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Imran Khan -- the latter day Asghar Khan -- was described
as a sight for the gods by the commentators in the sports
arenas. Now, he looks more like Alice in Wonderland in the
treacherous field of politics.
Envy of every testosterone-charged man, the debonair Mr.
Khan cut a macho figure after whom comely maidens lusted.
But that was yesterday.
Today, he looks lost and bewildered, like the proverbial
'babe in the woods'. The sportsman extraordinaire looks
helpless in politics – a fish gasping for breath in the
middle of a desert. He may also have realized that size does
matter when it comes to the presence in the Parliament.
This straight shooter has been wandering in the wilderness
of political ideologies in search of an identity not knowing
that a politician's best asset is his 'lie'ability. The
philanthropist, who put up a charitable medical institution,
perhaps does not know that to succeed in politics it is
often necessary to climb down from noble principals.
Jemima was an asset that Imran squandered away like the
goodwill earned as a sportsman and socialite of the
international jet set. However, his succumbing to portraying
her as a devout convert to Islam is akin to the
disappearance of Musharraf's dogs and ever lengthening of
Yousuf Yohanna's beard -- something contrived to appease the
big mouthed mullahs. However, his dignified handling of the
divorce did indeed help him regain respect all around.
Imran's untarnished image is a unique phenomenon in our
society that is mired in corruption. His entry into politics
raised hopes among those seeking a change in the hopeless
system run by the soulless feudal lords, despicable
opportunists, two-faced mullahs and self-indulgent military.
Then, where did he go wrong? How did the intellectually
challenged mullahs with agendas larger than their vote banks
woo him? Why did he, a man of distinct individuality, choose
to look like the sidekick of Qazi Hussein Ahmed?
Here is something that you may find quite apt to the Khan-Qazi
political romance: "There was this Mr. Khan who liked
listening to chirping of the birds. One evening he saw an
eagle sitting on a tree in the backyard. He whistled at the
bird and heard the whistle back. Khan was fascinated with
the response from the eagle. He started to play the fun game
of communicating with the mighty bird every night. One day,
Mrs. Qazi got to the dividing wall for a neighborly chat
with Mrs. Khan. The two ladies were amused to learn that
both the husbands were getting out to the respective yards
at night to whistle at the bird" -- obviously whistling at
each other mistaking the other as being the mighty eagle.
No one expects Imran Khan to hitch a ride to the
Parliament on a tank. Why then is he lining up in the queue
of the halva group? Many like me get the urge to pull him
away and point to the bus stop that will take him to where
all of us want to go. "It is never too late to be what you
might have been."
The rumor has it that the Khan is intolerant of dissent.
The know-alls say that he is opinionated like BB,
self-centered like the N, authoritarian like Mush, clueless
like our retired generals commenting on the global
happenings, and a typical Pathan in temperament like the
video-shops burning mullahs. If one was to believe the nay
sayers the above concoction would sound as a sure fire
recipe for failure.
Mercifully, Imran is clean in the polluted atmosphere of Q
League, Patriots and the other turncoats up for sale in the
Sunday Bazaar of politics. He appears impatient and wants to
change the loathsome political and bureaucratic culture of
this country with a single seat in the Parliament.
Realistically, his aspirations appear quixotic. The
windmills are too high and the horse he rides is miniature
in size, like the ones paraded in fairgrounds for children
to ride on.
Imran Khan needs a team and a level playing field to repeat
the feat similar to the World Cup that endeared him to us. I
would like to think that he could do it if we join him
rather than merely being spectators sitting behind the fence
of our individual priorities. Anyway, a false hope is nicer
than no hope at all.
I have never met the gentleman in person and only know of
him whatever little I do through common friends and the
press. He obviously has no idea where his constituency lies.
Nor does he recognize the niche that seeks a leadership that
he can so easily provide. All he needs to do is simply be
himself. It pains me to see a good man rotting away with the
passage of time and gradually turning into a yet another
common mullah.
It is delightful to hear everyone speak well of Imran Khan,
even his ex-comrades of too short a stamina to continue with
the steep climb to the peak of shared objectives. If there
is a man who needs to be rescued from his self for the good
of the rest, then that is he.
The person of this Oxford-educated cricketer par excellence,
the philanthropist, and the straightforward man with
unblemished character makes one yearn that there were more
of them representing us. Sadly, one is reminded of Mao's oft
quoted saying that rings so true when looking at our
national history. "Political power grows out of the barrel
of a gun."
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