A view from London Bridge
by Tariq Bhatti
Five months and this is what Pakistan looks like...
In London, since September last year, many a time I thought of writing on comparative cultural strengths of each society. I wanted to narrate some. anecdotes. I wanted to share my bewilderment with the digitalised modes of transportation in London. For instance the disbelief over how trains could come and go without any driver, stopping at all stations, causing no accidents. And buses running with no conductors asking for tickets?
I wanted to write about twenty-four year old Margaret, a beautiful Polish girl, who rides cycle taxi in central London in chilly nights and manages to attend University in the morning. The same cycle taxi is regarded inhuman if it runs in Bahawalpur; but is a tourist attraction in London.
It was a windy December morning, a day before the Christmas, when George stopped me at the gate of big super store near Seven Sister Station in North London to ask for alms. I asked "How are you young man?" "Tired" he replied. "What are you tired of" I curiously inquired. "Life. Isn't it", he retorted with proverbial British brevity. I stood stunned. He told me he was just fifteen and had no where to go. "My mom kicked me out of home". "Come on George. You are tired at fifteen. Don't give up so early." Strange!
I intended to jot down my observations of the plight of economic migrants and the cost they pay for their dreams. I also wanted to capture some shades of the life of those Pakistanis who are staying illegally and sweat in freezing temperature while building Britain. They work seventy-two to eighty-four hours a week on less than minimum national wage prescribed by the UK government, what to talk of the UN restrictions on maximum working hours a week. Their cheap labour benefits businessmen to multiply their profits. At macro level, domestic financial wizards interpret this exploitation as increase in foreign exchange reserves; the poor labourers in turn get some extra pounds to sustain their families back home.
I also wanted to highlight the hardship faced by students who do not belong to filthy rich families in my country. They toil and serve at McDonalds, Sainsbury's and other retail shops to pay fees to sham institutes without even attending classes. They pay fees just to get extension of their visas. Owners of such educational establishments get money without imparting any education and the boys get extension to live in the land of the pounds. Higher education in UK does not come for free.
I can not exactly count how many times my heart convulsed on reading, listening, watching or discussing awful incidents that took place in these fateful five months. It is hard to remember any good news from home that got space in the British media. They were dreadful stories and horrific pictures, leading to expressions of pity and derision on the faces of Londoners.
Pictures of tortured women protesters under the boots of policemen; bleeding leaders of legal fraternity being dragged with brutality, judges of supreme and high courts made prisoners by law enforcement agencies, school children being thrashed and thrown in police vans were some of the scenes that embroidered the 'enlightened' image of Pakistan across the globe. There were many more testimonies to demonstrate regime's commitment to genuine democracy and freedom of expression -- emergency-plus and gagged media being only two examples.
In the backdrop of the ongoing protests by lawyers and other political forces and the apathy it evokes, I feel envious of this black British woman who turned the whole council office upside down by bringing one one mouse there. It explains how authorities in civilised countries respond to the protest by their citizens and how citizens demonstrate their empowerment.
I was visiting my friend who works in Haringey Council office. As I was sitting in the visitor area, I observed panic in the whole office. Women officers and customers started screaming and all the desks were left unattended within seconds. I saw a mouse jumping out of the basket and running towards the gate. A stout black woman stood calm by the basket looking with vacant eyes. When I went to her and asked why she had brought the mouse in the office, she replied: "My children are allergic to mice. I complained many times to the Council. They did nothing. I just wanted to make them realise how it feels like living with rats."
After a while the relevant desk incharge came and took that lady with him in his office to discuss the matter.
http://jang.com.pk/thenews/jan2008-weekly/nos-27-01-2008/foo.htm#1 a link of the article on News
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