Monkey business

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Archive for the ‘Blogroll’ Category

Umeed e Sahar

Posted by Alta on March 16, 2009

There is hope yet,i just wish that Pakistanis realise that only we can make the change,no one will help us till we do it,and in many cases we will have to come out on to the streets like yesterday.Those running the country should know who they work for,and the people of this country should know that they have the power,no one cant stand in front of us if we stand together!

Time for a change 🙂


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Who can tolerate an independent judiciary? By Ardeshir Cowasjee

Posted by Alta on March 15, 2009

‘The reality is that neither Nawaz nor Zardari can tolerate free judiciary.’

Not the whole article but just the bits i feel are important or what i have been thinking of over the last few days,and sadly the people who are on the streets today have forgotten.

The head of state has been busy appointing judges, all of his choice, to further the subservience of the judiciary to the state. He, at least, has seldom made noises about his desire to have an independent judiciary, whether by oversight or merely because he thinks it would be redundant. On the other hand, we have the Mian of Raiwind, formerly of Lahore, now trumpeting his overwhelming desire for an independent judiciary and his avowal to never surrender until he has put back on the judicial benches those judges dismissed by Musharraf when he lost what was left of his mind on Nov 3, 2007.

The reality is that neither man can tolerate an independent judiciary, as to do so would be quite contrary to their respective political natures. Such has been the case with all those in the top notch for over five decades. Nawaz Sharif’s 1997 physical assault upon the Supreme Court cannot be forgotten or forgiven, as cannot his earlier wish to imprison a sitting chief justice of Pakistan for one night so as to impress upon him who was the boss-man calling the shots. His principled and moral stand, as he terms it, has to be highly suspect.

As husband of the prime minister Asif Ali Zardari is on record as having offered a Supreme Court justice the office of chief justice of Pakistan providing he handed over an undated letter of resignation.

Its funny,we have a memory similar to that of a goldfish.I wonder what others think of all this mess.I feel that Asif nor Nawaz will be able to handle a free judiciary,your thoughts?

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Posted by Alta on March 10, 2009

I loved it,what a crazy song!!  Lyrics follow

Ranaji mare gusse me aaye
aiso balkhaaye…
agiyaa barasaaye
gabraaye maaro chain] – 2

Jaise door des ke
Jaise door des ke tower me ghus jaaye re aeroplane – 2

Ranaji mare gusse me aaye
aiso balkhaaye
agiyaa barasaaye
gabraaye maaro chain

jaise door des ke tower me ghus jaaye re aeroplane – 2

Ranaji maare aise gurraye, aiso tharraye
bhar aaye maare nain
jaise sare aam bai…
jaise sare aam iraaq me jaake jam gaye uncle Sam – 2

Ranaji maare ….

Ranaji mari saas nanath ke tane…
Ranaji mare jeth sasur ki bane,
Haeee, Ranaji tappe bhoot pareth ki chaya
Ayee, Ranaji tappe ill bill tan ka saya
Sajini ko dear bole, Tharre ko beer bole
Mange  hai english boli,  Mange hai english choli
mange hai english jaipur, english bikaner
Jaise bisleri ki..
Jaise bisleri ki bottle pike bangaye english man – 2

Ranaji maare…

Ranaji mare soutan ko ghar le aye – 2
Puche tho bole, friend hamari hai haiye.. – 2
Ranaji ne tanda chakku yu khola – 2
Bole ki haye tanda mane coco-cola
Ranaji bole auro ki basti mai hai shor rani
Hai hai hai hai..
auro ki basti mai hai shor rani
Hoi hoi hoi hoi
Auro ki basti mai hai shor rani
Kuyki yeh dil mange more rani
More rani, more rani, more rani..
Mari tho beech bazariya, hai badnami hogayi
Mare tho laal chunariya sharam se pani hogayi
Maro tho dhak dhak hove jo jo beethe raine

Jaise har ek baat pe…

Jaise har ek baat pe democracy me lagai lagao ban – 2
Jaise door desh ke tower mai ghus jaaye re aeroplane – 2
Jaise sare aam Iraq mai jake jam gaye uncle Sam – 2
Jaise bina baat afgaanistaan ka…
Jaise bina baat afgaanistaan ka bajgayo bhaiyya band – 2
Jaise door desh ke tower mai ghus jaaye re aeroplane
Ranaji mareee……

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Illusion and reality By Asha’ar Rehman Thursday, 05 Mar, 2009

Posted by Alta on March 5, 2009

his spring day, Lahore says it with flowers again. The green patch at the centre of the Liberty Roundabout is thronged with hundreds of the city’s residents who are there to pay their respects to the memory of the six policemen who laid down their lives in trying to thwart an attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team on Tuesday.

All these wreaths create a mosaic of colours; it is an expression of gratitude, a symbol that the sacrifice will not go waste — a symbol more of hope than belief?

The Lahoris are becoming used to offering such token gifts to their departed heroes. The scene at Liberty is sadly reminiscent of similar acts of thanksgiving after more than 20 policemen died in a suicide bomb attack at the GPO Square close to the Lahore High Court in January 2008.

The pain has been experienced all over every time there has been a terrorist strike in the city. And while not all optimists have been forced to give up, there is eeriness in the city that clings unsurely to a lifestyle perfected diligently over a long period.

It was once possible for a prime minister to slip into his whites and play some cricket at the Lahore Gymkhana. It was once possible for the Sri Lankans to take home fond memories of a Lahore that had seen them beat the mighty Australians in a World Cup final in front of a partisan crowd that cheered the underdogs on right until the final run was scored. Over time, the fundamentals of terror threaten to snatch from us the valued bits that make up our lives.

The spectators stopped going to the Gaddafi Stadium a few years ago to avoid the unwelcome sensation of being frisked by the law-enforcers. Practically nothing was allowed in since what constituted a weapon depended on the fancy of the policeman guarding the entrance to the stadium.

This sense of insecurity took the mela part out and left the experience bland. And consequently, as the crowds thinned, the organisers could think of nothing better than cajoling and coercing groups of schoolchildren into bringing some energy to the empty stands. Even this ultimate official resort was rarely successful and many a stellar performance on the field took place with only a dog and a few policemen in attendance.

Then the foreign teams refused to visit the country leading to a prolonged lull. The Sri Lankans were an exception. They decided to come largely due to the personal friendship of and mutual respect between Javed Miandad and Arjuna Ranatunga, both of whom had quit their jobs with their respective cricket boards by the time the tour materialised. The Lankans kept the promise made by Ranatunga bravely and their resolve to complete the job was only thwarted by a beastly act of terrorism on Tuesday.

The saddest part is that the dastardly act may have been facilitated by laxity on the part of the hosts. The feeling is that security was relaxed since it was presumed that, one, anyone who was willing to visit the country without much fuss must have thought that he was in no way threatened by the extremists and, two, there was this notion that cricket being so popular here, no one would ever try to disrupt the game.

The policemen who died defending the Sri Lankan cricketers sort of camouflage the real issue. Their sacrifice and the fact that, barring a few injuries, the Lankans survived intact creates a false impression as if the security in place did what it was supposed to do. Yes, lives were saved, and God be thanked for that, but the terrorists were able to do irreparable damage before they fled.

The Lankan guests had asked for a tightening of security, and newspapers have reported that the alarm had been raised much earlier. Yet, on the fateful day, a group of terrorists was allowed to collect at the Liberty Square, and allowed to run away without hindrance. The escape is as disastrous for the state of Pakistan’s future interaction with other countries as was the violence which preceded it.

It could be that the administration here didn’t apply the same standards of protection to Mahela Jayawerdene as they would have to a Ricky Ponting or a Mahindra Singh Dhoni. This was a serious lapse since much more than the future of Pakistani cricket, the very image of the country and its survival as a multicultural entity was so heavily dependent on a successful — and peaceful — series against the Sri Lankans.

There is a case for bringing a basic change in our thinking. The long-held belief that no terrorist can penetrate the ranks of the people to threaten something as universally loved as cricket died a sudden death at the Liberty Roundabout on Tuesday. The happy illusion is no more. The terrorists, who gorily compliment each other whichever group they may belong to, are out to strike not just at how we practise our politics or how we run the affairs of our country. They seek to destroy our lifestyle, our life.

Our schools have been burnt and our theatres have been bombed. Individuals showing dissent towards the narrow interpretation championed by the gun-wielders have been silenced. Cultural diversity bred by centuries of coexistence is no longer only frowned upon but quelled

with violent force. With so many vital parts of our existence under threat, it was only a matter of time before cricket also fell prey to the extremists.

Nothing holds sway over Pakistani households as does cricket. It is perfectly normal for a Pakistani man belonging to any age group to abruptly get up from his seat and start essaying a cricket shot in a room full of people. The local writers frequently use cricketing terminology to drive home a point.

When the wily politician cannot use a crowd of cricket enthusiasts inside a stadium to raise his slogans, he is likely to be found busy heading the organising committee for a local cricket tournament. Indeed, there have been invitations to settle old interstate issues with a game of cricket and cricket diplomacy has been credited with averting a war between Pakistan and India.

Pakistanis do not love cricket, they live it, and, to let a secret out, it is cricket they have been finding a refuge in whenever the news coverage of politics and war on terror has become intolerable. The mixing of the game and violence leaves them and the culture they have built so assiduously deeply scarred.

Its so true,we do love cricket,and we do live,most of us do,and cricket kept us sane.I havent played cricket proper for a good 5 years now,but every day i do take guard,and play a few drives in my room or in my living room,cricket is a part of me,cricket is life.

I have always maintained you can find anything you want in Pakistan if you search for it,its sad that Pakistan will not have cricket for some time to come and no one will be able to find it however hard we try.

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Nothing sells like poverty By Arundhati Roy

Posted by Alta on March 1, 2009

THE night before the Oscars, in India we were re-enacting the last few scenes of Slumdog Millionaire. The ones in which vast crowds of people (poor people) who have nothing to do with the game show, gather in their thousands in their slums and shanty towns to see if Jamal Malik will win. Oh, and he did. He did. So now everyone, including the Congress Party is taking credit for the Oscars that Slumdog won (!) It claims that instead of India Shining, it has presided over India ‘Achieving’. Achieving what? In the case of Slumdog, India’s greatest contribution, certainly our political parties greatest contribution, is providing an authentic, magnificent backdrop of epic poverty, brutality and violence for an Oscar winning film to be shot in.

So now that too has become an achievement? Something to be celebrated? Something for us all to feel good about? Honestly, it’s beyond farce. And here’s the rub: Slumdog Millionaire allows real life villains to take credit for its cinematic achievements, because it lets them off the hook. It points no fingers, it holds nobody responsible. Everyone can feel good. That’s what I feel bad about.

So that’s about what’s not in the film. About what’s in it – I thought it was nicely shot. But beyond that what can I say more than that it is a wonderful illustration of that old adage : There’s a lot of money in poverty. The debate around it has been framed (and this helps the film in its multi-million dollar promotion drive) in absurd terms: On the one hand we have the old ‘patriots’ parroting the old “it doesn’t show India in a Proper Light’ type of nonsense (but even they’ve been won over now, by the Viagra of success). On the other hand there are those who say that it is a brave film that is not scared to plumb the depths of India ‘Not-shining’. Slumdog Millionaire does not puncture the myth of “India shining’, far from it. It just turns India ‘notshining’ into another glitzy item in the supermarket. As a film it has none of the panache, the politics, the texture the humour, and the confidence that both the director and the writer bring to their other work. It really doesn’t deserve the passion and attention we are lavishing on it. It’s a silly screenplay, the dialogue was embarrassing — which surprised me because I loved The Full Monty (written by the same script writer.) The stockpiling of standard , clichéd, horrors in Slumdog are, I think, meant to be a sort of version of Alice in Wonderland — Jamal in Horror land. It doesn’t work except to trivialize what really goes on here. The villains who kidnap and maim children and sell them into brothels reminded me of Glen Close in 101 Dalmations.

Politically the movie de-contextualizes poverty and by making poverty an epic prop, it dissociates poverty from the poor. It makes India’s poverty a landscape, like a desert, or a mountain range, or an exotic beachgod-given, not man made. So while the camera swoops around in it lovingly, the filmmakers are more pickly about the creatures that inhabit this landscape.

To have cast a poor man and a poor girl, who looked remotely as though they had grown up in the slums, battered, malnourished, marked by what they’d been through, wouldn’t have been attractive enough. So they cast an Indian model and a British boy.

The torture scene in the cop station was insulting. The cultural confidence emanating from the obviously British ‘slumdog’ completely cowed the obviously Indian cop, even though the cop was supposedly torturing the slumdog.

The brown skin the two share is too thin to hide a lot of other things that push through it. It wasn’t a case of bad acting, it was a case of the PH balance being wrong.

It was like watching black kids in a Chicago slum speaking in Yale accents. Many of the signals the film sent out were similarly scrambled. It made many Indians feel as though they were speeding on a highway full of potholes. I am not making a case for verisimilitude, or that it shouldn’t have been in English, or suggesting anything as absurd as ‘outsiders can never understand India.’ I think plenty of Indian filmmakers fall into the same trap. I also think that plenty of Indian filmmakers have done this story much much better.

It’s not surprising that Christian Colson, head of Celedor (producers of Who Wants to be a Millionaire?), won the Oscar for the best film producer — that’s what Slumdog Millionaire is selling – the cheapest version of the Great Capitalist dream in which politics is replaced by a game show, a lottery in which the dreams of one person come true while in the process the dreams of millions of others are usurped, immobilizing them with the drug of impossible hope (work hard, be good, with a little bit of luck you could be a millionaire.) The pundits say that the appeal lies in the fact that while in the West for many people riches are turning to rags, the rags to riches story is giving people something to hold on to. Scary thought. Hope, surely, should be made of tougher stuff. Poor Oscars. Still, I guess it could have been worse — what if the film that won had been a film like Guru — that chilling film celebrating the rise of the Ambanis.

That would have taught us whiners and complainers a lesson or two. No?

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The chitrali run machine

Posted by Alta on February 24, 2009

Younus Khan is 306 not out over night and has Lara’s record in his sights,i hope he gets it,i bloody hope he gets it!

I have been a fan of his from the time he was in and out of the team all those years ago and i would tell my friends he should be sent to bat at no 3.He is the best batsmen we have right now and i hope he keeps the captaincy as well,he is a pathan after all and can blow up anytime.

Though he is set to cross many land marks if he is able to score some runs tomorrow morning in Karachi,what ever the case its been a great innings and a match saving one!!

Well done son!! Though i would have been there at the National Stadium as always,i always catch a day or two of a test,even though i wasnt there i saw it live on the tv and ill remember this day for a long time!

Hanif Mohammad’s 337, set in 1958 against the West Indies in Barbados, remains the highest score by a Pakistani, eight runs ahead of Inzamam-ul-Haq’s 329 against New Zealand in 2002.

400: Brian Lara* (WI)
380: Matthew Hayden (Aus)
375: Brian Lara (WI)
374: Mahela Jayawardene (Sri)
365*: Garfield Sobers (WI)
364: Len Hutton (Eng)
340: Sanath Jayasuriya (Sri)
* denotes not out score

Younus’ mammoth innings has so far taken 12 hours and 11 minutes, 545 deliveries and featured 27 boundaries and four sixes with attractive strokeplay on both sides of the wicket.

He brought up his triple ton with a reverse-sweep for three off Muttiah Muralitharan, who finished a gruelling day with figures of 1-165 from 60 overs.

The innings also enabled Younus to became the sixth Pakistani to reach 5,000 runs in Test cricket in his 59th match.

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