In the fog of existence

In these trying times, I have tried a prescription for staying sane. I cannot claim that it really worked. But there has certainly been some relief in spending quality time with my nuclear family and to let the world go by.

My elder daughter who lives faraway in southern California is visiting with her family and my wife and I have the gift of two teenaged grandchildren. But this respite is ending this weekend and I am being pushed back, emotionally, into the whirling vortex of national and global disorder.

It is hard not to be distracted by the assassination of Gen Qassem Soleimani, head of Iran’s elite Quds Force in a pre-dawn US airstrike at Baghdad airport on Friday. Since Iran has vowed harsh retaliation, it would lead to a dangerous escalation in an already flaming Middle East. It also has implications for our national security, particularly in the wake of our faltering foreign policy.

In fact, this scary development has come as the ominous realisation of all our fears and anxieties building up for the past many weeks. As it is, this New Year had provoked some alarming forecasts about the national political situation and regional conflicts. There was this focus on tensions between India and Pakistan, against the backdrop of rising unrest in India.

Every New Year is attended by expert quick reviews of the year that ends and forecasts of what could happen in the coming year. This is the time when astrologers and fortune-tellers find their place in talk shows and it is amusing to see that their predictions are taken rather seriously. I wonder if these soothsayers have to resort to the same kind of self-censorship that media professionals have learnt to exercise – because they generally bring good tidings.

At the same time, I am aware of some apocalyptic apprehensions that a number of astrologers had reckoned in the solar eclipse of December 26. For that matter, thoughtful analysts who have no inkling of the occult have also been forecasting widespread disorder and chaos. Things fall apart and everywhere, as the poet said, “the ceremony of innocence is drowned”.

According to a Gallup International survey, a better 2020 is anticipated by 37 percent of the global population while one in four takes a pessimistic view on the coming year. The mood in Pakistan is likely to be gloomier, given the emerging state of national affairs.

The latest source of dismay, in the specific context of the defence of democratic principles and values, is the manner in which the opposition parties have submitted to the parliamentary scheme of giving extension to the army chief. What is seen as the betrayal of its leader’s defiant narrative by the PML-N has confused many of the party’s followers.

Coming back to my personal account of a conscious attempt to shut the world out of my mind, I have to say that this kind of escape cannot be sustained for more than a very brief period. Even when I did not read the newspaper or watch television or talk to a media friend, I remained surrounded by the realities of this world. There were faces of strangers to read. Their conversation and their behaviour conveyed messages.

In a sense, the four days we spent in Lahore before the New Year eve, playing tourists, were a retreat into another land. We did things differently. Luckily, we did not run into any friends or relatives. For once, in a city I have known rather well, we had recourse to tour guides and other facilities.

There were two visits that I could write about in some detail but this is not that occasion. We attended that high-spirited ceremony of the lowering of the flags at the Wagah-Attari border. This daily military practice that excites national passion is a kind of parable for students of South Asian history. It has repeatedly been covered by the foreign media.

Then, we went to Kartarpur in the Narowal district and that is something that is relevant to some very recent developments. It provided another kind of thrill. Built around the main shrine building of Gurdwara Darbar Sahib, circa 1925, the grand complex is attracting a large number of visitors. We had some quiet moments in the Gurdwara, watching the Sikh pilgrims perform their religious rituals. For us, it was an antithesis of the Wagah ceremony.

For four days, of course, we encountered the fog that has descended on Lahore and across a large swathe in central Punjab. It was something, combined with shivering weather, that shrouded our holiday. We took it for granted. Low visibility accentuated the feeling of being in a new place.

But this fog, or smog, is a story that is not adequately reported while we remain engrossed in political affairs. We do not seem to be very concerned about the fact that Pakistan has the most polluted urban areas with reference to the air quality index. It is interesting to note, keeping Wagah in mind, that Lahore vies with Delhi on the scale of air pollution, though we may take some satisfaction in Delhi usually being more polluted than Lahore.

Incidentally, 2020 is synonymous with a perfect vision in optical terms. It expresses visual clarity or sharpness of vision. The year 2020, however, is extremely foggy in more than a meteorological sense. We cannot see very far ahead with the dark clouds of uncertainty hovering on the horizon.

So, when you want to run away from a political situation that bears fear and uncertainty, you still have to contend with the existential crisis of the society in which we live. The burdens of the life we lead are something we must contend with. You cannot avoid bumping into a reality that our rulers have tried to escape from, playing their games in the isolated citadel of power.

On top of all this, there is this palpable threat of war in our region. There can be fearful consequences. Hold your breath – and wait.

The writer is a senior journalist.

Email: ghazi_salahuddin@hotmail.com