Hina Rabbani Khar And My Nightmare

Harish Tyagi/European Pressphoto Agenc  (via WSJ)

Last week after reading various status updates by my friends who were gushing over Hina Rabbani Khar’s good looks, I googled her to learn more.

Hina Rabbani Khar is the newly appointed Foreign Minister of Pakistan. She was born into a family of politicians and businessmen 34 years ago. She has a Bachelor’s degree in Management Sciences from Lahore University and a Master’s degree in Hospitality Management from the University of Massachusetts. She has two daughters and co-owns the Polo Lounge, a restaurant located on the Lahore Polo Ground.

After browsing the limited information about her that is available on the web, I went on to watch videos of her India visit, her first major diplomatic assignment. Initially, I thought she was lip-syncing to someone else’s voice. But soon enough I realized that although it was someone else—the GHQ back home—speaking through her, the indomitable, dabang voice was her own. I was a bit intimidated by her strict demeanor. While watching the last video in which the latest fashion icon was offering a chadar at Ajmer Sharif, I fell asleep.

I started having a nightmare in broad daylight, although at that time I didn’t have a clue that it was a dream. Everything felt so real. I heard Hina Rabbani Khar’s prayer after offering the chadar. She was asking Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya to make her Hindustan’s malika or queen. As she walked out of the dargah, I saw several men prostrating before her on a large ground. I spotted many media personalities, blogger friends, and Facebook friends among them. They were hailing Ms Khar, chanting, “Malika-e-Hindustan zindabad.”

She looked larger than life and was in the same attire—resplendent in the blue dress, Roberto Cavalli sunglasses, fresh water pearl necklace, and carrying the oversized Hermes Birkin bag—as she was on the day of her arrival.

Now she was speaking from a podium. She exhorted the prostrating men and ordered them to become murgas for their sexist commentary and reporting. While the men struggled to hold their ears from under their knees, she announced that she was serious about her job, and that if anyone referred to her as a fashion icon again, he or she would be beheaded on her orders.

Then she addressed the women standing behind all the murgas. She welcomed all those who had Hermes Berkin bags to join her elite army, and the rest were to work in the farms or at construction sites. I was also among those women. I looked at my bag. It was a home-stitched bag made from old worn-out pants. I started crying. In fact, most of the women started crying. There was a lot of wailing, bawling, lamenting. I could even hear doleful background music.

Amidst that vortex of cacophony, I was woken up by my husband who was asking me to make tea. I could still hear the loud lamenting, which I realized was coming from a TV serial my mother was watching.

We have subscribed to two Hindi channels—Aapka Colors and Zee—for my parents, who arrived two weeks ago from India. As I was passing by the living room to go to the kitchen, my mother exclaimed, “You should listen to Anandi’s mother’s dialogues.” All I could hear was wailing, bawling, and lamenting. These days my peaceful home is filled with such wailing all the time and it will go on for the next three months. And I will be working full time in the kitchen if not on the farms or on construction sites as ordained by Hina Rabbani Khar in the dream.

Related links:
India Today: Hina Rabbani Khar defends 26/11 trial delay, says Pakistan judicial process slow like India
WSJ: Hina Rabbani Khar’s Birkin Bag in Spotlight