You would most certainly find every variety in the Pakistani lot
Pakistan has an assortment of politicians/leaders. They come in all shapes, sizes and distasteful flavours. Ironically, if we ever had a competition for the one that we loved the most, and the one that we hated the most, almost every single one of our leaders would have an equal chance of winning both titles. Despite that it is interesting that each politician has a very particular style of leadership. And in many cases these styles can be compared to that of shopkeepers that we encounter every single day of our lives.
All TuQ’d up
Without a shred of doubt the only type of shopkeeper the great TuQ can be compared to is someone who sells loose fabric to women. Each year TuQ shows up to make Pakistan a more TuQy place and makes a list of demands. This year TuQ’s encounter with the government (a.k.a. customer) went something like this:
TuQ: Take my plane back to Islamabad now!
Govt: Meh. Whatever.
TuQ: No, wait! Fine, let’s bargain! I’ll get out of the plane. Just have the army escort me out? I’m scared…
Govt: Buzz off.
TuQ: Okay, na apki, na meri. A little media attention please?
Govt: Not a chance
TuQ: I’m so glad we could come to a consensus. I will exit the airport now!
And there you have it. Like any good tussle over a gorgeous piece of fabric it started with TuQ acting like he couldn’t care less if the government didn’t listen to him immediately. Then he bargained and came down to the government’s level. This is cute because it’s a TuQy pattern. When this Canadian resident showed up in Pakistan last year to bring a revolution for the poor people of Pakistan, he did the exact same routine. He threw a bunch of demands at the government, was told to buzz off on every single point and returned to tell the people that they were victorious. Till date no one has been able to figure out what part of the entire affair meant great things for TuQ’s followers.
Baby Bhutto Café
What can one say about Baby Bhutto! The lad is truly doing his best to bring about a revolution. But at times it feels like he would be better off doing something else. And Baby Bhutto wouldn’t exactly be a shop owner but he could totally pull off being a café mastermind. He would buy the oldest and most happening traditional joint and give it a complete makeover.
When this Canadian resident showed up in Pakistan last year to bring a revolution for the poor people of Pakistan, he did the exact same routine. He threw a bunch of demands at the government, was told to buzz off on every single point and returned to tell the people that they were victorious.
You know one of those hip and posh places that have an eclectic interior and a foreign looking menu. But once you sat down to eat, the food would probably be the worst you’ve ever tasted and the staff would have no idea what you’re talking about when you complain. You would end up feeling exasperated and probably wonder what you were thinking before heading on your way.
Immi ki original copy
Go to any electronics market, be it Sadar in Karachi or Hafeez Centre in Lahore, you’re bound to find a guy who has stocked up on a plethora of B-copies and continuously tries to sell them as the original. If you wanted to find a leader from the local scene who fit this description than you wouldn’t have to look any further than Imran Khan. The man literally repackaged “Purana Pakistan” into “Naya Pakistan” and sold it to anyone who would buy it. Lucky for him he was so brilliant at marketing that he didn’t have to try all that hard.
So Immi ji walked into our lives, much like any B-copy merchandise salesman, and offered us a magical journey into a new and wondrous experience. If Immi were to talk to the voters (customers), it would happen something like this:
Immi: Have you tried Naya Pakistan yet? Everyone is buying it.
Purana Pakistani: Well, I’m waiting for the official release so I can buy the original from the official website.
Immi: I have the original! At 1/3rd the actual price on the website.
Purana Pakistani: How is that even possible?
Immi: It has 50 features. It will change your life in three months.
Purana Pakistani: But the website said it could only run 10 features.
Immi: THREE MONTH GURANTEE. Who can beat that?
Purana Pakistani: Well… if it doesn’t work, I’ll be back in three months!
But by the end of three months how many of us actually go back to the store to complain? Not a lot. You know the feeling when you buy an “original” set of Beats headphones and they turn out to be a B-copy? That’s how many people who voted PTI into KP feel at the moment. But with that there are some people who are in continuous denial. No amount of telling them that they bought a cheap copy of their favourite headphones is going to convince them that the headphones aren’t the real deal.
The not-so-passive aggressive Noora
We’ve encountered these shopkeepers in droves. They’re all over the place. The moment they catch on to the slight difference in your accent, or realise that you aren’t the same ethnicity as them, their demeanour changes. If one had to place the Sharif brothers, and not just Nawaz Sharif, into a bucket, then this one would be it.
The latest of their sharifness that’s captivating the Pakistani people is how they’re handling the IDP situation. What’s playing out before us is like any good catty discussion between a customer and a shopkeeper about how Lahore is better than any other city in Pakistan.
Infamously known as the prime minister of Lahore and the chief minister of Lahore, barra Sharif and chhota Sharif know exactly where their priorities are. The latest of their sharifness that’s captivating the Pakistani people is how they’re handling the IDP situation. What’s playing out before us is like any good catty discussion between a customer and a shopkeeper about how Lahore is better than any other city in Pakistan.
IDPs: Bhai, zara sunein, please. Can we get a place to stay?
Sharifs (noticing the accent): Where are you from?
IDPs: We need a place to stay. Do you have any room for rent/sale?
Sharifs: Did you know that Lahore has always been more sophisticated than KP?
IDPs: What? We just want a place to stay. Why are you comparing one city to an entire province?
Sharifs: It’s the most beautiful city. So many people are moving in and ruining it.
IDPs: Do you want to rent/sell or not? Why are you wasting our time?
Sharifs: You can’t afford what we have to sell. Lena hota nahi kuch phir bhi chalay atay hain. Hmph!
I’m sure most of us can imagine the rest of the conversation on our own. But anyone who travels a lot between different cities knows exactly how one of these conversations plays out. It almost always ends the same way.
The writer heads a one-man party. You can join the party by sending a request at: [email protected].
