Pakistan is a realm cursed by the living dead – not the lumbering ghouls of cheap reels, but a more insidious scourge. These are zombies – political, economic, institutional – fattened on the rancid grift of power and privilege. The nation buckles under dynastic titans, profiteering vultures, and an army enforcing this debilitating mafia’s writ. A predatory elite and a brutish military drain every drop of vitality from the people to perpetuate their wretched existence, leaving in their wake a withered husk of a nation.

The political landscape is a Jurassic Park of fossilized ambition. The PMLN and PPP, those dynastic relics of the Sharif and Bhutto lineages, exist not to serve but to plunder. To Western donors and multilateral overlords – their political paymasters – they don silk gloves, mouthing liberal pieties about democracy and progress, all while pocketing the aid. At home, the mask slips: their purpose is a crude pantomime of press conferences and platitudes while their fists remain buried in the till, crushing dissent with primal, draconian zeal. The army, that self- anointed fate arbiter, doubles as the muscle for this racketeering syndicate, propping them up. It turns a nation into a fiefdom where hope is a privilege the masses cannot afford.

The army is no mere accomplice. It’s the puppet master; it’s the boot throttling Pakistan’s throat for most of the nation’s life. A colonial ghost in khaki, it apes the British Raj’s scorn for the masses it lords over, seeing not citizens but serfs to be crushed. This........

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