Arabic, Persian, Urdu, Hindi, and Punjabi literature are filled with the terms sayyad (hunter) and said (prey or captive bird), aseer (prisoner) and aasir (captor). In Urdu there is the word qaidi (prisoner), but for the one who imprisons there is no similar word derived from the same root as in Arabic and Persian. At most, the captor is referred to by the unromantic and non-literary name “jailer.” In reality, politicians may be unmatched in the art of running the state mint, but when it comes to coining new words and expressions, they need poets and writers.
The author of Heer, Waris Shah, immortalized the lame villain “Kaido,” who symbolizes the obstacle in the romance of Ranjha and Heer. Just as a hunter is an obstacle in the freedom of his prey, so, by modifying the Waris Shah term, one may replace “Kaido” with “Qaidu” for the one who imprisons a prisoner. In numerology, whether you write “qaaf” with two dots or “kaaf,” both carry the numerical value of 100; thus, whether you write Kaido or Qaidu, they are equal in numerology. Secondly, if the letter “Ain” (ع), favored by Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf, is changed into “Ghain” (غ), a striking difference emerges: Ain has the numerical value of 70, whereas Ghain carries the value of 1000. Aseer, aseeri, and aasir share the same root; similarly, sayyad and said belong to the same chain. In numerology and in the Waris Shah tradition, there is no major difference between Kaido and Qaidu. Qaid, qaidi, and qaidu are links of the same chain.
These days in politics, talk of the prisoner and the “qaidu,” the captive and the captor, the prey and the hunter dominates the discourse. The government is being labeled the hunter, the captor, the qaidu, while Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf claims to represent the prisoner, the captive, the prey. The issue of “Ain”—that is, Imran—is also about the eye. My position from the beginning has been that this time it is neither a “deal” nor a “delay”; rather, political strategy from both sides is at work. The qaidu does not want politics to shine or sympathy to swell under the pretext of the eye, while the prisoner’s family wants a movement to arise and pressure to build on the government under the same pretext. So far, circumstances and actions confirm this behavior on both sides.
Unfortunately, those who cry the loudest often turn out to be the real culprits behind the tragedies. Sometimes lamentation itself is a strategy—the aim is to shape destiny through it. If dynastic politics suits the Bhutto and Sharif families, why should Imran’s family not cherish the same hope? Old families have long found inheritance congenial; the new Imran family will also aspire. Who abandons inheritance, whether of property or of politics? Just as leaving government is the most difficult stage, relinquishing inheritance is nearly impossible.
In any deal, every party wishes to emerge completely victorious. But a deal in which one side wins entirely and the other loses completely does not prove durable or credible. A successful deal is one in which both warring parties gain something and also lose something. Apart from idealism, the second fundamental point in a deal is the difference between the strong and the weak. The strong party enjoys the upper hand, while the weaker remains subordinate. A deal between strong and weak inevitably favors the strong more and harms them less; the weak receives little and must give much.
Suppose any deal occurs between the government and Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf: the ruling government will hold the upper hand, and PTI will be subordinate. Since a deal is not the government’s compulsion but more of PTI’s necessity, it will have to bend. From day one, the government’s offer has been: accept the existing system and sit quietly, and you may be transferred to Bani Gala. Two negotiators—Gandapur and an American delegation—initially had Imran Khan’s support, but the matter did not progress because Khan, his sisters, and the YouTubers internally desire that once he exits jail, the journey from platform to throne should begin immediately. The government, too, is in experienced hands; they are neither novices nor temporary players. They are not ready to strike their own feet with an axe. This is the internal story: one side desires “surrender,” the other “wonder.” No compromise detached from practical realities is possible. Either Imran must submit rather than immediately subdue the government and establishment, making a deal possible; or the government must face unavoidable compulsion and internal or external pressure so intense that it has no option but to bend—then a deal may happen. For now, there is neither indication nor immediate possibility of such a development on either side.
Regarding the captive and captor, prey and hunter, prisoner and qaidu, the real issue is PTI’s imaginative ideology based solely on popularity. Even before 2024, I had mentioned the bitter reality of “acceptability” in security-state Pakistan, and my PTI-leaning YouTuber friends came after me relentlessly. Now, if even a hint of a deal or contact with that same acceptability appears, they begin celebrating the success of the revolution—and simultaneously threaten guillotines like in France after the revolution. For them, Imran’s release from jail is loss upon loss, and his staying in jail is benefit upon benefit. Why would they go against their own interests? Their stance is understandable but entirely self-serving—and in truth, contrary to Imran Khan’s personal interest.
Personally, as a humble student of history, literature, journalism, law, and ethics, I stand not with the hunter but with the prey; not with the qaidu but with the prisoner. The captor does not seem oppressed to me—the captive does. In the political history of India and Pakistan, for people of literature and journalism, the hunter, captor, and qaidu have symbolized the rival, while the prey, prisoner, and captive have symbolized the beloved. Under the same influence, despite my fondness for birds, none of my pet birds are prey or captive—they roam free and feed freely. Yet what can one do? The world does not run according to our wishes. Time does not seek our opinion while passing. The reality is: why would the hunter free the prey and create trouble for himself by releasing the prisoner and becoming captive to difficulty? On the other side, PTI’s cheetahs and eagles, riding the horse of popularity, have leapt over the wall of reason and left the track. Horse races are run within the track, not outside it. The battle for power must be fought within the country, not abroad. Struggles are won on the streets, not on keyboards. There is no recognition of realities on either side. If after conflict and defeat negotiations and reconciliation must eventually occur, then let them happen sooner—the country’s welfare lies in that.