My evenings are usually spent in the pleasantness of my spacious kitchen, which I turn into quite a mess by the time I'm through with the cooking chores. I usually begin with brewing the evening tea that I like with a dash of ginger and tulsi. For me a cup of tea in the evening is more of a luxury and a time to relax when amidst sips of the rejuvenating beverage I also decide on the menu for the dinner.
On the evening of December 27, I was waiting for the fish curry masala to turn golden brown and leave the sides of the vessel in the glow of the hot shimmering cooking medium. I felt satisfied, and with some amount of self-pride I imagined the accolades I'd get for my hard work at the dinner table when the family sat to eat that evening meals.
The time was some minutes past seven-thirty. And as is a usual practice, before I begin with my daily dose of soaps on the idiot box, I like to get updated on all the news and current affairs of the day. So the television was switched on...and my ears heard the unbelieveable even before my eyes could adjust themselves well to interpret the images of people running helter-skelter, screaming and searching for cover.
Benazir Bhutto was shot dead.
All the news channels were reporting the gory act of extreme cowardice with whatever information and footage they could get. And soon reports of rioting in major Pak cities began to pour in. I was reminded of Mrs. Indira Gandhi's assasination almost two decades ago, though apparently there seemed no similarities between the two, in fact they seemed more than poles apart.
Yes, they were both women and had been Prime Ministers of their countries. But other than that, could the two be compared. No, I thought with the firmness of steel as I reminded myself of Mrs.Indira Gandhi's stature as a politician and leader of the people. However on a personal level, as far as family tragedies and losses were concerned, they had both gone through immense pain and distress.
But while Mrs.Indira Gandhi was fortunate to have lived in a democracy, Benazir Bhutto had to bear the misfortune of going through life in exile while her country slogged under unscruplous military leaders. Benazir Bhutto could have lived in Dubai or London peacefully with her children and husband. Was she so innocent as not to have read the writing on the wall and the risks involved in throwing herself in the rising fires of Pak politics? Did she care for her countrymen more than her own children? Was she the true daughter of Pakistan?
Honestly, I wouldn't know.
But strange are the ways of this world. The dead are never bad...all their sins are forgiven, if not forgotten. So we Indians also shower petals of love and may be even shed some tears for the departed leader (of an enemy nation), who, if she had won the coming elections, would have brought democracy in Pakistan. But would the relation between India and Pakistan see much change?
I don't know what will be the fate of elections in Pakistan. There's already speculation whether they'll take place at all. But I surely know that the most hurt and the most scarred for life are Benazir Bhutto's children...how much time they got to spend with her and how close they were as a family is a debatable point, but the fact is their mother is gone forever...
A woman may be good or bad, but as a mother she is goodness personified. Benazir Bhutto's children, Bilawal, Bakhtawar and Aseefa are truly bereaved. They have lost the protective shade of their mother's care and love. This is the price they have paid for being the children of a politically ambitious woman, who perhaps in an emotionally imbalanced moment chose to sacrifice the contentment of motherhood over a dangerously insecure political future.
I wonder if her children realise that their mother could have opted to provide them with a better and much more secure normal family life. I wonder if they realise that she had no right to hurt her family to realise her political ambition.
On the evening of December 27, I was waiting for the fish curry masala to turn golden brown and leave the sides of the vessel in the glow of the hot shimmering cooking medium. I felt satisfied, and with some amount of self-pride I imagined the accolades I'd get for my hard work at the dinner table when the family sat to eat that evening meals.
The time was some minutes past seven-thirty. And as is a usual practice, before I begin with my daily dose of soaps on the idiot box, I like to get updated on all the news and current affairs of the day. So the television was switched on...and my ears heard the unbelieveable even before my eyes could adjust themselves well to interpret the images of people running helter-skelter, screaming and searching for cover.
Benazir Bhutto was shot dead.
All the news channels were reporting the gory act of extreme cowardice with whatever information and footage they could get. And soon reports of rioting in major Pak cities began to pour in. I was reminded of Mrs. Indira Gandhi's assasination almost two decades ago, though apparently there seemed no similarities between the two, in fact they seemed more than poles apart.
Yes, they were both women and had been Prime Ministers of their countries. But other than that, could the two be compared. No, I thought with the firmness of steel as I reminded myself of Mrs.Indira Gandhi's stature as a politician and leader of the people. However on a personal level, as far as family tragedies and losses were concerned, they had both gone through immense pain and distress.
But while Mrs.Indira Gandhi was fortunate to have lived in a democracy, Benazir Bhutto had to bear the misfortune of going through life in exile while her country slogged under unscruplous military leaders. Benazir Bhutto could have lived in Dubai or London peacefully with her children and husband. Was she so innocent as not to have read the writing on the wall and the risks involved in throwing herself in the rising fires of Pak politics? Did she care for her countrymen more than her own children? Was she the true daughter of Pakistan?
Honestly, I wouldn't know.
But strange are the ways of this world. The dead are never bad...all their sins are forgiven, if not forgotten. So we Indians also shower petals of love and may be even shed some tears for the departed leader (of an enemy nation), who, if she had won the coming elections, would have brought democracy in Pakistan. But would the relation between India and Pakistan see much change?
I don't know what will be the fate of elections in Pakistan. There's already speculation whether they'll take place at all. But I surely know that the most hurt and the most scarred for life are Benazir Bhutto's children...how much time they got to spend with her and how close they were as a family is a debatable point, but the fact is their mother is gone forever...
A woman may be good or bad, but as a mother she is goodness personified. Benazir Bhutto's children, Bilawal, Bakhtawar and Aseefa are truly bereaved. They have lost the protective shade of their mother's care and love. This is the price they have paid for being the children of a politically ambitious woman, who perhaps in an emotionally imbalanced moment chose to sacrifice the contentment of motherhood over a dangerously insecure political future.
I wonder if her children realise that their mother could have opted to provide them with a better and much more secure normal family life. I wonder if they realise that she had no right to hurt her family to realise her political ambition.
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