Meray Aziz Hamwatno,
The address in the General Assembly was a resounding success. All three delegates and the three flies who attended were buzzing with excitement. There were people outside the hall who were paid by the international Jewish Lobby who tried to raise Cain, but were ably put down by the metropolitan police, something that the Prodigal Brother has to learn, in addition to smashing microphones and wearing wellies in flood waters.
We stayed in the humble Waldorf Astoria. One can hardly be more careful when spending the hard earned money of all the three tax payers in the country.
We raised the core issue of Kashmir. Our brethren in Kashmir have been denied the right to self determination. In the modern world, their state of deprivation will not prevail for long. One day they will come back to the bosom of the mother land and the national stalwarts like Malik Ishaq and Hafiz Ahmed Ludhianvi will have a chance to launch co-ordinated attacks on the Kargil heretics, the Valley grave worshippers, the Laddakh idolators and the Jammu mushrikeen, inshallah.
Brother Modi also came. He talked about the core issue of terrorism. I think, meray aziz ham watno, that the core issue in not terrorism. There is a core core core issue and that is located in Chak Shahzad. When Brother Tinpot is denied bail, people die on the Line of Control and Hotels burst into flames in Mumbai. Once the state elections are over and Brother Tinpot is safely on board the Royal Saudi C-130, all will be well.
If you ask me, countrymen, that is what we should be talking about, not dharnas and jalsas. There will never be democracy in the Islamabad as long as there are Bofors in Kargil. If a dog dies in Tetwal, we should hold quls the Muslim League House. Brother Pasha will be meeting with deviant mullahs and give them free air tickets. Brother Zaheer ul Islam will be sending coded messages to political upstarts and bullets through post to the pesky journalists. The bullet train to Bukhara will be a long time coming.
When people ask me about Balochistan, I hold my head in despair.
Brother Bugti was not a nationalist. All he wanted was a stipend. He had it in ’74 and was happy. This time, we did not give him a stipend, we gave him a bullet in the head. What kind of a realpolitik is that? Even Brother Shujaat could shuffle over and mumble to him and he would have come into the tent. Instead, we left him in the cave and sent our F16 to drop laser guided bombs on him.
I tell them that the little Mengal used to drive my Pajero on the motorway. He will still come and kiss the golden pips on Brother Raheel’s shoulder. Why are you wasting blood and money, killing university professors?
The answer, meray hamwatno, is blowing in the wind.