Dude! Where is my Balochistan?

By Talha Masud

Few of my friends go berserk on me to never voice anguish over the Kill-Kill game being played across the province. I always had no verbal answer of that because what I feel is; this province was misused by everyone, from Military and Civil bureaucracy to the filthy and abhorrent stereotype politics. The worst level of the worst politics of Pakistan can be found here brazenly. It is insanity that no one is sincere towards this land but still expects a dramatic transformation. The peace of the area seems a chapter of the past.

Who to blame? Off course our own selves. As long as we are safe and hearty, we never care about our surroundings. This never was the practice in the past. The people of Balochistan had so much of generosity, hospitality, brotherhood, affection, warmth and care for each other. Why we are unable so see even a glimpse of it in the current scenario?

I come across many results of this question everyday. Janeson Boulton, an English friend of mine, visited Quetta in 2006. We went on to become great friends in few days of our association and gathering. People saw him with a strange eye, often started chauvinism, in which we had to intervene and moderate. How sad it is! “Those are other than you people who eloquently depict us as their rivals. A person who even gives his share of bread to the guest”, was according to Mr. Jane, “can’t take the lives of others”.

Then who are they who are so happy doing this and taking as if they are nearing to their destination by such blitz? Talk about the onslaught activities of Taliban or from Liberation fronts which consider ‘some’ as their acute rivals engendering their pointless killings in the name of the freedom. They want to make every non-local, a persona non grata. How far they are acceptable in masses, I put this as an open query for all of you to decide.

My few friends took me a sadistic fellow. One of my brotherly pal practically started hating me because of the reason that I am always a no-man over many points because they are falsely portrayed to have widely accepted. I can’t help much in this regard. I get speechless and dumbstruck at times.

It is a mischance of the province that every now and then, malevolent efforts are made to disintegrate the traditional harmony of the province. Let me remind you, this is the same province, where people were so involved with communal harmony and bonding. There were no misanthropists and the hand shake greetings took twenty minutes. Can we see those gestures now? My pent up feelings always propelled me to ask from my people with whom I have born, lived and still living: Are you happy on this onset of our downfall? Are we brave enough to stick to our guns in the main disputes of ours? Who amongst us has the influence and skill to convince the tardy government about the concurrent subjugation of our people and spiteful loses of lives, almost half a dozen each day, to all intents and purposes? Have we ever noticed our own flouting intentions?

I have an answer of my self-posed questions. Whatever is happening is risible for everyone living in Quetta or Balochistan as the problems don’t confine to any specific nation, but a resounding triumph of those, who never wished for peace in our province. Hats off to MOSSAD that I believe has more malicious intentions than RAW or any of Pakistan’s intelligence agencies.

There is a big game being played amid the silhouette and outcries of sporadic peace. We are enmeshed in our own mess as we have obfuscated our problems just by going on road-liner theories. We have no manners left in us. No adjustments are in our minds. Just going, the way poison of our minds lead us. I am tired of watching the dead faces from our province. Everyone is confused, hopeless, relentless in aghast, astounded, perturbed, and at his wits end, about everything instead of being perspicacious. The biggest deflated is myself who lost few good friends just because of my brusqueness. What should I do? Should I sew my lips and close my eyes like pigeon?

I was born, lived and spent my childhood and lad hood in interior Balochistan. I see a great difference between the preceding and the succeeding time of whopping transformative doldrums and melancholy in the fellow-men. I am terribly dismayed but not hopeless.

When I recollect a favorite lyric of mine, I read in my 9^th class’s Urdu poetry section, and then I understand that Ata Shad had the prophecy of the foreseen dire of Balochistan as he narrates in one of his Balochi prose translation in rhythmical Urdu;

Millet-E Madar E Watan Kitni Zaboon O Zaar Hay,

Din Main Dhuwan Dhuwan Si Wo Ratoon Ko AshKbaar Hay……

(Title enthused from ‘Dude, Where is my country?’(2003), an American bestseller by Micheal Moore)