“Kon tujhe yaad kare ga, yahan koi kisi ko yaad nahi karta” (No one will remember you, because here nobody remembers anyone)

Not too long ago, Pakistan witnessed the début of one of the most talented and mesmerising young bowlers in the history of cricket. An aspiring teenager who, at the age of 17, had begun bowling for his country in all formats of cricket. Yes, I am talking about the very promising Mohammad Aamir. I don't think anyone has been able to forget what a match-winner this lad had proven to be. Who can forget those deadly spells that played a significantly important part in winning us the World T20 in 2009, or the sight of a 17-year-old showing Sachin Tendulkar the way back to the pavilion? Suffice to say that numerous flashbacks will keep flowing in – including some very unwanted ones. In the summer of 2010, Aamir was found guilty of deliberately bowling two no-balls against England in the Lords Test match. The left-arm fast bowler who was at the peak of his career at the time, claims that he was forcefully asked to bowl the no-balls by Mazhar Majeed - a British sporting agent and a bookmaker who played the 'lead role' in the spot-fixing story. Aamir is seen giving an explanation in his latest interview on September 5, in Geo News' "Bolain Kya Baat Hai":

"On one hand he (Majeed) was telling me that a report about me had gone to the ICC, and on the other, that he wanted me to bowl two no-balls for him. I was panicking so much that it didn't even occur to me how ridiculous it was. I thought that they were saving me and if I don’t do it, it might be a problem for me. "

"Although I was a good student, I quit school for cricket. Now that I don't have cricket, I don't have anything." says Amir, who now feels helpless every time he watches cricket on TV. " One day I was on top of the world, and the next day I had come crashing down."

“I’ve learnt from my mistakes. I cannot explain the pain I go through each day. It hurts to see the team play and then realise I can’t be part of that. I messed it all up because of one mistake. But I apologise for that and promise that if I’m given another chance, I will put in all my effort with sincerity and honesty.”

As a director, the making of ‘Vo Jang’ was one of the hardest feats that I have ever had to complete. I went through hours of grave contemplating, thinking, and absorbing the gruesomeness of the status quo of Pakistan. At times, the experience became so overwhelming that I would break down completely. Nevertheless, some things have to be said and some brutalities have to be faced. Evil has to be confronted and demons have to be fought even if it all comes at the price of standing on the verge of losing your sanity. ‘Vo Jang’ is a beautiful albeit saddening piece of poetry by Faiz Ahmed Faiz, coupled with the sheer melodic talent of ‘Laal’. It is a montage of heart-wrenching images of sufferers, as well as pictures that give rise to hope; photos of Pakistani heroes. It pains me to say that many Pakistanis are still confused about the extremists that have brought so much suffering upon us. They either believe that much of this is exaggerated, mythical, or is being done at the behest of foreign powers in order to justify or extend Afghanistan's occupation. The fact remains that extremism has roots within our own society. Regardless of what happens with respect to the US presence in Afghanistan, we have to recognise that we'll have to face this problem with our own strength and for our own sake. It is a reminder that we must stop hoping for someone dependable to help us all the time. With the recent escalation of attacks and other incidents of intolerance, I feel that it is all the more necessary that we understand the utterly destructive nature of these forces and come together to struggle for a progressive Pakistan. Confronting this fascist enemy is the most important task for the people of Pakistan today. I hope that this music video will be able to contribute in that struggle by fortifying our resolve to overcome all difficulties, and all physical or emotional barriers in our path. We all wish to see an umeed-e-sahar (ray of hope) for Pakistan, and that will only come about through sacrifice, struggle and the strength of our convictions. In the end, however, I am confident that spring will come and wash away all our sins and sorrows. As Pablo Neruda put it:

You can crush all the flowers but you cannot stop the spring.

I was discussing some of my design work with a friend of mine, wondering what the film and design industry in Karachi is like, and how my work could make a difference back home. Considering I have an educational background in film and design, she pointed me in the direction of a video blog post. She sent me a couple of examples of what people were currently doing and I was inspired to do something similar. Having lived in Pakistan most of my life, I knew that most people abroad saw Pakistan through the lens of the media and news channels, and it was not half as bad as it was described in the news. Luckily, I was going to be going on a camping trip that weekend, so I decided to take my camera along and ask a couple of campers what their perception of Pakistan was. What I hoped was for their perception to change, to be viewed from a new lens - my lens! At first, the campers around were a bit hesitant about the interview but they soon started easing up to the idea. Funnily enough, many of the responses reflected on how Pakistan was a reminder of the partition of the subcontinent and how Pakistan reminded them of India. It was great to know that many of the participants enjoyed Pakistani food and culture. I asked the men and women, both, whether they would ever visit Pakistan and almost all of them said they would love to do so! The women were interested in Pakistani fashion. One of them went as far as saying she would love to visit her friends in Karachi and shop for all the beautiful dresses Pakistan has to offer. Another mentioned how he would like to visit Lahore as the city was once a Sikh kingdom and most of their gurus originated from Lahore; he thought that Lahore was a beautiful part of the country. Upon asking them whether they believed everything the media told them or how their perspective was different from that portrayed by the news, I am proud to say, many of them said they didn’t really believe the news. One of the campers said,

“So I know what the truth is, media doesn't really make the country look good though or the people. The Muslim people in general”

“All I hear is what’s on the news, and it’s like a fear factor going on over there, it’s just that they try to keep everybody afraid…it seems like everything’s a pot with a lid on it, ready to blow up”

“Message to Pakistan from Canada is about love, it’s about peace, about getting along and if the fella that’s interviewing me right now is an example of Pakistan, I find the people are very kind and honest and no different than I try to be myself here in Canada.”

We are no messiahs and we are certainly not asking you to turn a blind eye to all the problems that we face. It is always good to remain cognizant of the challenges that lie ahead of you ─ it can help you plan better. But there must never be any room for you to lose hope. Hopelessness, we have been told, is faithlessness. And we have faith. We have faith in the people of this country. We have faith in our belief that the people of this country will complement each other. ‘The Pakistanis’ is a celebration of the little things that give us another reason to love Pakistan; jalebi, mangoes, our hospitality, and our beautiful landscapes and people. It is a tribute to a nation that needs a reminder, now more than ever, that there is still a lot to love and cherish. There are colours, accents, flavours and aromas in our people, languages, food and land, that have helped us create an unbreakable bond with our country. We discovered many lovely Pakistanis while shooting this video and that gave us hope. There is a Pakistani in all of us who wants to be optimistic, happy, and believes in friendship and peace; a Pakistani who wants to smile and dream. We are hopeful people and we ask you to find hope! Be positive. Be productive. Be passionate. Be Pakistani! About the BePakistanii team: Aan Asif Cheema is a senior at LUMS. She is a day-dreaming, romantic and almost foolishly optimistic girl who aims to revolutionise the small industry sector of Pakistan. Saim Sadiq is a junior at LUMS, majoring in anthropology. He is a filmmaker by passion and the recent advent of independent filmmaking in the country has made him extremely hopeful about the future of cinema in Pakistan as a strong voice to reckon with. Imran Ahmad Khan is a junior at LUMS, majoring in economics and politics. Cricket remains his first (and last) love, and he is a proud Pakistani cricket fanatic. Pakistan’s 2009 World T20 triumph and the 2011 World Cup campaign made him truly understand the unique strength of cricket as a binding force for Pakistanis. Read more by Imran here or follow him on Twitter @imranahmadkh

No, I’m not writing to bash Veena Malik for showing too much cleavage, saying sex before marriage is cool or any of the 20,000 things Pakistanis habitually bash her for. I have actually been a part of ‘Team Veena’ - a big fan of this bold, outspoken woman who seemed (unlike the rest of this nation) to keep it real, even in the face of fame and celebdom. No more so I am afraid. If you haven’t watched the clip above, let me narrate what happens in it. VEENA MALIK MINI-EXORCIST EPISODE SCRIPT Veena Malik receives a call-in on her show ‘Astaghfaar’ on Hero TV (a call that is about as authentic as the show is classy). The caller is a young woman calling from Karachi who says she is living alone. What a terrible thing, says Veena, who asks for the woman’s age and marital status. “I’m 24” says the audibly distraught woman. “And you haven’t married yet?” asks Veena. The caller goes on to describe a broken home, while Veena nods knowingly until it is revealed that black magic is the cause of the woman’s current distress. *Cue fake gasp and cross-over to token maulvi* What we have next is just outrageous. We viewers are moved from fairly run-of-the-mill religious filler by the maulvi to the caller freaking out, screaming and “being possessed by a demon” as the maulvi informs us. (Controlled) pandemonium breaks loose, with Veena standing up, freaking out and calling on her team to “check” if the caller is okay (rather than say, dropping the call immediately – or say, editing out the entire call so it never airs). Next we get a mini-episode of The Exorcist, with brave maulvi sahib engaging with the ‘demon’ with such enlightened remarks as: “Who are you? Are you Muslim or Hindu?” (To which the demon replies “I’m not Muslim”) “Leave now, or we will burn you” (burn who? The possessed woman?) “How dare you as a non-Muslim Hindu try to enter our Muslim sister? Aren’t you ashamed” “I’ll just call for a stick and break your bones (Whose bones? The woman’s?) The call drops. Veena sighs – a mixture of relief and fear. “We’ll be back after the commercial, friends” she says… Veena, I get it. You’re in show business, and this is your job. Read the script, play out the role and give it your best. It’s really my fault for assuming you actually stood for things above and beyond your role as an actor. Forgive me, some of your previous interviews and actions had me fooled. I assumed you actually found religious dogma that tries to keep women in bondage, nay, beat them under the guise of superstitious nonsense something that is foul and condemnable. I assumed you were in India as part of a larger gesture to show that you had no beef with a nation’s creed – that ‘Hindu’ was not a foul, demonic, evil thing. I assumed you were, at some level, keeping an eye on what you would or would not be willing to do in the name of fame and fortune i.e. drop a show, drop a script, or even the much smaller, drop a segment you disagreed with at some fundamental level. I assumed you would never be sitting across from a jaahil maulvi play-acting to the lowest common denominator in our already befuddled and fearful society. I expect such a display from Baba Welfare (exorcist extraordinaire) or Alim Junaib Bengali, but I guess I can expect the same from you too. I’d say shame on you, but really, shame on me. My only request would be: in the future, when a woman is crippled, maimed, raped or murdered in an exorcism ritual (and that happens often) think about the impact of the show you ran. The next time you hear of a violent act against a Hindu family in Pakistan, or that entire families are migrating to India seeking refuge from a nation filled with hate – think about this segment you were a part of, and the message it sent out. Read more by Jahanzaib here or follow him on Twitter @jhaque_

If one were to imagine our dear state as a living being, how battered, bruised, over worked, and tired it must be. Yet, it continues to bear us with patience, solemnity, generosity and extreme compassion. If my dear state were to sing in such circumstances, it would be a mix of pathos and love and sadness, hopefully embalmed with hope. I was surprised when all these feelings above were beautifully captured, arranged and played by one Asif Sinan in his interpretation of Pakistan’s National Anthem. Used to the usual marching band formats of the anthem on TV, cinemas or public places, I never thought that ‘real’ emotions also lay embedded in our national anthem. My national anthem always revved me up, made me stand up in deference and goaded me to strike down my enemies. However, as I heard Asif Sinan’s version, I heard my country weep a little, sing a little and assure me it will always be steadfast. I played Asif Sinan’s version again and thought to myself of God’s grace on us and how this land was created with the unwavering passion and commitment of so many. I thought of how the impossible was made possible, and it was only fitting that such a tender national anthem, played by such a young artist who has apparently devoted his entire life to music, should make me fall in love with my country all over again. My simple commitment to you my dear Pakistan is this – I will try and love you the way you love me. Thank you Mr Sinan for making me renew my vows and sharing the good news with the world! Happy Independence Day everyone!

Women are just not good at driving a car (or at least, that’s how the stereotype goes). An extensive BBC research suggests that women’s ‘lack of hormones’ could be a strong reason why they are able to judge the road with more accuracy than men.  Feminism strongly retaliates against this notion by stating that this belief is only a byproduct of male chauvinism in the society. To settle this dispute, we decided to ask female and male drivers about their experiences behind the wheel. I started off with the most obvious question that is on everyone’s mind:

Do you think men are better drivers than women?

“Of course men are better drivers than women!”

“Women don’t drive well because driving a car involves a ‘logical’ approach to it.”

Would you feel comfortable in the passenger seat with a female driver? “Absolutely not!” replied the male driver quite bluntly.

“If I know the driver personally and have experienced her driving skills then I’m comfortable”.

“She’s as good as a male driver!”

Have there been any bad experiences that you might have encountered with female drivers?

“Whenever women get into a car accident, everything is blown out of proportion.”

Do you think women becoming better drivers is the answer?

“Everyone needs to become a better driver.”

English newscaster Shaista Zaid retires after 43 years of service to the state broadcaster PTV, but did you know that for many years she was also the voice of the English speaking clock, and that to this day, you can hear her on PTCL announcing,

"Your telephone subscription does not support calling this number. Please dial 17 for more assistance?"

A heavy voice, amid fire raging on the screen (illustrating hell fire) alerts us that it’s that time of the year when we all have to seek forgiveness from God– and just when I was about to recite Astaghfar in my heart, Veena Malik appeared and disrupted my connection with the Divine. I shook my head in disbelief and continued to watch Veena Malik address me in a cobalt-blue kameez shalwar.

“Main hoon Veena Malik, is Ramazan main keroongi aapke saath … apne aur aapke gunaaho’n ka astaghfar.” (I am Veena Malik, and this Ramazan I, along with you, will be seeking forgiveness for the sins you and I have committed).

“Mufti sahib yeh kya baat hui?”

"Veena, I don’t need you to pray for me. I can pray for myself".

"Veena jee, yeh kya baat hui?"