Le saans bhi aahista, etc
People old enough to remember the ‘golden’ period of Urdu cinema would recall that most films of that era featured one malika-e-jazbaat or another. For the benefit of those of a more recent vintage, malika-e-jazbaat was a title earned by some actresses that were thought to be perfect for sentimental characters prone to frequent histrionic outbursts. The prerequisite for becoming one was the ability to produce tears, and hot and cold sighs at will. (All this invariably came out manifestly fake on screen owing to the over-acting involved, but the directors remained blissfully unaware of the fact.) Their male counterparts, who won the title of shahensha-e-jazbaat, were somehow no match for the queens despite the best over-acting skills at their disposal – the late Muhammad Ali being a notable exception. I can’t help feeling that if the nations of the world are all actors, ours is currently the undisputed reigning malika-e-jazbaat.
For it appears that Imran Khan has effortlessly managed to hurt the finer sentiments of the nation yet again. He sure knows how to make the more sensitive and politically correct amongst us to get their collective knickers in a twist. (Or does he do all this unconsciously?) Be that as it may, the furore is refusing to die down, and it is likely to continue until a ‘bigger’ cause suggests itself to the best minds this enlightened nation has to offer.
Now as far as I am concerned, such ‘issues’ (read non-issues) tend to evoke mirth and an uncontrollable urge inside me to subject the concerned parties to ridicule. The present controversy would have been no different were it not for the fact that I find myself in a rare thoughtful and contemplative mood today. Secondly, I owe it to my readers to state upfront that while I am completely neutral here (as I try to be on all non-issues) I am glad Khan used the words he did. That’s because ‘railu katta’ is a cricketing term that at least I heard after a long time, thanks to the captaan. Nostalgic terms like these need to be prevented from going extinct – having been used by Khan this one just got a fresh lease of life. The term ‘phateechar’ too, I believe, is a welcome addition to our political parlance. It has already caught on – in what was a tribute to the utility of the word, the inimitable Abid Sher Ali (no mean wordsmith himself) used it repeatedly the other day. A vibrant political scene needs constant influx of vibrant terms. Having got this much successfully out of the way, let’s proceed further.
This time the outrage seems to be three-fold: On calling cricketers derogatory names, on insulting ‘guests’, and on playing politics on national issues – three things any self-respecting Pakistani would apparently much rather die before being accused of. People defending the statement are pointing out that the concerned cricketers were not exactly A-class; that they were professional sportsmen not guests; and that it’s the other party that is playing politics. Where one side is extolling the efforts to bring international cricket back to Pakistan, the other contends that having err… mediocre players playing under a virtual curfew definitely won’t help that cause, while it could easily harm it. In the meanwhile, Khan has felt obliged to shed light on what the words actually mean, triggering a fresh cycle of debate. A conclusion is nowhere in sight; and I’m afraid there’s hardly anything I can hope to add that could settle the non-issue or even change it into an issue.
One thing is for sure though: we’ve been here before. We have repeatedly shown in the past that although we are a very tough nation, we can be extremely sensitive when we want to. We often rush to claim the higher moral ground, especially when it suits us. From the outrage usually shown on apparently trivial matters, one would think that we would be very intolerant of the things that matter: shady politicians, unaccounted wealth and the like. But a cursory look at our affairs would suggest that that is not so. It is on closer examination however, that it becomes crystal clear that our outrage is only a cynical way of paying lip-service to some transcendental value. In fact, it seems that we are aware of this shortcoming on our part, and realise that the more melodramatic the outrage, the easier it makes the task of facing the mirror.
This latest outrage is no exception. It is as fake and overplayed as the performances of the most accomplished Lollywood malika-e-jazbaat of yore. But while those films always had the good ultimately triumph over the evil, sadly I can’t imagine any kind of a happy ending here. From here on out, there’s only one loser no matter which side ‘wins’ the argument, because as far as I am concerned it’s an extremely phateechar and railu-katta nation if a sizeable population of its citizens lets two rather funny words uttered by a politician get the better of its collective judgment.
I have no doubt in my mind that if some sort of an international drama-queen contest is held today, we would take some beating. And that’s true even if the contest is staged outside Pakistan and therefore no team is forced to fall back on its railu-katta players.
