PAKISTAN and DEVDAS

I know it is almost a sin cracking a joke at somebody’s deathbed but still I would like to commit this crime. I would do this with a hope that a suffocating being might inhale more air with a little laugh, a dying body could be resuscitated with vibrators of humor and satire; a little tickle might produce some motion in comatose body.
So this stupid analogy should be, regarded as adding a pinch of savory taste to lower the bitterness of the reality in Pakistan.

“Derd itna tha ke hud se guzerna chaha,
Hum ne chaha tha theherna dil na thehrna chaha”.

I love the story of ‘Devdas’. It’s first, second and third film versions in descending order of class and magnificence; the third one being the worst had it not been for charismatic ‘Shahrukh Khan’, ‘Aishwarya’ and ‘Madhuri’. This statement is, based purely upon my likes and dislikes as a cinema and literatary aficionado. I think ‘Devdas’ is such a wonderful story that the charm of it surpasses specific time periods, geographical and all so called boundaries. My love for the inherent structure of story and miserable character of Devdas is so tremendous that it resonates in my mind in all tragic love stories. The unfortunate, depressing tale of ‘Devdas’, his attitude, his mistakes, his kindness, his grief and his slow suicidal indulgence in alcohol as a final escape from his melancholy, is maudlin, natural and universal.

The current political scenario of Pakistan, i.e. Pakistan’s love for democracy and the catastrophic happenings which Pakistan has suffered, to acquire democracy strangely brought back ‘Devdas’ to me. Silly but this is how mine crazy flight of imagination is.
If you just change the name of characters and read the novel again with Devdas as Pakistan, ‘Paro’ the ‘Democracy’ and ‘Chundermukhee’ as ‘Pseudo- democracy’, ‘Chunni Lal’ as ‘USA’, Devdas’s father as ‘Establishment’, his mother as ‘Islam’, his servant ‘Kaka’ as ‘Awam’, then somehow you will acknowledge the pain of Pakistan as one is touched by the miseries of Devdas forgetting how gutless, brainless he had been in making choices. But while reading this silly analogy do not consider personalities but regard them as metaphors of various forces in building the story of Pakistan.

Briefly I would narrate the story of Pakistan in ‘Devdas’ fashion begins with a title song like this.
“Maar daala, ALLAH!! Maar daala…
Hum pe yeh kis ne hara rang daala
Khushee ne humaree humein maar daala
Humein maar daala humein maar daala
Humeeeiiiiiiinnnnnnnnn maar daala…”
“Once upon a time there was a young boy named ‘Pakistan’ who took birth in the house of ‘Mr. Establishment and Mrs. Islam’.
He was different, different from his parents, different from his older brother (Saudi Arabia) in appearance and in spirit. He used to disobey his father whenever he could. He never learnt what his father wanted him to learn. He loved to play with a young girl ‘Democracy’ growing up in his neighborhood (India) and was of same age of him. His parents always raised eyebrows on their pure friendship. They allowed the occasional visits of ‘Democracy’ in their house and ‘Pakistan’s’ innocent admiration towards her.
The time went by and both ‘Pakistan’ and ‘Democracy’ stepped into adulthood. Now Mr. Establishment wants Pakistan to discontinue his childish hide, seek games with Democracy, and concentrate on his future, which is to work for and join Mr. Establishment’s extensive business. Pakistan’s parents foresaw the danger associated with the fiery relationship of Pakistan and Democracy and feared the disaster it could bring to their reputation. They planned and arranged to separate two of them. They sent Pakistan far away to a world closer to Mr. Establishment’s heart in order to make him forget Democracy and serve Establishment.
Pakistan but never for a moment was able to forget his childhood love Democracy. He was counting days yearning to see his pal his love Democracy again. He was anxiously waiting for the day when he would return home and be with Democracy again. Democracy grew into a beautiful woman. She was happy in her parent’s house but secretly wanted to have her association with young Pakistan.
Finally, that day arrived and Pakistan was mature enough to make a choice for his life partner. The year was 1970 when he met his childhood love Democracy who was now a grown, very beautiful, and intelligent woman. Her mesmerizing beauty took Pakistan aback. Their desire for each other had built up with passage of time and each passing moment wafted the love fire in the hearts of Pakistan and Democracy despite of long departure. Pakistan and Democracy as a couple was simply unacceptable to Mr.Establishment.
Democracy wanted Pakistan to step up against his parents and make a decision, as her parents were worried about their daughter’s choice of marrying Pakistan. Although they liked Pakistan, they knew and dreaded the power of Establishment. Mrs. India finally asked Democracy if she was ready to marry Pakistan knowing all about the state of affairs at the house of Establishment. Democracy wished they would never ask.
When Pakistan and Democracy met again she told him that her parents wanted her to be in a proper relationship with him and marry him so its time Pakistan should seriously put this proposal in front of his parents.
Pakistan wanted the same. He brought the matter to Establishment’s for their approval. Mr. Establishment never imagined Pakistan would still be in love of Democracy despite of all those arrangements and plans he made, for ‘Pakistan’ to wipe Democracy’s craze out of his mind. Mr. Establishment did not hesitate to show his anger, lashed out at Democracy and her parents. He made it clear to Pakistan that it is enough. They did not want any more visitation of democracy to their house. They never liked Democracy’s parent and had occasional fought with them but this became much more serious. On 16 December 1971 Pakistan just lost it completely. He was shattered, his soul wounded and he just surrendered to Establishment.
Democracy on the other hand did not give up on Pakistan. She decided to offer herself to her beloved. She wished to be in the arms of her love for the last time. So one night she came to Establishment’s house when the house was dark, silent and every one in deep sleep. The gatekeeper of Establishment saw some one entering late at night. He inquired and she did not hesitate to tell her name. With her head held high but her face covered with a long cloak she introduced herself and knocked right at Pakistan’s door.
Pakistan got stunned as she entered and removed her cloak. The purity, honesty, independence, courage glowed from her and captivated Pakistan. Then she surrendered herself to him. Pakistan, who was broken and in shock on the behavior of his parents needed time to understand to ensemble courage. However, there was no time. Democracy persisted, urged him to rise and just embrace her forever. Pakistan feared. He was reluctant to accept that offer. He knew his parents and he knew this could lead to another fight with his parents and between two houses and then Democracy’s parents could harm her too. He did not want any of those things. Democracy begged, cried, and stayed with Pakistan for few hours (consider the period of ZAB) but Pakistan though enjoyed her presence was ready to bid her farewell.
Before the dawn of 1977, the news reached to Establishment’s and that blissful union could not continued any longer. Establishment applied all their force and shoved away Democracy from their house for good.
Pakistan realized later on and went to Democracy to make up with her childhood friend but it was all too late. The pride of Democracy had taken away from her. She told her parents she would never see Pakistan again and asked Pakistan to forget about her.


Pakistan in despair went to the same old path; same old institution where his father had sent him earlier to study and learn the art of serving Establishment. His faithful, sincere, and most considerate domestic servant ‘Kaka Awam’ accompanied him. Awam loved Pakistan and prayed always for the long life, security, and safety of Pakistan. Despondent Pakistan was passing his days aimlessly when one day he met his old college friend USA (Chunni-lal). USA was a rich vagabond kind-of-a-boy who had diverse set of values, life style than Pakistan. Pakistan knew his father Mr. Establishment wished Pakistan to adopt the same kind of life style as USA had but Pakistan never really felt comfortable with USA’s or Establishment’s ethics, ideologies and over all their perspectives towards life.
The great wave of depression and the pain of parting with ‘Democracy’ were unbearable to Pakistan. One day Pakistan asked USA about his secret of well being. And USA showed him bottle of ‘conspiracy’ and his addiction towards it. Pakistan knew all about it but smartly kept himself away as he had taught by the teachings of his mother Islam to do so. Nevertheless, to alleviate the pain of ‘Democracy’, to forget her, to shun his guilty conscience he drank it.
The drink did help Pakistan in finding momentary joy and relief but the pain did not go away completely. The bitter memories of Democracy, those few moments spend in her enchanting presence were giving him sleepless nights. ‘Awam’ the faithful servant of Pakistan was worried about him but he was helpless had no power. Then one-day Pakistan requested USA to take him to the place, to that world of which USA is a regular visitor. USA asked Pakistan to think twice as that place was not for a boy like Pakistan but Pakistan insisted.
So Pakistan stepped into the world of ‘Agencies’ (Brothel house), where many girls ‘Cracies’ such as Theocracy, Aristocracy, Autocracy, Plutocracy were sold. They were masters of providing temporary joy and they were famous for bringing transient peace to the turmoil state of their customers. The regular customer of that market was Pakistan’s friend USA. He arranged fine intelligent and the prettiest ‘Cracy’ of all named ‘pseudo-Democracy’ (Chundermukhee).
Pseudo –democracy fell in love with Pakistan at his first sight but Pakistan did not like her cheap styles and liberal acts of flirtations. He asked USA to take him away from this vulgar world, which did not help him out. The beauty of Pseudo-democracy failed to wipe out Pakistan’s first love. Pseudo-democracy loved challenges and to her Pakistan was a trophy, which she did not want to loose. She had seen for the first time in her life someone who was not impressed by her charms and seductive styles. She asked USA to bring Pakistan once again to her. Pakistan came back to her but, only to let her know that he was committed to democracy. He told Pseudo-democracy that democracy was his true love. He lived and could die for her but he would never cheat her. Pseudo-democracy but did not give up on Pakistan. She had never seen any man so sincere, devoted, and true to any girl. She asked Pakistan to stay in her company for one night only. Pakistan accepted. He drank numerous bottles of ‘conspiracy’ so he just could forget democracy for a while. He got drunk and lost senses completely.

He stayed at Pseudo-democracy’s house for many days. Pseudo-democracy’s love for Pakistan grew each passing day but despite of her commitment, sincere devotion, and caring Pakistan’s love for democracy did not diminished. Pakistan just kept on drinking ‘conspiracy’ while Pseudo-democracy left the house of ‘Agencies’ and brought Pakistan to her own little home ( the first tenure of Benazir). The health of Pakistan was going down rapidly. His indulgence into ‘conspiracy’ robbed away his sense of judgment at one level and slowly poisoned his vital organ ‘Unity’ (liver) at another. Therefore, his (well-wishers that includes his sincere caregiver Awam Kaka and Pseudo- democracy) wished Pakistan to stop taking vicious bottles of ‘conspiracy’.
Pseudo-democracy’s unconditional love finally did touch Pakistan’s heart but his deteriorated health, his pure conscience told him that he was not fit for any one even Pseudo-democracy. He realized he would die soon then this would be unjust to poor Pseudo-democracy. Kaka Awam never liked Pseudo-democracy. He wanted to take Pakistan back to his mother Islam and prevent him from all these evil drinks of conspiracies and world of ‘Agencies’. He wanted to see Pakistan strong and happy. He thought that Pakistan would achieve all that if he just quit his addiction with conspiracy and go back to his Mother.
It was a pleasant surprise for Kaka Awam when Pakistan begged him to take him away from this world of Agencies and conspiracies. Innocent Kaka Awam did not understand that Pakistan wanted to see his true love Democracy before he would see death. Kaka Awam happily made all the preparations took all the necessary medications, which could help heal Pakistan’s, worsen Unity, and trashed all bottles of conspiracy and they rode in the train of ‘Time’.

Pakistan was ill but happy. He had only one thing on his mind, only one picture in his heart and only one name on his lips; Democracy, Democracy, Democracy!

Kaka Awam was satisfied. He thought, once Pakistan would reach his parent’s house he would be in secured position. Everything was going routinely when one night when Kaka Awam was off board for a while and Pakistan was in semi conscious state USA jumped in the train (2001 after 9/11). He was carrying his favorite drink ‘conspiracy’ with him, which he offered to Pakistan. Pakistan accepted that lethal drink once again during his bleak moments in order to gain little strength so he would see democracy. The unity (liver) of Pakistan, which was already in terrible shape, could not absorb any more of that poison. Pakistan vomited, coughed blood (suicide bombings) profusely since that day. When Kaka Awam returned he panicked to see Pakistan in that state. Every passing second was worsening Pakistan’s health and building sadness, restlessness in Awam.

I would leave the story of Pakistan here now. I do not want the story of Pakistan to end like Devdas dying tragically right in front of the doors of Democracy and never getting a chance to embrace her.

“Picture abhee baqee hai meire doast”…………..(From ‘Om shanti Om’)