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It was midnight in Karachi as four men congregated in the car park of an apartment complex on Boat Basin. The weather was pleasant but the mood wasn't. A young man, probably twenty five, fished out a rolled joint out of an empty cigarette pack. He lit it up, and started speaking.
As with most discussions amongst men, the smalltalk crept surely into the realm of politics. The oldest of them, an allegedly honest government official had begun defaming the MQM.
'It's a mob', he says. 'They killed their own guy.'
According to him, a US convoy had visited Grandmaster Altaf Hussain and had spoken of plans for their joint 'revolution'. As planned, Altaf would go on air and invigorate the party to get them on board for this inqilaab. He worried that this would include propaganda for the spread of immorality under the banner of secularism- an incurable evil.
Conversation drifted to other insider dealings and Daud Ibrahim came up. It was concluded that he was a champion for the Muslims in India, who, were it not for him, would be getting their womenfolk raped (they still do, of course, but that the situation would be much worse); that he was the only 'fuck you' to the Shiv Sena. Somebody offered a Babri Masjid quip.
And then back to Daud. Apparently, Javed Miandad's winning sixer had won his heart.
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