A week ago, I texted a fellow journalist and asked him what he thought of the election results. His reply: Pakistan 1, Rest of the World 0.
As the sense of euphoria settles down, we wait for the negotiations to end, for the oath taking ceremonies, and the flashbulbs that will explode when our future Prime Minister will vow to serve the nation.
As a nation, we are used to waiting. We wait for leaders to fulfill promises [usually in vain], we wait for politicians to finish their cups of tea and make decisions in rooms surrounded by gaudy furniture, as they decide who will become the next Prime Minister. We wait for basic amenities, we wait for results of inquiries [which usually never come or are filled with a million discrepancies]. We wait, and occasionally, like today, we are filled with hope too, that maybe there will be changes, positive changes and that we can tell our children, our cats, our friends far away that there is light at the end of this dark, dreary tunnel.
But maybe I’m just tired of not believing in a better future or that our leaders may have changed for the better, and am grasping desperately to believe that Pakistan’s real life will soon begin. Or maybe Article 58(2)B will be used in the near distant future, and our euphoric bubble will be cruelly burst once again. For now, I’m just going to wait for tomorrow.