What, Me Worry?

The News

May 28, 2006

Masood Hasan

When I saw Prime Minister Shaukat Aziz come down the steps of the hijacked national airline wide-bodied jet I peered hard to see if by any chance it was another aircraft and that the big man had finally done the impossible and flown on a regular airliner. The mirage was short lived as the PIA monogram swung into gloomy view. Unable to multiply so many gallons of fuel with so many losses of revenue and so many rescheduling of flights that must go into play to make these VIP junkets possible, I gave up. It struck me that among the string of countries that were on the prime minister's circuit this time, there was a particular spot, which he graced with his beaming countenance. This was none other than the luxury resort on the Red Sea called Sharm El Sheikh. I don't quite know what it actually means, my French not being very good, but surely 'Sharam El Aziz' is something that springs to the lips.

It is apparent that unless the prime minister undertakes these terribly tiring journeys, the entire edifice of this country and knowledge of its very existence would be simply erased from the memory of the thousands of people who live elsewhere. On many of his now legendary trips, the PM has revealed that there hadn't been anyone from our many governments who had ever travelled to such far-flung parts of the world like Greece. To the amazement of the Greeks who have seen it all before and then seen some more, here was this man from a far away land called Pakistan. The Greeks whose knowledge of the world was once legion could only wonder in disbelief why the gods had deprived them of the sight of this benign and smiling man who stood in their midst and said nice things in dulcet tones. That we now have a bilateral relationship with Greece is as remarkable a feat as the discovery of the atom. What is even more gratifying is that we are soon building a railway system for the Libyans as well. Truly the ways of God are strange and wondrous. A train system in Libya with Tulli dressed like Lawrence of Arabia racing across the great Libyan Desert, his white and gold silk robes flowing in the wind behind him and the fan belts keeping his toupee in firm check. As he transcends vast spaces, the cry goes up, 'Behold Tulli the Libyan Locomotive'. Never mind if most of their trains derail with unflinching regularity. Their officials can seek inspiration from men of vision such as Shamim Haider who having derailed as many trains as he could, has now been chosen to plant the kiss of death on sports which are already very dead.

With the prime minister having set our estranged relations with the Greeks right on course, we should simply close down our embassy there, fire the useless ambassador whom no one seems to know, fire the staff and order a NAB probe into all those who have held posts in Athens without ever telling the Greeks they were from Pakistan. We should, while we are at it, disband all the embassies. The PM can do all that work just by himself. When you have a man who can fly even when he is on the ground in Tharparkar, his other home, why waste money on people and buildings? Even the Hotel Scherezade should be restored to its earlier vision of a cabaret featuring voluptuous beauties from the Nile. We should do this before the PM rushes to another remote part of the world like France or the obscure island of Britain both of which undoubtedly have never heard of us or from us.

In the meantime, though this is entirely irrelevant to the subject at hand, President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the Iranian President needs talking to. The man has no style and wears the wrong clothes. Rather than taking a cue from our swank PM and his merry band of ministers, he has gone and returned the 59 million dollar VIP Airbus that his predecessor had purchased. Instead of immediately taking off for the Caspian Sea, as any sensible Pakistani power-man would have done in a trice, he ordered his transport minister to either sell the aircraft or let ordinary passengers use it. He simply did not want it. How foolish. No wonder he is not very welcome here since he is bound to be a bad influence on the 765 ministers we have in Islamabad. Apparently they are multiplying so fast that all self-respecting rabbits have relocated to Attock and refused to admit that they were once residents of Islamabad.

Other than showing bewildered nations of the world where Pakistan is located on the map that the PM carries at all times, he has also sought investment from energy-rich Muslim countries to the capital-deficient Muslim countries -- Pakistan is not part of this squalid club. Having spent about US$705 million already in six months on foreign travel, Pakistan's burgeoning officials led by hordes of ministers and advisors and other lay abouts are hoping to streak by a figure of US$1.5 billion before the fiscal year is done. And since this is the season for figures with another 'people-friendly' budget stew being cooked in Islamabad -- go easy on the spices Salman Shah Jee, the prime minister's housekeeping expenses are a pittance at Rs700,000, although why they want to spend this kind of money when he is never there, is puzzling. Pakistan's globetrotting president, another journeyman in the tradition of the great explorers, who is often not here, still manages to make do with another Rs700,000 spent on his housekeeping, which may be a new way of defining mathematics as the game of the absurd numbers.

A housing colony for ministers valued at Rs205 million has been approved. However, Islamabad has realised that just a colony will not be enough to house thousands of ministers, advisors and other beasts that now roam Islamabad with the same fearless abandon displayed by the wild boars of Potohar. Some have suggested that an entire country might be required given that the prime minister immediately appoints anyone who has a different opinion to the person next to him. That means that guttersnipes like us might one day find our way into those hallowed ranks where blubber passes for intelligence.

As for the assets of the rich and famous, I have not stopped crying since I read that Ch. Shujaat Hussain, who has the world at his feet, does not own a car. Isn't that amazing? When such angels cast their blessings on the land, what is there to worry about? And finally, it has been clarified that the prime minister never applied for two plots from the National Police Foundation Islamabad while he was finance minister We are all truly ashamed that we thought otherwise. I wonder though how does a banker get two plots at throwaway prices from the cops? Was he perhaps a policeman in disguise? Oh well, such are the mysteries of public life. Happy budgeting next week.

The writer is a Lahore-based columnist. Email: masood_news@yahoo.com