, who had brought over 10 cows and bulls demanding a ban on cow slaughter.

Explore:20 days of revolution: From facebook to facepalm

In July 2012, I had a chance to visit Jantar Manter on a day when Anna Hazare, the anti-corruption crusader was several days into his fast to push along the passage of anti-corruption legislation. Right next to hundreds of his supporters was another demonstration led by Communist Party of India. There was plenty of harsh rhetoric against corrupt bureaucracy and an entertaining political theater to be had as Anna Hazare sat in the midst of the stage surrounded by his supporters.

There is much in common between the supporters of Anna Hazare and Imran Khan’s PTI.

Anna Hazare's protest at Jantar Mantar in 2012. — Photo by author

Both groups come from urban, middle-class educated masses, who are disenchanted with electoral democracy because, they complain, corrupt political leaders continue to hoodwink the illiterate masses of South Asia to vote them into office.

Both Hazare and Khan are adored by their followers as incorruptible moral giants. Both of these leaders have touched the nerve of millions of South Asians who are fed up with the kleptocracy nurtured by the ill-gotten gains of fat cat politicians and petty corruption.

But Imran Khan is not only much better-looking than Anna Hazare. He is also a more successful politician. Anna would love to have the kind of success Imran Khan has enjoyed; that of the leader of the third largest vote-getting party in Pakistan within a decade and half of entering into politics.

In the face of the unfolding drama in Islamabad, the question is: why would a successful politician like Imran Khan recklessly undermine both the democratic process and his political future?

Also read:Imagine a different Imran

For his die-hard supporters, he is doing this to once-and-for-all get rid of corrupt politicians in Pakistan by reforming the electoral process. For his opponents, he is an arrogant political novice willing to sacrifice the very existence of the state to get to power through the back door.

Then there are many who were once charmed by the Captain’s promise to build institutions, firm up the rule of law and create a welfare state, and are now thoroughly confused by his dismissal of all institutions except an ‘umpire’ who will raise a finger and materialise PTI’s revolution at once.

Follow:Islamabad stand-off live updates

When it comes to the right to protest, the Anglophile Imran Khan invokes 10 Downing Street and the Canadian citizen Allama Qadri reassures Pakistanis that all civilised countries recognise their citizens’ right to protest.

The opponents of Imran Khan and Qadri’s ‘dharna’ accuse them of turning Pakistan into a ‘banana republic’. In the current hyper-partisan environment, it seems which version you'll buy depends entirely on what channel you are watching.

But this much is clear: the attack on PTV, the attempt to breach the gates of the Presidency, the storming of the Parliament, physical violence against the police are actions far from the streets of London and prairies of Canada and closer to the chaos of Libya and Iraq.

Take a look:Let sanity prevail, before its too late

Whether the ‘dharna’ is a scripted conspiracy against democratic consolidation in Pakistan or simply an over-reaching by a cricketer-turned-politician who has bet everything on forcing the resignation of Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif, the outcome is depressingly familiar to students of Pakistani politics.

So could we create a space like Jantar Manter, right in the middle of nation’s capital where all manner of political protests can happen?

Absolutely.

But before that can happen, we have to get to a place where politics becomes boringly predictable; where the only way to change a government is through a legitimate constitutional process; where the only way to get rid of a prime minister before his or her term is over is through a motion of no-confidence in the Parliament; where there is no 'umpire' whose finger can determine the fate of the country...

Where we never have to worry that some ‘hasas idara’ is pulling the strings of Astroturf social movements to destabilise a government even if it means destabilising the very foundation of the state; where no demagogue, surrounded by same old political faces, promises a brand-new Pakistan and gets all of the media spotlight...

Where real crises like the current military operation in Fata are not wiped out of public consciousness while a manufactured crisis that claims to save the state from politics gets all the oxygen; where 180 million people are not held hostage by a few thousand protesters in the nation’s capital.

Tahirul Qadri may soon leave for Canada, and Imran Khan’s political future is uncertain. More important than either of these is the fate of Pakistan’s nascent democratic institutions.

Imperfect though they may be, it is vital in the long run that they take root and become a firm barrier against regression into our sadly undemocratic past.

The internet was taken by storm when nude pictures of over a 100 celebrities were leaked and published on the internet. They are everywhere.

Twitter is abuzz with comments ranging from “don't take pictures if you don't want them to be public” to “how sharing or looking at the images is partaking in abuse”.

Somewhere in between are conversations about intimacy in the world of social media, leaks and hacking.

Initial reports suggested that hackers targeted the iCloud accounts of the high-profile celebrities, there have been speculations about bugs that may be involved in making the hacking easier.

What’s worth noting is that some of the leaked pictures had long been deleted, so how were they being accessed again?

That brings us the question, how long is our data allowed to live on the internet before it is buried deep into the cyberspace, possibly too hard to find?

Are cloud services doing enough to protect user data? Can we truly remove data from our devices in its entirety and without a trace?

Also read:Is online privacy dead in a post-Snowden world?

Privacy buffs will tell you, the only way to remove data from a hard drive, SD card, USB or a phone is to destroy it. There are programs like ‘eraser’ that allow one to delete data, but as technology allows for more intensive intrusion, there’s fear that your intimate moments, if caught on camera may continue to live on.

So then, if you do not want intimate visuals to ever be made public, you simply stop taking them?

Also read:Nude selfies are never safe from bad people

That approach, although advises caution, is deeply problematic, as it inherently justifies abuse and victim blaming.

And, there will always be an excuse for victim blaming.

If she/he did not want people to look at her private photos, why did she/have to take them?

If it's not about 'careless sharing of intimate pictures' it's about invoking nationalism and morality. We've had our fair share of exposés where private pictures of renowned women are published on websites, looking to bundle up some instant hits, serve as the moral police and the national guardian all at once.

It's a rotten yet instant business model promising to satisfy perversion masked as morality.

It’s also a heavy handed snub that tells us that expecting privacy in the world of internet is a long dead phenomenon.

Blaming the internet or the victim for violation of privacy is an ill-informed and condescending approach that justifies and perpetuates abuse.

It perpetuates abuse as it overlooks consent.

You are looking at visuals that were intended to be shared privately; the individual photographed had consented to taking these pictures and sharing them with another.

Also read:The desperate search for online privacy

More importantly, the fact that these pictures exists, in no way makes them okay for public sharing, the absence of consent makes the sharing and viewing of these pictures an abuse.

Justifying the act in itself or the leak by blaming the victim makes a textbook case for rape culture, whereby you ought to be careful if you did not intend to be abused or raped.

In a world where 24-hour CCTV cameras are our reality, it is willful delusion to blame individuals for not being “careful” enough.

Victim blaming has not, will not and has never been a solution.

Caution is necessary, learning about one's digital security even more so but this incidence says more about a collective greed for snooping into people’s private lives than anything else.

This is the same phenomena that makes revenge porn, sneaky paparazzi shoots and leaked conversations such a massive business model.

It sells, it generates hits and it also brings all the creeps out of the woods.

Since those sharing the pictures, insist it is naive to expect privacy that anything put up on the internet must always remain forever and public, it provides for the public opportunity to identify and publicly shame individuals who prey on one's privacy, partake and perpetuate abuse.

After all, if you didn’t want your fetishes made public, why did you prey on others?

Anyone who follows cricket in Pakistan would remember the disastrous tour of Australia in 2009-2010. Under the captaincy of Mohammed Yousuf, Pakistan lost all three Test matches, all five one-day internationals and the only T20 match of that tour.

Many reasons were cited behind that calamitous tour, including a ball tampering incident involving Shahid Afridi; but one which was not discussed openly and was only whispered for a long time afterward was that batsman Mohammad Yousuf – a former Christian who had converted to Islam in 2005 – was more interested in Tableegh (religious preaching) than in playing cricket.

M. Yousuf at Lord's in London, 2010. - AP Photo

Later on, a number of tales came up. One of these described Yousuf as having spent the better part of his time running after Australian cricketers to preach to them the virtues of embracing Islam and how it had improved the quality of his life and how it would ensure them a place in heaven.

His efforts obviously did not pay off, for none of the Aussie cricketers converted, as far as we know. But his tableeghi stints did cost Pakistan the series – it was the most shameful showing of Pakistani cricket team in recent times – and his position as the captain of the national team and his career as a cricketer ended soon after. I am not saying that the two were directly related, but Yousuf’s well-built career died after that.

Also read:Preaching games

The latest entrant into the preacher zone is Ahmed Shehzad.

During the last one day international on Pakistan's latest tour of Sri Lanka, Shehzad was recorded on camera telling Tillakaratne Dilshan, after he scored a 50 and won the match for his team, that “if you are a non-Muslim and you turn Muslim, no matter whatever you do in your life, straight to heaven.”

Apparently Dilshan must have said something along the lines of “Thanks, but no thanks,” to which he later added, “Then be ready for the fire.” Presumably hellfire.

For starters, that was rude, uncalled for and totally inappropriate. It was not like Dilshan and Shehzad were indulging in a heart to heart chat over drinks about existentialist angst and wondering if there is a heaven or hell.

They were walking back to the dressing room after putting in a day in the cricket ground. You cannot just ambush people in the middle of their business and frighten them with eternal hellfire.

Dilshan obviously was more mature and magnanimous. He neither responded to Shehzad after that, nor did he file a formal complaint against the cricketer.

The tragedy of it all is that neither Shehzad, nor his team manager, Moin Khan seem to be showing any remorse.

Khan, who has once been arrested for alleged spousal assault and battery, tried to downplay the enormity of this and said that it was just “general banter and nothing more and players do banter with each other from time and time.”

Shehzad was no better and believed to have said that it was a personal chat and there was nothing more to it.

However, in a surprising show of responsible behaviour, PCB has set up a three-member committee to probe the incident and had already summoned Shehzad to their headquarters in Lahore.

Explore:Pakistan’s crazy cricket controversies

The incident may not seem that attention worthy, but it was very uncouth and impolite.

Had that conversation, no matter how intrusive and insensitive it was, taken place in private without cameras and Shehzad not wearing Pakistani colors, it would have been a personal matter.

But he chose to do that on the cricket field, in front of cameras rolling while representing Team Pakistan. He should be disciplined for his religious fervour and his desire to be on a 'mission' while he is getting paid to do something else – that is, playing cricket to the best of his ability.

I do wonder what Shehzad was thinking, if he was thinking at all, when he approached Dilshan with his message.

Was he planning to secure a sports ministry in a TTP or ISIS-lead government in the future? If that ever comes to fruition, Shehzad must know that they would, in all likelihood, ban sports of all kinds.

Was he trying to secure a corner plot in Jannat by converting a non-Muslim brother and show him the righteous path?

Honestly, after this incident, the only person in need of enlightenment seems to be Shehzad, not Dilshan, who let the matter go quietly and with dignity.

Take a look:‘Team needs to keep a balance between religion and cricket’

To counter such incidents from happening in future, PCB must prepare a starter kit which has to list acceptable and objectionable conduct and it should detail that randomly telling people that their faith, or lack thereof, will make them burn in hell fires of eternity is never a good opener for polite conversation.

Secondly, they must limit access of influencers like Tariq Jameel and co. who constantly barrage or guilt young cricketers with additional responsibility of tableegh when they cannot even do what they are paid to do with a modicum of responsibility – play cricket.

Thirdly, they must set an example with Shehzad and send out a message that preaching should be left to the likes of Tariq Jameel, Saeed Anwar and, dare I say, Aamir Liaquat. Cricketers should concentrate on playing well for their country, especially when they are on tours as ambassadors of the country and behaviour such as that will not help them in winning people over.

It is about time Muslims in general, and cricketers in particular let go of the notion that we, as Muslims, are the chosen ones and it is our duty to bring others to the righteous path.

The game plan is public knowledge now.

The audacity of the coup makers, this time, is flat-out impressive. There is no longer a pretense of ‘reforms’ or ‘cleansing of the system’.

Instead, it is a straightforward attempt at ridding the ruling party of its founders. It is a shame that this occasion has been robbed of the opportunity for a genuine discussion on sweeping reforms in favour of something as impudent as leadership change.

We need reforms, badly. The way the system currently operates is not fit for the world around us and cosmetic changes will not cut it anymore.

Serious reform issues have been lost in this political theatre put up by the business and bureaucratic interests within the establishment; which makes sense from their point of view, as any serious reforms would bite them the most in the long run as opposed to any politician.

Also read:Islamabad protests: Govt tries to woo back ‘upset’ opposition in House

So what are the reforms that we should have been talking about and need to take up seriously?

1. Governance reforms — more power to the people

To start with, we need governance reforms, especially in the local body system, which has been in cold storage for over seven years now. One of the problems with the current system is how pathetically it fares in terms of access-to-power: only about a thousand people in a country of 190 million, have access to political power through provincial assemblies and the national parliament.

Most of these people have held on to these positions for years, and the barriers set up against entry into power are extremely high. This frustrates the newer lot, who wish to have access to power at some point, and the right set of resources to do so.

Plus, the power spread under the current system is very concentrated. A local body system would open up the political space to a much wider audience and drastically increase the number of stakeholders in the system. It would become much easier to protect a system when thousands of people are a part of it on several levels, instead of just the current one thousand.

The other side of this argument is that local body elections would create a new cluster of power sources that is much closer to the end user i.e. the public. Consider the government as a service delivery system — the closer it is to the end user, the better it can serve them; so district-level service providers would be much better than ones installed at a provincial level.

Unfortunately at this point, demand for meaningful reforms has been brushed aside in favour of the trivial rigging issue in specific constituencies, which will have no long-term impact on the way our system works.

2. Civil service reforms — more power to the right people

There is also an urgent need to launch expansive reforms for the structure and recruitment practices of the civil service, which happens to be one of the state's dirtiest secrets and has resisted nearly all reform attempts by multiple governments.

Dr Ishrat Hussain (now at IBA Karachi), led the National Commission for Government Reform (NCGR) to come up with reform recommendations during the Musharraf era. His recommendations aimed to make the system more transparent and remove the current special consideration for the DMG and other preferred groups in our civil services.

Read on:Bureaucracy needs reforms

The rationale behind these proposals can easily be explained through the example of the Pakistan Electronic Media Regulatory Authority (Pemra), where the board happens to have at least two members who originated from the police service.

Think about it: what are two policemen doing in Pemra? And how did they even get there? How is the system supposed to work when people who specialise in one thing end up taking deputations in departments they have no expertise in?

While Dr Ishrat’s reform recommendations are detailed and should have been implemented years ago, even the simplest recommendations — which nearly everyone agrees upon — are yet to be enacted; these include removing the concept of ‘deputation’ and the Civil Service Examination in favour of direct recruitment by various services.

That's how it is in most countries. Instead of taking a generic exam and then waiting to be allotted to a service based on your merit and preference, people take specific exams tailored differently for each individual government service, e.g. trade or foreign office.

Take a look:Plagiarism detected in CSS paper

This way, each service gets to pick their recruits from a pool of people who are genuinely interested in that area. With the practice of deputation out of the window, candidates hoping to get in through one service and then take a deputation to a more lucrative one are filtered off.

It is astounding that so far, we have been unable to push through even something as simple as this to the end of improving the bureaucracy. And then we wonder why they are unable to deliver!

3. More provinces — uniformly distributing power

My final point is: Pakistan needs more provinces. That's the discussion we should be having, and yet it keeps getting buried under irrelevant demands every single time.

We all know where the problem lies: over 60 per cent of Pakistan’s population lives in Punjab, and so, a party that can win over most of Punjab is free to form a government without winning anywhere else. And when that happens, other provinces are effectively told to go fend for themselves.

Punjab has always been the bone of contention, and the reason why the powers that be are trying to dislodge this government. It worries them to see PML-N with an iron clad majority of 312 MPAs out of the total 371 in the provincial assembly. On the national front too, 147 out of 272 contested seats are in Punjab.

So, as long as a party wins in Punjab, it runs the country. How is that fair?

How is this a federation if the winner of just one province gets to rule over everyone else as well?

In my opinion, we need at least four more provinces. We need a better spread of power so that one province does not rule over others.

Know more:Bill on new provinces referred to PAs

More provinces will also cut down the number of coup attempts we keep having. Agree or not, this latest attempt is practically based entirely on issues in Punjab. The whole country has been held hostage because a few powerful people in Punjab do not like the other powerful people in Punjab, who are also running the federal government.

A third argument for more provinces is — and it goes without saying, really — that smaller units in a federation improve governance. More provinces means a smaller distance between the end user and the power source.

The government’s job is to improve service delivery and improve access to power. Local body elections and more provinces address this. Civil service reform ensures that the system works properly and effectively, given that the people on the job want to be there and are specialised in what they are doing.

In the aftermath of all the nonsense we just had in Islamabad, the subjects detailed above are what we should be having discussions about.

But none of this stuff is sexy, none of it gets TV ratings and none of this will get Punjab from one group of really powerful people to the next group of really powerful people.

And, the height of absurdity is, that after ignoring all the core issues, we still have the audacity to ask why we do not see rapid progress in Pakistan.

The recent social media fervour over the 10-book challenge provided some slight relief from the “Ice Bucket Challenge”, but it highlighted a lacuna in the way literature is cherry-picked, taught and consumed in a certain section of Pakistani society.

The challenge itself was deceptively straightforward: nominate friends to compile a list of ten books that had sustained a long-term effect on them. The nominee in turn was expected to nominate another ten friends from their list and so it continued – an excellent idea indeed, and I personally extracted tremendous enjoyment out of scanning the lists of many people.

Alarm bells, however, started to ring when in many cases I struggled to find a single non-white, non-British writer on the 10-book list. The usual suspects, ranging widely over the centuries, were pervasive: Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, the Bronte sisters, William Shakespeare, Enid Blyton and Thomas Hardy topped the charts as it were.

Explore:Pakistani fiction

Now consider this in light of the recent move on the part of the British conservative government to promote more “Britishess” in its English curriculum in the UK. To make the syllabus more nationally-centred, former education secretary Michael Gove axed American classics like To Kill a Mocking Bird and Of Mice and Men from the national curriculum. So the message was: buy British, even when it came to reading.

The resulting predicament from all this is that students in both Pakistan and England spend the vast majority of their English lessons consuming canonical and contemporary British fiction. In Pakistan, they do so out of a long standing regard for a super-imposed curriculum and in England, as Christopher Bigsby tartly puts it, “for fear that Romanian novels might move in next door”.

Whereas it would be wholly ludicrous to deny the literary merits of much of this fiction, it does wrongly facilitate the materialisation of a culture of “elite” books. These books are ones without which an education in English Literature is still considered vacuous and ill-conceived. While postcolonialists worldwide have long bemoaned the flawed conflation of “English Literature” and “Literature in English”; we remain in grave danger of endorsing the notion that excluding the plentiful and excellent pieces of Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, African, Middle Eastern, Chinese and Canadian fiction from an entire lifetime’s worth of education is, somehow, acceptable.

Also read:2013: yet another prolific year for Urdu literature

I managed to acquire an undergraduate degree in English from Pakistan, without so much as grazing past a postcolonial novel or poem; British novelist E.M Forster’s A Passage to India is the only brief and altogether ironic attempt that I can recall, at exploring postcolonialism in literature.

Whilst this meant that my knowledge of critical theory from Samuel Johnson to T.S Eliot was unquestionably sound, I was never able to read or think beyond the realm of the “Britishness” that defines the way in which English Literature is usually understood by a section of the Pakistani public.

I accepted the somewhat odd fact that all the literary characters I experienced had English names, traipsed the English countryside and ate food that I could only imagine the appearance of. If only you knew how many hours I have devoted in contemplating the taste and appearance of “blancmange” and “black pudding”!

Read on:Imagining Pakistan in fiction

The British-designed curricula, harking back in many instances to colonial rule, is now hardly an adequate framework to achieve the desired aims of Literature – to foster understanding, create empathy, promote the tenets of multiculturalism and globalisation while enhancing personal, social and cultural awareness.

In Europe and America, there is now a small yet growing academic interest in literature from Pakistan, both Anglophone and Urdu. My own research explored the transnational features of four contemporary Pakistani writers of fiction in the English language, particularly after 9/11.

I strongly believe that this trend needs to set in Pakistani academic circles too, and that a wholehearted incorporation of postcolonial novels into curricula would be a good starting point. The translation into Urdu of a steadily increasing Anglophone Pakistani fictional corpus would also be an integral part of this process. Anglophone Pakistani fiction, including that of Kamila Shamsie, Mohsin Hamid, Danial Mueenuddin, Uzma Aslam Khan and Bina Shah, is edgy – it has, so to speak, a bite to it!

While it is important to explore the traditional literary canon of fiction, literature has a more significant and urgent role too. I would be inclined to argue that the study of literature should be as much a matter of business as pleasure.

I aspire to a 10-book challenge that reflects such an engaging diversity – one that categorically refuses to accept the superiority of one literature over another. Give me Shakespeare. Give me Ghalib too. Give me Seth. Give me Adichi.

And let me have them all at once, together.

Whatever the reality maybe, making up and breaking up is not something I associate with the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan.

With their grim beards and demeanour, they seem more like the staying together sort, not interested in indulging in petty jealousies. Fights about who said what and when, and who is right or wrong are the culprits of ending things, divorce and such.

It was this perception that was challenged recently when one part of the Taliban split off from the other portion and formed a new group. The “original” Taliban, as they can be called now, used to be led by the infamous Maulana Fazlullah, the former Swat ski lift operator turned guerrilla warrior.

The new group, which calls itself Jamatul Ahrar is led by a man called Omar Khalid Khorasani. He is the one who appears sporting a black turban and beard in various Taliban videos. It is said that, in their unerring commitment to uniformity, all the Taliban love to look like all the other Taliban.

We're lucky to not have to rely on wardrobe or facial hair choices, to tell the new group apart from the old group.

In one of its initial releases, the new Jamatul Ahrar called “IS” the group rapidly evoking havoc in the Middle East their “mujahideen brothers”. The particular transnational bent of this new shoot that has sprung from the old tree of Taliban extremism, was seen yet again in a statement that came from Al Ahrar just a few days ago.

On September 4, 2014 Ehsanullah Ehsan, the group’s spokesperson welcomed the creation of a new Al Qaeda affiliated jihadi group“for the Indian subcontinent”. The announcement of the creation of that group had been made by the Al Qaeda leader Ayman Al Zawahiri, who promised in his video message, that the new “Al Qaeda in the subcontinent operation” would take the fight to Myanmar, Bangladesh and India”.

Al Ahrar then, is the portion of the Taliban interested in the sort of transnational alliances that would allow it to transcend the Pakistan-Afghan region. While not officially tied up with the 'Islamic State', the emergence of this new branch of the group suggests differences in where the top leadership of the Taliban organisation wants to invest its resources.

Also read:Jamatul Ahrar welcomes new Al Qaeda branch

In yet another episode of emerging transnational connections (whose details and determinacy remain admittedly murky), an unnamed group of activists led by an Afghan national was reported to be distributing IS pamphlets translated into Darri and Pashto in parts of Khyber-Pakhtunkhwa. The pamphlet declared that the Caliphate planned expanding its boundaries from Iraq and Sham, to Khorasan which is are currently known to all the rest of us as Afghanistan and Pakistan.

The bits and pieces and make ups and break ups may not all come together very neatly now, and with the analysts and commentators of Pakistan focused on the divisions and multiplications going on in Islamabad, the extent of the IS threat in Pakistan cannot be exactly known.

Given, however, that the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan continue to control swathes of Pakistani territory, including enclaves of urban areas like Karachi and that a chunk of the group has recently broken and seems immediately interested in poking its nose toward transnational rather than regional extremism; there is cause to worry.

Furthermore, in what has been seen about the tactics of IS, their modus operandi is astoundingly similar to that of the early Taliban.

Know more:Ideological purification: Understanding the TTP split

Banning women from public spaces, executions of known thieves and traitors in town squares, moral or hisba police that roam streets and markets; all strategies that the Taliban have used in their captures of towns like Swat, are precisely what the IS has instated in the Syrian city of Raqqa.

The IS, of course, has gone farther than just that, it controls a larger chunk of territory, has issued passports and declared Al-Baghdadi as Caliph.

Joining hands may permit and promote the existence of a transnational realm, one that has been imagined by militants of all ilks for quite a while.

The possibility of this will of course be determined by the future; its realisation on the ability of the Pakistani state and polity to abandon old gripes; the divisions of ethnicities and sects; and the schism between civilian and military, to look at the world through the lens of new threats that promise of a more complete and unprecedented annihilation.

A portion of the ashes of the 99 year-old Khushwant Singh (who crossed the newly carved border in 1947), was brought by train from a crematorium in Delhi to Pakistan early this year, by one of his many Pakistani friends — scholar and art historian Faqir Aijazuddin.

It was a return trip for the most renowned columnist of the subcontinent to his birth place, the village Hadali in district Khushab. His ashes were cemented on a wall of his school.

If Hadali is known only for the great son of its soil, so is Kasauli, at least for us Pakistanis. It was at this hill station in Himachal Pradesh, that Khushwant wrote most of his amusing, provocative and, most often, informative columns.

But to think of Khushwant Singh only as a widely read columnist is like remembering his favourite poet, Mirza Ghalib, only for his Urdu ghazals, ignoring in the process his polished verse in Persian and the delectable flavour of the letters that he wrote to his friends and pupils.

Also read:Khushwant Singh dies at 99

Khushwant (as everyone called him) was an outstanding novelist (his Train to Pakistan ranks among the finest English novels written in South Asia); a scholar who authored the highly acclaimed History of Sikhs in two volumes; and a celebrity journalist who turned the sinking Illustrated Weekly of India into a mass circulated magazine.

I would add two more points. He was a humanist to the core. To him, religious and political backgrounds of people he interacted with or even met once or twice didn’t matter at all. Also, I have yet to find a more gifted translator of Urdu poetry. He was fully alive to the sensibilities of both languages, Urdu and English. If only someone could go through his columns, which were often laced with translations of Urdu verses, and present them in a single volume.

If you wish to know more about this larger-than-life figure and his multifaceted genius, I would recommend getting a copy of his son Rahul Singh’s Khushwant Singh: The Legend Lives On. It’s a compilation of obituaries written by friends, relatives and even acquaintances.

It also features the epitaph that Khushwant wrote for himself:

Here lies one who spared neither man nor God.
Waste not your tears on him, he was a sod.
Writing nasty things he regarded as great fun.
Thank the Lord he is dead, this son of a gun.

The introduction by Rahul Singh, an accomplished writer himself, is informative and readable alike; mentioning for instance, how he did favours to people, at least two of them turned out to be ungrateful.

Rahul recalls a number of interesting events, one of which was related to his father’s birth date. Sobha Singh, Khushwant’s father entered February 2 as the date of his birth but his mother thought that it was August 15 when she gave birth to her son. That was well before the date became the Independence Day of India.

Take a look:Review: India’s Muslim Spring: Why is Nobody Talking about It?

A photo from the book showing Khushwant with his only grandchild Naina, daughter of Mala.

Rahul reveals that Zeenat, a lawyer and the wife of his friend Soli Sorabjee, had convinced his father to leave a will saying his last rites were to be performed according to the Bahai faith, which the lady followed.

But when the time came, Rahul and his sister Mala found out that the conditions laid by the priests were too complicated and time-consuming.

So they decided to confine his mortal remains to an electric cremation.

Their father was opposed to the conventional rites where logs of wood are burnt to cremate the body. He had always ‘felt that it was a criminal waste of natural resources and contributed to deforestation’.

Faqir Syed Aijazuddin’s obit Train to Pakistan (2014) also recalls some interesting episodes.

Throughout his life, says Aijazuddin, Khushwant talked about Hadoli, with much affection and a fortnight before his death he told his younger friend:

“You know that I am a Pakistani by birth and at heart.”

Rahul has included as many as eight obits written by Pakistanis. I felt ten feet tall when I discovered that a piece which I wrote for Dawn.com at an hour’s notice also found place in the volume.

The prolific Shobhaa De — who gave Rahul the idea of collecting and editing the obits — has not one, not two, but four in the slim volume. They were written for different Indian publications.

Sadia Dehlvi, a print and electronic media person, narrated how difficult it was to make Khushwant change clothes for a TV show Not a Nice Man to Know, which was anchored by him and no less difficult to convince him to accept payment for his participation.

Writing about the crowd of well-known people who had gathered at his flat when he passed away, Sadia, to whom he had dedicated one of his many books, writes:

“He would have loved that scene…He liked attention. He liked controversy. He used to advise me ‘When you write, inform, provoke, abuse’…He thrived. He enjoyed the abuse more than the adulation of his fans.”

Once Vinod Mehta, one of his pupils, jokingly suggested that Khushwant’s columns should carry a statutory warning — ‘Can be dangerous’.

Sadia was one of the many obituarists who said that he was far from the image that he created of himself – ‘a dirty old man, a drunk and a lecherous womaniser’. Shobhaa De labelled him a henpecked husband. True or not, he certainly was a loving husband, who grieved at the sight of his beloved wife Kaval losing her battle against Alzheimer’s disease.

Khushwant and his bride Kaval, photographed shortly after their marriage. The clipping is from the November 6, 1939 issue of The Statesman.

Read on:Shobhaa De can’t be wrong

Among Khushwant’s many assistants cum disciples, if I may use the word, was journalist Bachi Karkaria, who summed up her mentor’s attitude to his work by quoting his advice: “You must take your work seriously and your own self lightly.’

Raju Bharatan, one of his senior Assistant Editors at the Illustrated Weekly of India, recalling the nine years that he spent under Khushwant’s wing, said: “Maybe he had his failings. Yet he never knew failure. He worshipped success and swore by it.”

Khushwant was against extremism of all kinds. He wrote against Bhindranwale for engineering Sikh militancy in the Punjab, and had to be provided security by the Indian government against Sikh hardliners. But when Indira Gandhi authorised the attack on the Golden Temple in Amritsar — the Vatican of Sikhs — according to Kuldip Nayar, he returned the Padma Bhushan award. Khushwant may have been an agnostic but he respected all creeds.

He condemned the killing of Sikhs in Delhi as vehemently as he denounced the anti-Muslim riots that erupted after the demolition of Babri Masjid and more recently, in Gujarat. He showed no mercy to fundamentalists of any religion.

Of all the 48 obituaries in Khushwant Singh: The Legend Lives On, it is the one published by New York Times which carries howlers. It mentions that Khushwant ‘was born in Hadali, in Thar Desert of what is now Baluchistan Province of Pakistan’. There are three errors here: Hadali is in Punjab, Thar Desert is not in Balochistan and finally the province’s name has been misspelt. What is surprising is that the byline Somini Sengupta sounds subcontinental, and yet such mistakes!

A month or so ago, this reviewer had written in a letter to Dawn that neither of the two Indians, Morarji Desai and Dilip Kumar, who were given this country’s highest civilian award, Nishan-e-Pakistan, deserved it more than Khushwant Singh did. He was indeed a bridge between the two countries — ‘the last Pakistani on the Indian soil’ as one of his detractors mentioned.

(Khushwant Singh: The Legend Lives On can be ordered on line at Liberty Books in Pakistan and Penguin India, New Delhi).

“The first time I sold my body was when I was eight years old,” Naeem says matter-of factly.

Naeem is now 13, a runaway kid and a veteran of the streets of Peshawar, one of Pakistan’s most dangerous cities. He has been a child prostitute since he was eight and a drug addict since he was nine.

The first time he sold his body was when his junkie elder brother kicked him out of the house and told him not to return without earning some money.

My brother said by any means necessary,

“I hadn’t been home in three days, so then I did it with a man in the park,” Naeem adds.

We stop filming and thank Naeem for his time. He is the last interview we have for this day of our Pakistan’s Hidden Shame documentary shoot, so my crew packs up.

I get into my car and almost immediately feel overwhelmed and sick.

It’s as if the dissociative stance I maintain while filming crumbles at once, and my mind begins to emotionally process the chorus of sound bytes which I witnessed throughout the last few weeks of filming.

Explore:Pakistan’s Hidden Shame: Documentary reveals horrors of pedophilia in K-P

Aside from Naeem, I have filmed with other street boys who have been victims of sexual abuse, some as young as seven. I have also met with abusers, from a drug dealer who barters sex from young boys in exchange for drugs, to a bus conductor who admits to having raped 11 boys.

I recall speaking to the bus conductor, Ejaz, a man in his early '20s. He explained to me that you can’t roam around freely with a woman.

People stare, and you have to exercise prudence. But with a boy, you can roam around freely and no one suspects anything.

Ejaz is referencing the fierce patriarchal mindset that is pervasive in Peshawar, one in which women are viewed as receptacles of family honour to be safeguarded at home.

“A woman is a thing you keep at home, you can’t take her out – people will question your honor.”

Ejaz’s assertions are predictably misogynistic, in which women are forced to a limited life inside the home since the threat of interacting with men from outside the family may compromise family honour.

The resultant segregation of the sexes makes most women unapproachable till marriage, for men like Ejaz.

This segregated environment creates a profound sexual frustration, as Ejaz himself admits, which he seeks to relieve by sexually abusing boys.

Mohammad Naqvi with cameraman Haider Ali during an interview. —Photo by author

A few days later, Ejaz who initially spoke candidly, threatens to kill my crew and me, demanding we surrender the footage. We escape Peshawar in the middle of the night, making our way to Karachi.

Initially, I feel relief upon reaching my home city, away from the nightmarish stories I heard back in Peshawar.

But after working on this film, a statistical reality sets in.

To specify that the abuse of street children is limited to Peshawar and its conservative pockets would be inaccurate. In fact, local researchers estimate that nine out of 10 street children from all over Pakistan have suffered some form of sexual abuse, including in my home city of Karachi.

Also read:Children sexually abused on Pakistan's streets

Growing up in Pakistan, this was not the first time I had heard of horrific stories of sexual abuse. My previous film, Shame, profiled gang-rape survivor and women’s rights icon Mukhtaran Mai. I spent four years documenting her journey.

When Jamie Doran from Clover Films, the producer of my current documentary film, reached out to me, I was apprehensive about taking on another project that dealt with sexual violence, mostly because of the emotional toll it can take on you as a filmmaker.

However, after seeing the response to the Dancing Boys of Afghanistan, Jamie’s previous film, which inspired the government to take action against the sexual slavery of boys in neighbouring Afghanistan, I felt it a privilege to work towards empowering the children in my country.

Pakistans Hidden Shame - Documentary Trailer:

Now that we have completed this film, I can say unequivocally that this is by far the most emotionally trying film I have made.

Also read:My stolen childhood

Apart from filming in Peshawar, a usual target for militant attacks, I witnessed a profound poverty. This poverty manifested itself into an alternative moral paradigm, one that had more to do with survival than compassion.

I witnessed parents being indifferent to their sons being abused, boys preferring to live on the street and sell themselves rather than live at home, and abused boys who carry on the cycle by abusing younger boys.

“People scare me,” says Bilal, a seven year-old boy, whom we interviewed.

Bilal's words stay with me.

Writers are required to adhere to some semblance of neutrality and present an unbiased picture to our readers, all without enforcing our opinions.

Sometimes though, painting a neutral picture is the most unfair thing we can do. Sometimes, neutrality borders on denial. I start with this grim note because I want to lead in to a simple question: Is Bulbulay bad for comedy?

With high TRP (target rating point) ratings, quite a few awards, an international audience and a 300-episode library, it is definitely a 'successful' show.

For those of you unfamiliar with the property, Bulbulay is a sitcom that follows the formula introduced by Family Front back in the 90’s; the exploits of a less than intelligent family trying to survive their ignorance in an otherwise intelligent world.

It is such a runaway success that it has become the formula behind numerous major sitcoms on the air today. The plot essentially boils down to how the characters' attempts at simple tasks are thwarted by their sparing use of common sense.

Nabeel and Mehmood Sahab dressed as women for one of the episodes.

Also read:What 'Pyaray Afzal' did right

I find it an interesting, satirical look into the delusion that supplements stupidity. On offer are some hilarious one-liners and oft zany situations with entertaining slapstick moments every now and again.

That said, Bulbulay and it’s clones have a shelf life.

The audience gets an occasional quick laugh from the show, but it leaves no lasting memories, no personal journeys, no introspection. Its jokes and catchphrases will not make anyone’s list in the future, once the novelty wears off.

Bulbulay is this successful for one simple reason: it has no competition.

All Bulbulay needed to do was not be too terrible, and judging from ratings, the audience seems to have ruled that it's not.

Family Front had a leg up on Bulbulay because it introduced this idea in recent memory. The idea was funny. Was. At first.

Now, they have been repeating the same formula to the point that you can telegraph a joke as it comes. If you are a fan of Family Front, you've probably figured out entire episodes of Bulbulay as soon as they start.

Granted, there are no rules in comedy and “to each their own” is a moderately reasonable school of thought. However, millions of people tuning in to the likes of Hasb-e-Haal and its clones can’t all have that distinct a palette, so there must certainly be a common denominator through which we identify comedy. These talk shows are witty, layered and hit us where we live — we can all relate to that.

Comedy is not limited to the volume of punchlines delivered, a large part is played by how well it is timed. The industry has garnered a fear of experimentation. With the success of Bulbulay, a hoard of clones popped up on other channels, all utilising the same formula of humour through hyper literal interpretation, over-acting and outlandish situations nobody would ever relate to.

The creators seem to distrust the audience’s perceptiveness to the jokes, so they water the content down, cue a laugh track, and play that Bulbulay song; so you know exactly when to laugh and how much.

If we take a trip back to the days of Fifty-Fifty, we can see how it worked on so many levels. There was satire, there was parody, there was absurdism and slapstick all fit nicely into a single sketch. The entire show was one gigantic social commentary.

Explore:TV entertainment — Why doth thou sink so low?

Similarly, the hysterically funny VJ, operating on a micro-budget, managed to generate laughs which were much more memorable. That proves that our audience is capable of processing smart, layered jokes.

So, perhaps it is time to start letting different comedies shine through?

Instead of copying the formula, creators should tell themselves that the audience demands humour programming. To serve that end, Bulbulay should be part of our history as the show that launched the golden era of comedy programming, not the era of Bulbulay clones (which is much more likely at this point).

With the ongoing dharnas in Islamabad, the Zarb-e-Azb operation and now the super floods, there is no greater time to unite for Pakistan.

The waters of the Ravi, Chenab, Sutlej and Indus rivers will bring destruction regardless of political loyalties to any from PTI, PML-N or PPP. These rivers are blind in their fury and demand our immediate attention.

We must leave the ‘hisab kitab’ for another day and find ways to reach out to our countrymen.

This year’s floods crisis is swiftly becoming a national emergency, even as we're still struggling to recover from the 2010 super floods.

Know more:205 dead as rains hammer Punjab, Azad Kashmir, Gilgit Baltistan

So far the floods in Kashmir and Punjab have claimed more than 200 lives, displacing tens of thousands of people. Six hundred villages in the Gujranwala and Sialkot regions were hit on Sunday, which is a loss greater than what’s caused by most calamities that shock the world today.

In 2010, I was in Thatta when almost a million displaced people moved up to the historic Makli Hills. I will never forget the look on the blank faces of the women and children living among Makli’s historic graves.

I shudder to think of our people in Kashmir and Punjab; how they must be lying awake at night, while a colossal body of water rages through their homes, shattering sturdy walls as much as fragile hopes and dreams.

In 2010, the country stood united and acted as one along with our army, navy and air force. Millions were moved out of harm’s way in a matter of days, while millions other stood like an impenetrable wall to shelter and support total strangers in need.

Also read:As floods crisis spreads, Modi offers assistance to Pakistan

Today, however, I fear that even though the floods may be (and hopefully) smaller than 2010, we might be standing further away from each other.

Each one of us is holding a different flag.

As I write these lines, watching our people wading through waist-deep water full of debris, dead animals and diseases is heartbreaking. I cannot begin to imagine how it must feel to leave your lives behind in a moment’s notice.

If there is a power outage even for a day, we feel the hands of discomfort caressing our very soul. Yet for our flood affected brothers and sister, misery must be their only companion – a lifestyle.

There is much to be done to help, we have done it before and our muscle memory will help us do it again.

But first, we must unite.

We must set aside all the anger we have against the ‘other’ camp and come together. It is surely easier said than done in this day of deep partisanship, but there is no other way.

Pakistan, in recent days, has been battered by constant bad news. The Taliban; the economy; the political crisis and now super floods. Still, let’s not forget it is also the land of Malala’s determination, young Aitzaz Hasan’s sacrifice and Abdul Sattar Edhi’s long and unending struggle.

Today, when even our IDPs – who have sacrificed the most for our wellbeing – are ignored, we must not forget our duty to our people across the nation.

Explore:Beyond dharnas: The forgotten numbers of Waziristan

Let’s forget for a moment our provincial, political and ethnic differences. You can feel the pain of Kashmir as far away as Sindh. You can be a Punjabi and imagine what a Pashtun IDP is going through.

We’re all humans, and we suffer the same way. Let’s do what the human nature does best:

Emphatise.

After the danger of the flood is over and our people have been saved, we can continue with our principled political disagreements; but let’s remind ourselves that we only disagree, in the first place, to help improve human conditions across Pakistan in the best way we can.

The dichotomy between perception and reality appears more pronounced when one starts assessing Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his performance in the first 100 days of his government.

Is Modi really what he appears to be, or is he different?

The man who talks of inclusive society and a riot-free India — does he mean it or is it just an attempt to deviate from his past?

Is the PM really serious about South Asian solidarity or he is merely indulging in grandstanding?

With more than a 100 days in office, the people of India are still struggling to decipher whether Modi is a perception or a reality ... or both.

Also read:As floods crisis spreads, Modi offers assistance to Pakistan

But after these last three months, one thing is clear: the present regime in Delhi is a government of Modi, by Modi and for Modi. No other voice is audible or important. The whole cabinet has become a rubber stamp of the Prime Minister Office (PMO). Modi has become a larger than life image.

Unlike the previous regime, the present dispensation is showing more agility and a sense of purpose.

The government understands that it carries the huge burden of a mandate it must deliver on. Modi knows that his predecessor Dr Manmohan Singh paid the price of being silent most of the time. Therefore, the new PM talks a lot and wants to prove that he is in command of the government.

The main focus of Modi’s election campaign has been the economic development of the country. In over three months, the government has taken some of the decisions to open up the economy, but it is not a radical departure from the previous Congress government. The kind of structural change that his corporate backers and pro-market supporters were looking for has not been introduced yet.

If one goes by the rise in Sensex it seems that the negative sentiment has given way to positive change. But at the ground level, the common people are complaining just the same as before — they are still bothered about rising inflation.

The first budget that the BJP government presented in June was just a rehash of the Congress' financial statement, shorn of any major announcement. It was a big let down for the people who were hoping to see a genuinely new economic thought.

Take a look:India must build up military might: Modi

Modi’s government has made a lot of noise on the foreign policy front in the last 100 days as well. It started first when all the leaders of South Asian countries were invited for his swearing-in ceremony. His visit to Bhutan and Nepal attracted great attention. Many experts term such initiatives as an attempt to build south asian solidarity and a visionary step.

But when it came to dealing with Pakistan, the limits of Modi’s vision were exposed.

Perception and reality came in direct conflict. After his initial grandstanding during the swearing-in ceremony, the world has started to look at him as a statesman, willing to engage a hostile neighbour, stabilise South Asia and open economic avenues for people who have been denied peace and prosperity for decades.

But the rhetoric could not match with reality. He cancelled important talks between foreign secretaries of the two neighbours because the Pakistani envoy in India met separatist leaders from Kashmir despite opposition from the Indian government.

Those who follow South Asian politics know that Modi’s excuse to call off the talks was just an attempt to pander to his constituency of Hindu hardliners. The BJP’s main aim right now is to win Hindu votes in the upcoming assembly elections in Jammu and Kashmir, where the party hopes to form government by polarising people on religious lines.

Read on:Narendra Modi accuses Pakistan of fighting 'proxy war' in Kashmir

People tend to compare Modi with the former PM Atal Behari Vajpayee, who took some bold initiatives to bring New Delhi and Islamabad closer. But Modi, unlike Vajpayee, is a hardcore Hindu nationalist who considers it important for his following to maintain that image.

It will not be easy for Modi to break free from his image as a hardliner and transform into an enlightened ruler. It will not be easy for him to make a bold move in relations with Pakistan.

Indian PM’s hardline image gets further reinforced when one looks at the emerging realities from some of the crucial states in India which are communally sensitive. English daily Indian Express recently came out with reports which stated that ever since the BJP’s search for power began the state of Uttar Pradesh has witnessed more than 1000 riots.

After the formation of the government by the Hindu right in Delhi, the situation has further deteriorated. Modi, despite all his declarations on Independence Day about a riot-free India, has failed to comment on the worsening situation. He has not tried to control the fanatics from BJP, who have been disturbing communal amity between the Hindus and Muslims in the hinterland of UP.

What's disturbing, however, is the gradual radicalisation and polarisation of the society. Modi talks of communal harmony and a moratorium on religious riots, but the actualities are far from it.

Know more:Hindu hardliners unrepentant a year after riots in Muzaffarnagar

The BJP has coined a new term, "love jihad" to divide communities. The party is allegedly spreading rumour that Muslims are enticing Hindu girls in to romantic relations and converting them. Such blatant misinformation and malicious campaigning has the potential to create a deep emotional wedge between communities.

He has chosen men like Amit Shah and Aditya Nath — two rabid anti-Muslim faces of the Hindu right wing — as helmsmen of the BJP. The prime minister’s complete silence on the divisive agendas being pursued by his party men, strengthens the argument that Modi is working on two agendas: to keep the common people engaged by talking big on economics and on the other hand, continuing social polarisation to consolidate Hindu votes for the BJP.

Any discerning mind will not miss this signal that has emerged in the first 100 days of Modi’s rule.

The signal is alarming. The dichotomy between perception and reality has widened.

As I began writing this post from the security of my home, I caught a glimpse of the television from the corner of my eye. The news channel showed images of thousands of people from across the country protesting against excessive taxation and demanding an end to corruption.

While some sat right in front of the parliament house to protest, others called for civil disobedience by all citizens through refusing to pay taxes. People are angry, sides are being picked and fingers pointed.

Politicised and complicated, the issue seems irresolvable to some who have lost hope. Meanwhile, devastating floods are wreaking havoc and killing people in hundreds.

Also read:Imran in 'battle of nerves' with PM Nawaz

Against all this, I couldn't help but wonder how we treat other issues which are not even controversial and yet, equally devastating. One such issue forms the core of our economic troubles: climate change.

The global phenomenon of climate change, which has been affecting the region, is given minimal to no attention as it’s hastily considered an issue of the future rather than an imminent threat.

The perception couldn't be more wrong.

Pakistan, with its millions of populace, has been falling victim to agricultural loss, destruction of infrastructure and loss of lives and property at an alarming rate more recently than ever before. All of this has a huge toll on the country’s prosperity and that of yours and mine.

Explore:‘Pakistan lagging in efforts to curb climate change’

'But what does climate change have to do with my frustrations as a Pakistani citizen?,' you may ask.

Well, it has a lot to do with it.

In the past three years alone, repeated floods have inflicted serious damage on Pakistan’s economy, halving its potential economic growt,h and moreover creating the burden of billions of dollars for post-disaster efforts as stated by the World Bank.

A total of $17 billion was lost just in the years 2010, 2011 and 2012, due to lack of preemptive measures to forewarned and recurring floods.

If the initial high-cost climate change adaptation measures were implemented on the national level, as opposed to low-cost mitigation efforts following the floods, the outcome could have been very different, both in financial terms and in the number of lives that could have been saved.

Also read:Migration seen through the prism of climate change

But it doesn't end here.

There's also the issue of power shortages, which have left millions of Pakistanis in a state of chronic aggravation, and is obstructing economic growth in the land. Loadshedding in the industrial sector has cost the country over two per cent of the GDP, over US $1 billion of export earnings and potential displacement of more than 400,000 workers as shown by research on the “Economic Cost of Power Outages”.

According to a report published by the International Energy Agency (IEA, 2012), 38 per cent of people in Pakistan remain without access to electricity. In light of this, alternate sources of energy can provide the boon needed to meet this challenge.

The government's solar energy streetlight project in the city of Gujranawala is worth mentioning.

However, in order to truly meet this obstacle, there needs to be a greater commitment. Wind energy, hydropower, biogas, geothermal and tidal/wave energy projects are currently being carried out successfully across the country on a small scale. It is only through public support and campaigning that we can move towards effectively running these projects on a larger scale to meet with the national energy crisis.

In times like these, it is vital for us to figure out the root cause of our social and economic instability, and initiate countermeasures to fight it. Adaptation to climate change is one such vital measure.

Read on:Is Pakistan ready for a monsoon catastrophe?

However, not many are willing to do it. As monsoon rains and floods rage on, over 200 people have died and thousands rendered homeless. The monetary price of nature is too expensive for us to neglect.

We simply cannot afford to continue our neglectful ways.

So pay the tax; the tax nobody asked for; the tax you didn't already offer to pay, the tax that is owed to this planet for the damage we have been doing to it and for our negligence in sustaining it.

Alternatively, you could engage in a 'civil disobedience' against climate change by investing in greener initiatives and making it a priority to struggle for a flourishing Pakistan.