Adil Najam

As was expected – but much more so than expected becasue of its timing – Ayesha Siddiqa’s new book Military Inc.: Inside Pakistan’s Military Economy is causing waves in Pakistan and abroad.

True to form, the establishment has bothed up things even more than usual by trying to mess with the book’s launch in Islamabad. That only made the launch an even bigger news than it would have been. Here, for example, is the top of the page, front page news item from Dawn (June 1, 2007):

A book putting a critical spotlight on the military’s business nooks was launched from a virtual sanctuary on Thursday and some high-profile political reviewers seized upon it to denounce the army’s role in Pakistani politics.

The launching of the book, Military Inc: Inside Pakistan’s Military Economy, by Dr Ayesha Siddiqa, a military analyst, was due to have taken place at the capital’s elitist Islamabad Club. But the author told a surprised audience that not only the club cancelled the booking of its auditorium, “all hotels in Islamabad were also told� by unspecified authorities not to allow the use of their halls for this, forcing the organisers to find a sanctuary at a third floor room provided by a non-governmental organisation.

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Adnan Ahmad

hoi muddat ke Ghalib mar gaya par yaad aataa hai
woh har ek baat pe kehna ke yooN hota to kia hota

From time to time at these very pages of ATP, we have disussed national and international personalities that are larger than life, including poets like Faiz, Faraz, Qasmi, Munir Niazi and others. In such context it is just apt that we share our thoughts on a man whose poetry has inspired millions of Pakistanis and has given root to Pakistani Urdu poetry and to our intellectual thinking at large.

One such person is Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib. Given his towering and well-known stature, instead of writing purely a biographic piece I will be short and mention a few of his verses and a few of the highlights of this wizard’s life.

Ghalib’s portrait to the right is from urdustan.com

Through earlier years of my life the name Mirza Ghalib invoked a stereotypical image in my mind about yet another old poet from the subcontinent writing on the classical subjects of romance and appearing thoroughly outdated in my world.

Owais Mughal

A friend has forwarded me this notice which is wordprocessor printed and taped on top of an elevator (‘Lift’) door, somewhere in a Pakistani building.