Have Issue, Will Rant

I wonder what the world has come to, that every day only brings to fore an excuse for me to tear my already thinning hair out, and for my vocal chords to practice extending their already impressive range to beyond the tolerance level of an average human being.

What upsets me even more is that I seem to deviate towards things that I know will drive me up the wall and yet I feel this compulsion to do so… Something like educated lunacy maybe…

My latest cause for dissent is our dear Mushie bhai’s memoirs or should I call them his delusional two bits that on the basis of being hard bound in green and white are being touted as a book, nay a bestseller.

And to think I spent money to read fantasia with a twist. *sigh* A few posts ago, an anonymous person, with no understanding of sarcasm, seemed to think I suffer from megalomania. Apparently, he had no idea Mushie’s book was on the way otherwise he or for that matter she would not have done the grave injustice of labeling my neurosis this misguided appearance of greatness, not when they would have this complete and comprehensive definition of the entire concept in front of them.

I have never been a fan of Musharraf. I am one of those insane people that believe the army should stay where it is supposed to, in the barracks and has no place in the political system of a country. Its role does not extend to putting up hurdles in the faces of bungling politicians just so they can run willy-nilly round the track of ‘democracy’. The politicians are supposed to be bungling, fumbling, idiotic, nincompoops with no semblance of sense, sanity or sensibility. Where would life get its funny factor if they didn’t exist? Look at Bush and Blair for God’s sake…

But to get back to the book and our premiere, I still have to seek a viable reason for this mockery in print. I mean really, his crap when he opens that mouth of his on our various channels any bloody time of the day is hard enough to take. The only reason I can come up with is that the national exchequer simply is not enough for Mushie’s allowance and he needed that little bit extra to tie him over. But for the love of God, British tabloids and tattlers make more truthful reading than this. How is it possible that in nearly 60 years, Pakistan has spawned just one hero, and he sits here, eating, breathing and sleeping a bloody military uniform and with an ‘enlightenedly moderated’ complex to boot.

Reading it, was like reading a teenager’s testosterone induced tale of morphing into a super being and flying into the sky in tights and a cape to save the world. It’s not something you expect from the likes of a self-proclaimed ruler of a State who thrives on promoting himself as a sensible, highly intelligent being, certainly the smartest that our country has been blessed with. Never mind that intelligence and governance are seriously contrary terms.

By the time, I got through a few chapters I was wondering if there would be a rewrite of history whereby future generations of Pakistan will now credit Mushie baby for granting them freedom and a separate homeland from the Imperialistic British. I mean please give me a break… Other than the man who will be forever remembered as the ‘Man who promised to take off his uniform’ only refused to because he might be arrested for indecent exposure, I credit him with no other claim to fame.

Apparently, there is no patriot but Musharraf, there is no strategist more brilliant than Musharraf, and there is no one who is a better ruler than himself, no statesman more glorious… I’d like to add to it by saying that there is no bigger ###$***####### than Musharraf but I really can’t say what the next breed of Military democratic rulers in Pakistan would bring.

Perhaps the book should be categorized as fiction and it would be a better read. The sweeping generalizations and various Mushisms that we suffer through whenever ‘da man’ opens his yap translated into language that would make my dear old English teacher faint dead is a travesty. Who is to say that there may not be glimmers of truth in the entire work but if there are, they are way too dim to shine out or even have an impact in clearing away the smoke of self-glorification that is all around.

He is the one all, be all. The ultimate! There is no decision, even that of an individual going to take a crap that the General has not had a say in. All him! Always all and only him! He has done it all! Except of course, lie, thieve, steal, corrupt… Utter nonsense…

I keep wondering if the man has any sense of decorum. If he has any understanding of the fact that his words can be regarded as traitorous disclosures that no sensible leader should make regarding a state? There is something called a state secret? But maybe I’m wrong… No such thing, no such regard… After all what is this country but my own personal playground, my vessel to get rich quick and the ground beneath my boot!

The only positive thing that came out of reading this book was that it gave me solid reason to reinforce my opinion that our governing body and the people that make it up are all jackasses. What a waste of money and time…