Imran khan lost the election in May 2013.
There was a huge uproar in the intellectual class and youth of Pakistan who were all rooting for him. They had not even remotely considered the possibility of a defeat thinking victory was their right as majority of them were casting their votes for the first time and deserved the applause.
I do not participate in Politics. Politicians and politics repulse me with their dirty antics but it does not mean that I do not care. I do cast my vote as a responsible citizen and have my opinions. In general, I prefer to stay neutral but the situation in Pakistan often break my resolve not to speak up.
I watched the hysteria spread like wildfire among the educated class in Pakistan as the election results were finalized. I had earnestly prayed for my fears to be baseless and my secret predictions to be false. I did like Imran Khan and considered him a better candidate among others although a bit inexperienced and found his dreams unrealistic. But unlike the educated masses, his failure did not surprise me. Neither did the accusations of a rigging during vote casting that followed.
I wanted to scream at those so called educated class as to why were they surprised? I wanted to actually tell them that it was their own doing. They were accusing the system, the people in power, the people in positions, the people with money, etc. I wanted to tell them that no one else was to be blamed but they, themselves. The fault lied with them. They were part of the same system they were trying to blame. Yes, they were trying to bring out a change, but they were changing a face, not the system. They were not changing themselves.
They talk about rigging!
Let me tell you about rigging!
I was in my masters.
Pakistan was my homeland but foreign to me as I grew up abroad and had recently returned there for higher education.
Our junior class was planning a farewell party for the seniors.
Almost ninety percent of my MS class was male and my female peers made up a small minority. Although there was no segregation, the female students always sat at the front, keeping distance from the opposite gender.
None of the female students wanted to be part of the farewell party preparations. Their excuse being that they came from very conservative back grounds or that they were not comfortable being on or near a stage.
Although I grew up in a very strict and segregated country, I had no reservations working with boys. I knew that I could hold my own among both genders. I gladly accepted the responsibility of being the program host on the stage.
Everything seemed to be going fine till the very last minute. Everyone had gathered and were seated in the grand hall. I was about to go on the stage to start the program when the lead organizing boys stopped me and handed me a piece of paper with three names written on it. They told me to announce those names as the winners when a drawing would be made at the end of the program. I was stunned beyond belief! Never in my life before I had ever done or even come close to any such thing. It was absolute cheating. I refused and tore down the paper.
I felt self elation on the righteous act and prided myself on putting sense into them and stopping those boys from committing a wrongful act. The program went smoothly. The time for the drawing came up. A boy held the jar full of slips with the names of all the seniors while another boy made the draw and brought the slip to me. Enthusiastically I looked at the paper he had placed on the dice in front of me and horror hit me! Like an expert conman, he had switched the paper and the slip that faced me had not one but three names written on it! The same three names with the numbers one two and three written to indicate the order!
I felt paralyzed. Part of me wanted to disclose to the whole audience the con. I looked up at the upturned faces and the realization hit me. If I decided to reveal the treachery, no one in that audience was going to be surprised. They all expected to be cheated, lied to and made fool of. It was the system and they were part of that system. I was only going to bring out their contempt for me if I dared ruin the evening for them. May be it was this realization or may be because I felt like an absolute stranger in my own homeland but my strength failed me and I announced the first name in a trance.
The remainder of the evening was spent in a daze. I watched myself role play from a distance while my mind, logic, and thoughts refused to cooperate with me. Inside, I felt like dying of shame. The shame of being part of such treachery. My heart and mind were screamingly asking me only one question; If universities were training grounds for grooming minds for a bright future of a country, just how were these young adults going to be a bright future of Pakistan?
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