Birds of a feather

January 5, 2003

By Amar Jaleel


It was a great gathering of the most powerful and influential elite who have dominated the political scene in Pakistan since 1947. The venue was the famous Great Guest-house nicknamed GG, known for such meetings in Karachi. I was not there to represent my great grandfather. He is revered and respected for his political acumen. He predicts coming events with stunning accuracy. In his estimate I am a wayward person, and do not deserve a place in politics. However, there is no denying the fact that he loves me tremendously. He had once remarked, “It would be in an era of nitwits that you will carve out a pygmy place in politics.”

I remember to have said, “Pinpoint an era Dada Saeen when political scenario in Pakistan was not dominated by the nitwits!”

With meaningful smile on his face Dada Saeen had said, “You are an incorrigible person in our family fold.”

What I am trying to tell you is that I had nothing to do with the great gathering of the elite who have always dominated politics in Sindh. My purpose of rubbing shoulders with elite was to spot my childhood friend Dr Abdul Hakeem. He too has nothing to do with politics. He is a butler in the Great Guest-house. In my opinion, he is a highly educated butler not only in Pakistan but also in the entire South Asian region. He holds a doctorate in Political Science from Florida State University.

A bright and brilliant son of a tailor master, Abdul Hakeem had gone to US for higher studies on his own. In the States he took up odd jobs to meet the expenses. He sold newspapers, washed utensils in the restaurants, and wiped the floors of the departmental stores. While working as waiter in one of the cafeterias on the campus of Florida State University, he submitted the final draft of his thesis to the University for his Doctorate. The title of his dissertation was, ‘Effects of back door entrants on the politics in Pakistan.’

In real sense of the word, Abdul Hakeem earned his doctorate. He taught at Florida State University for some time, and then decided to return to Pakistan to serve the country to the best of his abilities. He landed in wilderness. There were no jobs. One day I talked to him, and said, “My great grandfather is a tremendously influential person. He has been instrumental in the appointment of ministers and the prime ministers in the country.”

Abdul Hakeem smiled and said, “I have no desire to become a prime minister or a minister in Pakistan.” “It is understandable.” I said, “Pakistan just can’t afford a highly qualified person at the helm of the affairs.”

He looked straight in my eyes, and asked, “Then what are you trying to suggest?”

I felt uncomfortable, and said, “Dada Saeen can get you a teaching job in any university in Pakistan.”

Dr Abdul Hakeem did not like my suggestion. On the contrary, he acquired a yellow cab and drove it to serve the country to the best of his abilities. He refused to grease the palm of the traffic sergeants. They turned his life miserable. He abandoned the yellow cab. On the basis of his experience of working as waiter in the United States, Dr Abdul Hakeem availed the job of a butler at the Great Guest-house to serve the political stalwarts of the country to the best of his abilities. I occasionally visit the Great Guest-house and spend sometime with him.

Last week when I went to see him, the Great Guest-house was buying with laughter and giggling of the elite who have monopolized the political scene in Pakistan for five and half decades. I looked for Dr Abdul Hakeem in the crowd. He had positioned himself close to the entrance of the conference hall to serve the distinguished guests to the best of his abilities. I went over to him and spoke in whispers, and said, “Hakeem, I am sending your name to the Guinness Book of World Records.”

The younger breed of chosen politicians was talking at their loudest. Their discussion at times was coherent, and at times it was incoherent. Dr Abdul Hakeem looked at me, and said, “Are you trying to tell me something?”

I said, “I am sending your name for entry in the Guinness Book of World Records.”

Surprised, he asked, “What have I achieved?”

I said, “You are the most highly educated butler in the world.”

He smiled, and said, “The management of the Great Guest-house has engaged a helper. He has post-doctorate diploma in history. He chops onions in the kitchen.”

I heard a loud laughter from the conference hall. A bearded young politician said, “We have been assured of posting of the SHOs, SPs, and DIGs of our choice in our constituencies.”

Mingled with giggle, someone in the conference hall remarked, “This is after all our government. They have entrusted us with the handling of the bureaucrats. The so-called bloody Civil Servants will be under our thumb, ha ha!”

I looked at Abdul Hakeem, and asked, “What is the name of the helper in the kitchen who chops onions?”

“Dr Ameen Jabbar?”

I have dispatched two names for insertion in the Guinness Book of World Records, Dr Abdul Hakeem for most educated butler in the world, and Dr Ameen Jabbar for most educated person in the world who chops onions in the kitchen of the Great Guest-house of the politicians in Karachi.