Trump Era is over?

If a protest is peaceful, does not create problems for the public, and remains free of violence, it is a basic human right. In fact, protest is a sign of a living society. Dead people cannot protest or resist. Unfortunately, in our society, the protests of ordinary and poor people are often looked down upon, even though every protest should be judged on its own merits. People often complain that today’s generation is not as good as the previous one. But history shows that every older generation has made the same complaint about its youth. Even centuries ago, elders believed that young people had lost their values. Times have changed, but this mindset has remained the same. I believe that every new generation brings something better than the one before it. Today’s young people have access to knowledge in ways that no previous generation could have imagined. The internet and artificial intelligence have placed the world’s knowledge within everyone’s reach. As a result, today’s youth are more informed, more curious, and more aware. This is exactly what can be seen in the recent **Generation Z protests in India**. These young people are presenting their demands in a calm and respectful manner. Their speeches are based on logic rather than emotion. Whether boys or girls, they explain their concerns with confidence and reason. According to the protesters, **152 examination papers have leaked over the past ten years**, affecting nearly **70 million students**. They believe that Education Minister **Dharmendra Pradhan** should take responsibility and resign. They are demanding reforms in the education system, action against police officers who used force on students, medical treatment for the injured, the release of arrested protesters, and the withdrawal of cases filed against them. One female student said that their movement should not be turned into a Hindu-Muslim issue. She explained that her closest friend is Muslim and that religion has never come between them. According to her, the real issues are education, employment, and a better future—not religious divisions. She also argued that public money should be spent on schools and hospitals instead of fueling religious politics. Another young protester remarked that India’s two prominent leaders, Prime Minister Modi and Yogi Adityanath, do not have children of their own, so they may not fully understand the struggles faced by students and young people. Some protesters also mocked allegations that they were receiving funding from Pakistan or China. Holding packets of chips and spices, they jokingly referred to them as their “Pakistani funding,” using humor to challenge what they described as baseless accusations. The movement has not relied only on slogans. Students have also used songs, poetry, and creative performances to express their message. In some places, however, clashes with the police have occurred. The movement traces its origins to remarks made by **Justice Surya Kant** of the Supreme Court of India, who reportedly compared some unemployed young people to “cockroaches” during a court hearing. Many students felt insulted by the comment, which eventually led to the formation of the **Cockroach Janata Party** protest movement. The movement focuses on issues such as examination paper leaks, unemployment, and reforms in the education system. Among its well-known figures are **Abhijit Deepke** and **Sonam Wangchuk**. Wangchuk carried out a 26-day hunger strike before being taken into custody and moved to a hospital. What began in Delhi has gradually spread to other cities across India. Reports indicate that police have used baton charges, tear gas, and water cannons against demonstrators. Several international human rights organizations have expressed concern over the use of force against peaceful protesters. The students argue that India is the world’s largest democracy and that the right to peaceful protest must be protected rather than suppressed. Prime Minister Narendra Modi has announced that cases involving examination paper leaks will be referred to fast-track courts and that those responsible will face strict action. However, many protesters believe that promises alone are not enough and that concrete reforms are needed. History has shown that governments often underestimate public movements in their early stages. If legitimate concerns are ignored, such movements can grow into much larger crises, as has happened in several countries in the past. If the demands of these young people are genuine and reasonable, the government should engage with them directly, listen to their concerns, and reform the education system where necessary. If officials have failed in their responsibilities, they should be held accountable. A strong democracy is one that listens to peaceful voices instead of trying to silence them.

The effects of the defence agreement between Pakistan and Saudi Arabia were witnessed by the entire world during the recent US-Iran-Israel war. At the same time, there was continuous speculation about whether the scope of this defence agreement could be expanded in the coming days. For years, the defence of major Middle Eastern countries has largely depended on the United States. However, during the recent conflict, the US appeared unable to fully protect either these countries or even some of its own military bases in the region. When Iran attacked Saudi Arabia, Pakistan immediately issued a strong warning, stating that if Iran wanted to protect its own territorial integrity, it should avoid any aggression against Saudi Arabia; otherwise, Pakistan would honour its defence commitments. Soon afterwards, the world witnessed a different situation in areas where Pakistani forces were present. While attacks continued in various parts of the region, areas protected by Pakistani forces experienced a markedly different security environment. Against this backdrop, international newspapers began suggesting that the United States’ influence in the Middle East could be entering a period of decline. As the poet famously said: “Insha Ji, get up and leave now; What is the point of becoming attached to this city?” The peace talks between Iran and the United States, hosted by Pakistan and referred to as the “Islamabad Accord”, created further diplomatic momentum. Shortly after the first meeting, discussions surrounding the Pakistan-Saudi defence agreement began attracting global attention. Influenced by these developments, other countries in the region also started exploring the possibility of joining or cooperating with the defence arrangement. Pakistan is the world’s only nuclear-armed Muslim-majority country. Saudi Arabia is one of the world’s most influential oil-producing states and holds immense religious significance for Muslims worldwide. Türkiye, meanwhile, has established a strong reputation for its drone technology and non-nuclear missile capabilities. The combination of these three countries could have significant strategic consequences for the region. Their growing defence cooperation is unlikely to be viewed favourably by either the United States or Israel. Even before the reported expansion of the defence arrangement, statements from the United States and Israel indicated growing concern. The role of American military bases and radar systems located in several Muslim-majority countries has also come under greater scrutiny, particularly over their alleged role in supporting Israel during the conflict. One US think tank reportedly described the emerging regional landscape as involving two major blocs: a Sunni alliance and a Shia alliance, with Israel and the United States potentially prepared to confront both. Such assessments could be interpreted as an indication of changing strategic dynamics and a possible reduction in American and Israeli influence across parts of the region. As mentioned earlier, several other countries are reportedly watching the development of the Pakistan-Saudi defence partnership closely. Egypt is also said to have participated in preliminary discussions, and its potential inclusion in the future cannot be ruled out. If Egypt joins the arrangement, the strategic balance could become even more significant. Egypt controls the Suez Canal, one of the world’s most important maritime trade routes on which a substantial portion of global commerce depends. It also possesses one of the region’s strongest naval forces and a large fleet of military aircraft. Access to Egyptian territory and strategic waterways could therefore have major implications for the Middle East, Israel and Europe. With Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Türkiye and potentially Egypt forming a broader strategic group, the combined military capabilities of these countries, supported by Saudi Arabia’s enormous energy resources and financial strength, could create a formidable regional bloc. This is one reason why the emerging defence arrangement is increasingly being compared with Article 5 of the NATO treaty. Under Article 5, an armed attack against one NATO member is considered an attack against all members, triggering a collective commitment to assist the country under attack. NATO invoked Article 5 for the first and only time in its history following the terrorist attacks against the United States on September 11, 2001. In the coming days, countries such as Egypt, Bangladesh, Kuwait and Jordan could potentially become part of broader defence cooperation, although their formal participation would depend on future diplomatic and strategic decisions. At present, Israel, the United States, India and Iran all appear to have concerns about the potential consequences of such an alliance. However, the coming months will reveal its actual structure, scope and strategic impact on the region.

The preceding parts of this series began with a simple question: why do technically sound economic and tax reforms repeatedly fail in Pakistan? The answer cannot be found in tax rates, revenue targets or administrative capacity alone. Pakistan’s fiscal failures arise from the constitutional and political order within which taxation, expenditure, borrowing and distribution take place.  The country does not merely have an inefficient tax system. It has a fiscal state whose incentives favour immediate extraction, selective enforcement, negotiated privilege and recurring external dependence. The previous part IX applied this framework to contemporary proposals for closing Pakistan’s tax gap. Empirical estimates of untaxed capacity, sectoral inequality and revenue potential are valuable.  Data tell us where disparities exist and what additional resources might theoretically be mobilised. However, data do not explain why those disparities have survived repeated reform efforts, nor why the same burdens continue to fall upon documented businesses, salaried persons and ordinary consumers. That explanation lies beyond public finance. Constitutional Political Economy (CPE) begins from the recognition that the state is not an abstract guardian automatically pursuing collective welfare. It consists of institutions and individuals responding to incentives, protecting authority, bargaining over resources and operating within formal and informal rules.  Fiscal outcomes reflect the distribution of political power as much as principles of efficiency or equity. Pakistan’s tax crisis is the fiscal expression of that political order. Revenue without a fiscal compact A sustainable tax system rests upon a fiscal compact between citizen and state. Citizens contribute according to lawful and reasonably distributed burdens. The state, in return, provides security, justice, education, healthcare, infrastructure, economic opportunity and protection against vulnerability.  Pakistan has progressively weakened both sides of that compact. The state demands more from those already visible while tolerating privileges for those capable of political resistance.  Citizens encounter taxes in electricity bills, fuel prices, banking transactions, telecommunications, imports, contracts and ordinary consumption. Much of this extraction occurs without determining their actual income or ability to pay. Public services remain inadequate and uneven. Taxpayers are then told that services cannot improve because revenue is insufficient. The state responds to the resulting mistrust with more withholding, surveillance and coercion.  This creates a destructive cycle: weak services reduce consent; declining consent increases reliance on coercive collection; coercion deepens mistrust; mistrust encourages informality; and informality becomes the justification for still more transaction-based taxation. A fiscal compact cannot be created through fear. Restoring income taxation The first requirement is to restore the meaning of income tax. Income taxation should ordinarily measure net income after legitimate costs and losses and impose liability according to capacity to pay. Pakistan has instead constructed a vast structure of advance, minimum, final, presumptive and withholding taxes imposed upon transactions, turnover and gross receipts. This structure is administratively convenient. It allows the state to collect through banks, employers, utilities, import authorities and private businesses without developing the institutional capacity to determine real income. Its convenience is precisely the problem. Withholding should remain where deduction at source is logically connected with the recipient’s income and operates as an adjustable advance—principally salaries, dividends and profit on debt. It should not function as a substitute for return-based taxation, proper assessment and intelligent audit. Turnover cannot permanently replace income. A business earning a narrow margin cannot justly be taxed in the same manner as one earning extraordinary profits merely because both record similar receipts. Minimum and presumptive regimes penalise investment, distort business structures and convert losses into taxable events. The objective should not be abolition of withholding overnight. It should be a legislated transition towards a system in which withholding becomes limited, adjustable and subordinate to final determination of income. A genuine value added tax The second requirement is restoration of sales tax as a genuine value added tax. Pakistan has retained the vocabulary of VAT while repeatedly breaking its chain through exemptions, special schedules, blocked credits, fixed regimes, multiple rates and arbitrary restrictions. The result is cascading, litigation, refund accumulation and a bias against documented production. A genuine VAT should apply through a broad and coherent base, a substantially lower standard rate and unrestricted adjustment of legitimate input tax.  Exemptions should be confined to carefully identified necessities and public-interest activities. Refunds should be treated as taxpayers’ money, not as an unofficial source of financing for the state. The constitutional division between sales tax on goods and services need not condemn businesses to fragmented administration. Harmonised definitions, a common return, integrated registration, shared information and an agreed clearing mechanism can preserve provincial taxing authority while reducing compliance costs. Coordination is essential. Re-centralisation is not. Pakistan’s federation was not designed solely for administrative convenience. Article 160 of the Constitution protects the distribution of specified revenues between the Federation and provinces, while Article 140A requires devolution of political, administrative and financial responsibility to elected local governments.  Fiscal reform must strengthen all three levels of constitutional government rather than treating provinces and local bodies as spending agencies dependent upon federal discretion.  Ending taxation through labels A constitutional fiscal order must also respect the actual nature of each levy. Parliament cannot convert a provincial tax into a federal tax merely by attaching a different label. Nor can the executive create a new taxable event through rules, notifications or administrative directions where the legislature has not imposed one. Article 77 requires federal taxation to rest upon parliamentary authority. Articles 4, 24 and 25 bring legality, protection against arbitrary deprivation and equality into the same constitutional inquiry. Legislative enactment is indispensable, but enactment alone does not validate a levy that exceeds legislative competence, discriminates irrationally or denies due process.  The annual Finance Act should not be used as a container for major structural changes receiving limited parliamentary examination. Essential elements of a tax—the subject, person liable, measure, rate and taxable event—must be stated clearly in primary legislation. Delegated legislation may implement the law. It cannot become an alternative legislature. Expenditure is the other side of taxation The debate over Pakistan’s tax-to-GDP ratio often proceeds as though every additional rupee

Nations, organizations, and individuals who rely on borrowed time never prosper. Vision of the future is paramount to growth. Stagnation leads to disaster. In a world driven by technology, only change is permanent. As a nation, we started off well. The founding fathers burnt the midnight oil not only to sustain but also to prosper. Early in the decade of the fifties, the entire development framework was put in place. For industrialization, PIDC (Pakistan Industrial Development Corporation); for water and power, WAPDA (Water & Power Development Authority); PAEC (Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission) headed by Dr I.H. Usmani; PCSIR (Pakistan Council of Science & Industrial Research) under Dr Salim-Uz-Zaman Siddiqui; PSI (Pakistan Standards Institution), now PSQCA (Pakistan Standards and Quality Control Authority); PIAC (Pakistan International Airlines Corporation). The father of the nation, Quaid-e-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah, himself inaugurated the State Bank of Pakistan in 1948. The discovery of natural gas at Sui in 1952 was a gift of nature. At 12 TCF, it was considered one of the largest deposits of its time, sufficient to meet the needs of the nation for a century. Future requires investment, both short and long term. It was Sir Syed Ahmed Khan’s vision to bring the Muslim population of the Sub-continent into the mainstream. Starting with schools, he moved on to colleges and finally the Aligarh University, which not only led the movement for the creation of Pakistan but also provided the manpower to sustain it. In the formative years of the republic, education was taken seriously both by the teachers and the taught. In my entire academic journey, I never once missed a class, even during my term as President of the departmental student union. The first-born free generation was being prepared to lead, not follow. Instead of buying time, the future was being built. In the 1973 constitution, literacy was declared a fundamental right. Under Article 25-A, every Pakistani had to be literate by the year 1985, but the target was not only missed, the entire effort was sidelined. The government of Muhammad Khan Junejo tried to narrow the gap by introducing the Nai Roshni program, which was shut down after his government fell. For meaningful nation building, education, employment and health are critical. The recent student uprising in India focused on professional education followed by employment. They demanded transparency and merit, which were being compromised. Modi’s shining India meant very little for them. Other countries have experienced similar protests (Bangladesh, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Indonesia). Pakistan needs a lot of catching up to do. It is back to the basics of nation building. Universal Primary Coverage is the starting point. Every five-year-old child should be in school this year. This will reverse the trend of the swelling out-of-school youth population. Once primary coverage is ensured, the next target should be to cover those who missed out. The country is blessed with a bulging youth population, which must be made productive. Despite all the challenges of governance, the informal sector continues to perform well by providing the needed goods and services. Confidence in the formal sector is needed for a meaningful and cohesive march forward. In the decade of the fifties, Pakistan was poised to emerge as the first Asian Tiger; now it seriously lags behind while other nations have grown, which includes China, Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, Malaysia, Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, Indonesia — the list goes on. Rightly said, this is the Asian Century. It is time to look inwards. The future belongs to educated and healthy nations who do not settle for short-term gains but instead focus on the future. Pakistan should not be a burial ground for those who build fortunes abroad. The homeland must come first. The best cannot be left for last.

Calling Babarloi Bypass the “Strait of Hormuz of Sindh” would not be an exaggeration. In Sindh’s nationalist political discourse, the name Babarloi Bypass has repeatedly resurfaced in connection with the “Babarloi Dharna” (sit-in). Babarloi is an ancient settlement in Khairpur district. According to historical accounts, including Tareekh-e-Masoomi and Tarkhan Nama, this was the place where Mughal Emperor Humayun, after being defeated by Sher Shah Suri and forced into exile, stayed for nearly six months before heading towards Iran. Today, Babarloi Bypass has emerged as a crucial junction on the National Highway N-5. This strategic corridor connects Sindh with Punjab, Balochistan and upper Sindh, making it a vital artery for trade and transportation. Economically, Punjab and Sindh are deeply interdependent. On one hand, Punjab relies on Sindh for imported goods arriving through Karachi’s ports, including machinery, industrial raw material, chemicals and electronics. It also depends on Sindh for the transportation of oil and petroleum products, as some of Pakistan’s major oil refineries and import terminals are located in Sindh. On the other hand, Sindh depends heavily on Punjab for wheat, flour, sugar, textiles, engineering goods, agricultural products, poultry, dairy and other food supplies. However, in comparative terms, blocking Babarloi Bypass on the N-5 route would cause a far greater economic disruption to Punjab than to Sindh because of Punjab’s larger dependence on this transit corridor for trade flows. Whether the issue is the controversial six-canal project or the debate over the creation of new provinces, some political stakeholders in Sindh view Babarloi Bypass as a pressure point against Punjab and the federal government. Their strategy has been to send a message that before raising questions about the division of Sindh, Punjab and the federation must recognise the consequences of alienating the province. For these groups, Babarloi Bypass has become Sindh’s equivalent of a strategic pressure point — a place through which pressure can be exerted on the federal centre. Last year, a major protest was staged at Babarloi Bypass (Khairpur, Sindh) against the federal government’s proposed project to construct six new canals from the Indus River. The eleven-day sit-in, organised by lawyers, nationalist parties, farmers’ organisations and civil society groups, continued from April 18 to April 29, 2025. As a result, the National Highway N-5 remained blocked at Babarloi Bypass, disrupting movement between Sindh and Punjab. The transportation of goods was almost suspended, affecting supplies of vegetables, fruits, cotton, rice and other agricultural commodities to Punjab. Several industries faced delays in receiving raw materials, while hundreds of trucks remained stranded for days, causing losses worth millions of rupees to transporters and traders. The protest eventually ended after negotiations between a delegation of the Sindh government and the lawyers’ action committee. The agreement included the following assurances: The Council of Common Interests (CCI) would decide the future of the controversial canal project, and no progress would be made without consensus among all provinces. The government assured the issuance of an official notification addressing the lawyers’ demands and promised to provide relevant legal documents. The Babarloi Dharna was considered one of the significant political protests of 2025 because it increased pressure on the federal government, disrupted the land link between Sindh and Punjab for several days, and played a role in bringing the canal issue back to the platform of the Council of Common Interests.   The following year, Babarloi Bypass once again became the centre of a major protest. On July 23, 2026, a second sit-in was staged, this time not against the canal project but to demand the recovery of 27 missing children from Sindh, including the high-profile case of Priya Kumari. The protest was attended by lawyers, civil society activists, nationalist political workers, families of missing children and ordinary citizens. During the protest, the debate over the creation of new provinces, particularly from Karachi and federal circles, once again gained momentum. As a result, Sindh’s nationalist politics was once again seen aligning itself with anti-centre and anti-Punjab sentiments during the demonstration. Moreover, some separatist elements reportedly raised slogans such as “Pakistan Na Khappe” (We do not want Pakistan) and “Pakistan Murdabad” (Down with Pakistan) during the sit-in. However, unlike the previous year, the protest was brought to an end by the Sindh government with the assistance of police authorities. The Babarlo police, in their own account of the incident, accused the protesters of obstructing police vehicles, resorting to stone-pelting, and raising anti-Pakistan slogans during the standoff. According to reports, police took action to disperse the protesters, several individuals were arrested, and later cases were registered against 13 named persons and around 150 unidentified individuals under various provisions, including anti-terrorism laws. The manner in which the Sindh government dealt with this year’s sit-in suggests a different political approach compared to nationalist leaders. It indicates that the provincial government was reluctant to escalate tensions with either the Punjab government or the Pakistan Peoples Party’s political partners at the federal level. The Sindh government also appeared unwilling to allow the closure of Babarloi Bypass to turn the issue into a larger confrontation. The PPP leadership is aware that preventing child abductions and ensuring the recovery of missing children is primarily the responsibility of the Sindh government; neither Punjab nor the federal government can be held directly accountable for such matters. Therefore, before nationalist groups could create a situation that might politically embarrass the PPP at the federal level, the Sindh government moved to end the sit-in and restrict the influence of protest organisers. Whether the two major political parties have reached an understanding behind closed doors under the spirit of the Charter of Democracy remains a matter of speculation. However, the way both parties continue to engage in verbal confrontations during the Azad Jammu and Kashmir elections appears, to some observers, to be part of a broader political strategy.

Our discussion of Bulleh Shah in Part IV concluded with a question: Who are we when power can no longer name us? Bulleh Shah dismantled the identities imposed upon the human person by lineage, orthodoxy and social hierarchy. Waris Shah takes the inquiry into the institutions governing everyday life. He shows what happens when two human beings attempt to live according to the freedom Bulleh imagined. Heer is celebrated as Punjab’s greatest love story. To describe it merely as a romance, however, is to conceal its intellectual achievement. Earlier poets narrated the sufferings of Heer and Ranjha; Waris Shah’s classic poetic work Heeer (1766) placed an entire social order on trial. Shafqat Tanvir Mirza rightly observed that Waris treated the story through the “politics, economy and cultural values” lived by the people of his period. His poem contains a devastating criticism of poor governance, institutional corruption, religious exploitation, arrogance of the wealthy and misery of those without power. Love provides the narrative, but power determines its outcome. Waris Shah wrote against the background of eighteenth-century political disintegration. Invasions, weakening imperial authority, struggles among local forces and economic insecurity had destabilised Punjab. Waris Shah was not attached to a royal court capable of insulating him from ordinary suffering. His Heer therefore became more than a reconstruction of an old legend. It preserved Punjab’s speech, customs and collective memory while exposing the institutions through which privilege protected itself. Heer is central to this achievement because she is not a passive beloved. She recognises Ranjha, brings him into her father’s household as a herdsman, arranges opportunities to meet him and openly asserts her choice when the relationship is discovered. She possesses intelligence, desire and moral agency. Her freedom is tolerated only while it remains invisible and does not threaten the authority of the family. The moment Heer chooses her own future, affection turns into surveillance. Her body becomes the bearer of family honour, and marriage becomes the means through which that honour is restored. Heer does not ask permission to feel. She declares a commitment already formed through conscience and love. Her language is especially significant. She does not present Ranjha as an object she wishes to acquire. She has offered her own life and accepted responsibility for that choice. In a society where marriage joins families, properties and status groups, such self-determination is revolutionary. The dispute is not simply between one prospective husband and another. Ranjha represents Heer’s autonomous choice; the Kheras represent the settlement arranged for her by others. Her family treats marriage as a transaction carrying consequences for lineage, reputation and power. Heer insists upon treating it as a union requiring the will of the persons whose lives it determines. میں تاں منگ رنجھیٹے دی ہو چکی اساں منگ درگاہ تھیں لیا رانجھا Main tāṅ mang Ranjheṭe dī ho chukkī Asāṅ mang dargāh thīṅ liyā Rānjhā I have already been pledged to Ranjha; from the divine court itself I received him. اساں جان رانجھیٹے دے پیش کیتی لکھ کھیڑیاں نوں چا گھولدی ہے Asāṅ jān Ranjheṭe de pesh kītī Lakkh Kheṛiāṅ nūṅ chā gholdī hai I have laid my life before Ranjha; I would sacrifice a hundred thousand Kheras for him. This is the political economy hidden within the romance. Property is not limited to land, cattle and wealth. Patriarchal authority extends the idea of ownership to women. A daughter may be cherished as long as she accepts the future selected for her. Once she claims ownership of her own will, love within the family becomes conditional. Research on Heer similarly identifies the family, property, mosque, qazi, feudal hierarchy and ruling elite as interconnected institutions shaped by economic interest. Kaido is the most visible agent of this system, though he should not be dismissed as a solitary villain. He represents social surveillance: the resentful custodian of conformity who observes, reports and converts private happiness into public scandal. Power does not survive through rulers alone. It recruits relatives, neighbours and self-appointed guardians of morality who internalise its prohibitions and enforce them upon others. Kaido’s triumph begins when Heer and Ranjha’s love is no longer treated as a human relationship but as an offence against collective honour. The family then requires an institution capable of turning its demand into a lawful and religious command. The qazi enters at precisely this point. Waris Shah does not attack faith. He exposes the appropriation of faith by those serving property and patriarchy. The qazi is called because parental pressure has failed to secure Heer’s consent. Religious vocabulary is employed to present submission as virtue and resistance as sin. Heer answers him from within the moral tradition he claims to represent. She insists that genuine faith cannot be separated from truth, and that her union with Ranjha possesses a reality no ceremonial decree can erase. The surviving text presents an extended confrontation in which the qazi invokes authority while Heer asserts conscience and consent. Unable to persuade her, institutional power reveals its coercive core. The qazi threatens punishment and demands that she accept the Khera marriage. قاضی بنھ نکاح تے گھت ڈولی نال کھیڑیاں دے دِتی تور میاں Qāzī bannh nikāh te ghat ḍolī Nāl Kheṛiāṅ de dittī tor miyāṅ The qazi bound the marriage and placed her in the palanquin; she was sent away with the Kheras. ہیر کھیڑیاں نال نہ تُرے مولے پیا پِنڈ دے وچ ہے شور میاں Hīr Kheṛiāṅ nāl na ture, maulā piyā Piṇḍ de vich hai shor miyāṅ Heer would not willingly go with the Kheras; an uproar filled the village. کھیڑے گھن کے ہیر نوں رواں ہوئے جویں مال نوں لے وَگے چور میاں Kheṛe ghin ke Hīr nūṅ ravāṅ hoe Jiveṅ māl nūṅ lai vagge chor miyāṅ The Kheras took Heer and moved away, like thieves driving stolen cattle. The comparison is Waris Shah’s own and is among the most revealing images in the poem. The final line strips the ceremony of its respectable appearance. There has been a qazi, a marriage procession, jewellery, property and public