Category: 1. Pakistan

A major network of Indian intelligence agency, RAW, involved in terrorist activities in Karachi and other Pakistani cities has been busted, reported 24NewsHD TV channel. 

Addressing a news conference in Karachi on Saturday, Additional IG Counter Terrorism Department (CTD) Sindh Azad Khan and DIG Captain (retd) Ghulam Azfar Maheesar said the outcome was the result of a joint operation by the CTD Sindh and federal intelligence agencies.

AIG Azad Khan said they were able to pick the first lead while investigating murder of 45-year-old Abdur Rahman from Badin, who was a victim of target-killing on May 18 in Matli.

“During our investigation we found evidence of RAW’s involvement,” Azad Khan said and added “RAW provided massive funds for terrorism and target killings in Pakistan.”

The CTD officer said they also have the travel history of the accused.

“Abdur Rahman’s murder was orchestrated by an Indian agent identified as Sanjay Sanjeev Kumar, also known as Fauji. The suspect, believed to be operating from a Gulf country, allegedly hired Salman, a resident of Sheikhupura, to carry out the killing,” Azad Khan said.

The CTD officer said the arrest of suspects linked to the network has provided crucial evidence about RAW’s activities in Pakistan. Further investigations were under way to trace other members of the group and their local facilitators.

It was almost deja vu. We’d walked through this foul water before. Felt our way through barely recognisable streets from memory. When you live in a city like Karachi, it almost begins to feel normal. And yet, nothing can get you used to the fact that you — the privileged you, who has made a living out of writing on the city’s myriad governance issues — will be among the thousands stranded in water-clogged streets as you experience it in real time. Time and again.

In 2020, when Karachi witnessed one of its worst floods in decades — it can’t definitively be the worst because we like beating our own records — my dad and I walked back home, to Garden West, from I.I. Chundrigar Road in waist-high floodwaters.

At 55, my father was surprisingly surefooted with the stride of a mountain goat. He dragged me through the deluge, all the while making sure to keep an eye open for potholes, ragged stones and bare electric wires. He even cracked a joke here and there to ensure that the neurotransmitters in my brain remained balanced.

Five years on, as we relived the ordeal, wading through a mix of sewerage and rain water on the night of August 19, it suddenly dawned on me how drastically things had changed. The roles had reversed, and I hadn’t even realised it until we were in the thick of the storm.

Over 150mm of rain and Karachi had once again sunk. Why that happens every time and what the authorities are doing about it are questions all of us Karachiites ask every monsoon season. By now, we have come up with newer and better questions: Why does the mayor keep pretending all is well even as thousands of Karachi’s citizens remain stranded? Why can’t we plan better? Is it getting worse with each passing year? Is this the new normal?

Unfortunately, nothing has changed about the responses. It is a tale told and heard a gazillion times: “Jab zyada barish ati hay to zyada pani ata hay.”

I have been told I don’t learn from my mistakes (I get that from my dad), and so, living up to the reputation, I was at my workplace at 10am sharp on Tuesday. It had already begun raining before I logged onto my computer. The weather apps flashed red with warnings of rain that was going to last the entire day. But I was unfazed.

When are these predictions ever accurate? So I got to work, resolute and focused to file the story that was sitting in my drafts for days. At around 1pm, my boss came in and cautioned of an impending rainstorm. “Leave now,” he warned.

I brushed him off initially, but then it did start raining quite heavily. By 3pm, the sky was hidden behind thick and dark clouds, intimidating us. I immediately called my dad. “What’s the plan?” I asked him. He told me to stay put, his soothing voice devoid of any worry or anxiety.

And that’s exactly what I did. Even when nerves got the best of my colleagues, I remained calm. “Abba hain naa,” I thought to myself. You see, my father and I are partners in crime and despair. And in my head, it was supposed to stay the same forever; he would handle everything, he was invincible, and age, well, that was just a number.

Little did I know that this city was going to prove me painfully wrong. It gets to the strongest of us.

By 6pm, panic had started to settle into our building. There was a mess outside — a massive traffic jam, inundated roads and a downpour that just wouldn’t stop. And then, to make matters worse, the power went out. As the clock struck 8pm, the water levels on the main arteries had risen significantly, and it was pitch black.

I got a call. Father was downstairs. I was told to leave my bag upstairs and come with essentials — mobile phone and spectacles — tightly packed in a plastic bag. I did as told, and when I got to the main gate of our building, my lanky dad stood in drenched clothes and jeans folded up to his knees. He had already done some walking.

He was smiling his usual toothy smile, but the stress lines were evident on his face. There was no way to get home but to walk. He gripped my hand and we began the long journey ahead of us.

As we waded through the waters in front of Shaheen Complex, mixed with a bit of everything from rainwater to raw effluent, a feeling of disgust crept through me. Immediately, my father’s hand tightened around mine, this time not to give support but to take it as his foot got entangled in a floating plastic bag.

At 60, he was recently diagnosed with Carpal tunnel syndrome — a condition caused when the median nerve, in the carpal tunnel of the wrist, becomes compressed.

He kept losing his footing, almost falling twice if I hadn’t caught him in time. When he almost stepped on a bare electric wire, I didn’t hold back in scolding him, and henceforth made sure to make a small announcement every time I saw one.

These announcements continued even when a slope or steps came along the way. “Acha acha, baap ko mat sikhao,” he would say, laughing it off while also listening intently. At some instances, especially when we moved from a footpath to the main road, I took the first step to make sure that the ground beneath was solid, feeling with my feet where the eyes couldn’t see through the murky water.

In a few spots, I fumbled and almost fell headfirst into the water, but, miraculously, I ended up restoring my balance and that of my father. Later at night, I saw how these instances had left red scars on my feet.

In other places, when I faltered, strangers, who were probably as vulnerable as we were in that moment, signalled an open manhole, a leaking drain or a rocky crater. Even when nothing was said, their presence alone was comforting.

We were all one, abandoned in our struggle against a force we had no control over. A man dragging his wife on a motorcycle through the inundated streets. A group of chador-clad women walking back home, cursing at every passing car that splashed water on them. A father and daughter, walking almost two hours to get home, otherwise a 20-minute drive.

When we finally got to the road opposite the Pearl Continental Hotel, the water on the roads receded from our waists down to our toes. At first, we tried to stop a rickshaw, but every one of them was occupied. Some stopped in a frenzy, not to give us a ride, but to ask for directions.

So we continued our trek. There were moments when I would walk fast, too fast for dad to keep pace. I could see him heaving, out of breath, but not saying anything, and so I would slow down, the same way he did five years ago.

After walking for 10 more minutes, we stopped outside a shut-down bank along the route to take shelter under a leaky makeshift shed. By then, the rain was accompanied by gusts of strong wind, and so a break was necessary. We stood there, both looking intently at the road and the cars passing by, trying to gauge the velocity of the rain droplets.

Suddenly, a man, attired in the uniform of a security guard, walked up to us. “Sir, ma’am, please take our seats,” he offered in the sweetest tone. We refused politely, but he was so insistent that my father had to give in. A few minutes later, he brought two glasses of water. It was later that I realised how this small act of kindness helped dad cover a long distance on foot.

To think of it, he understood it before I did — I was the one in charge now; looking out for potholes, stones, and bare electric wires, cracking a joke now and then, and criticising the administration that was nowhere to be seen.

When we finally reached the Abdullah Shah Ghazi shrine — which is just a few kilometres from my current residence — we stopped. I was tired and worn out. So was he, but he tried his best not to show it. We decided to get a ride home. Fortunately, we were lucky to find one.

Had my father been in the lead, he would have made sure that both of us walked all the way, that he didn’t show his fatigue to me, and that he reclaimed his title of being the saviour for the umpteenth time. I may be his daughter, but I am not him, no matter how much we resemble, both physically and in personality.

“Baap to baap hi hota hai,” he joked later that night at the dinner table when I shared details of the journey with my family. And while everyone giggled, I couldn’t help but feel the invisible weight of living in a city where everything changes but nothing changes.

And this isn’t just about me or my dad. It is about the sister who called me a dozen times, worried sick, because she couldn’t reach my 25-year-old colleague. It is about the stranded Foodpanda rider I saw near Teen Talwar. It is about my friend whose newly bought car, a white Alto, was submerged in water on Sharea Faisal. It is also about our maid who didn’t have electricity for nearly two days.

It is about us, the citizens of Karachi, called ‘resilient’ every year, but fast running out of resilience … and hope.

Chief of Army Staff (COAS) Field Marshal Asim Munir visited Turbat and reaffirmed the military’s unwavering support for initiatives aimed at improving Balochistan’s socio-economic conditions, the military’s media wing said on Saturday.

The government has repeatedly voiced its commitment to the development of Balochistan — a province with severe infrastructure deficits, recurring protests and a bleak law and order situation. In June, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif termed it one of the top priorities.

Field Marshal Munir interacted with Balochistan Chief Minister Sarfraz Bugti and representatives of the Turbat civil administration during his visit, according to a press release from Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR).

“The visit aimed to review the prevailing security situation, assess development initiatives, and reinforce coordination between military and civil institutions for the stability and prosperity of Balochistan,” the statement read.

During his interaction with the Turbat administration’s representatives, the army chief “reaffirmed unwavering support for all initiatives aimed at improving the southern Balochistan’s socio-economic development”.

COAS Munir emphasised the significance of joint civil-military efforts in addressing the challenges faced by the people of Balochistan. He also highlighted the need for good governance, infrastructure development, and the importance of inclusive, people-centric progress, the ISPR said.

The field marshal reiterated the army’s resolve to “stand shoulder to shoulder with the people of Balochistan in their pursuit of peace, prosperity and sustainable development”.

He was also given a comprehensive briefing on the province’s security dynamics, including threat perspective and successful operations against Fitna al Hindustan, ongoing development projects, and efforts to enhance socio-economic conditions in southern Balochistan.

The term ‘Fitna al Hindu­stan’ is a phrase coined by Pakistan’s military, aimed at framing India’s alleged role in terrorism as a deliberate destabilisation strategy, potentially to galvanise domestic support.

During his interaction with troops, COAS Munir “appreciated their high morale, operational readiness, and unflinching commitment to safeguarding national sovereignty”. He hailed their role in ensuring peace and stability in the region under challenging circumstances.

Upon his arrival, the army chief was received by the Balochistan corps commander.

Addressing the Pakistan Minerals Investment Forum 2025 in April, COAS Munir said Pakistan’s goal was to create manpower, experts and human resources for the mineral sector, adding that economic security has emerged as an important component of national security.

He said the military would ensure a robust security framework and proactive measures to protect the interests and confidence of Pakistan’s partners and investors in Balochistan.

Under its provincial budget for the fiscal year 2025-2026, the Balochistan government has allocated Rs249.50 billion for the Annual Development Plan (ADP) and has decided to launch several development projects under the public-private partnership model.

Last month, the Balochistan cabinet approved a series of security enhancements, economic initiatives and public welfare projects, including the establishment of new police stations and a major subsidy for farmers.

• Dar becomes first Pakistani FM to visit Bangladesh in 13 years. 
• FM Dar visiting Bangladesh from Aug 23 to 24 on Dhaka’s invitation.
• DPM to meet Bangladesh’s Chief Adviser Muhammad Yunus: FO
  

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Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar landed in Bangladesh on Saturday, beginning the first official visit by a Pakistani foreign minister to Dhaka in 13 years.

“The visit is a significant milestone in Pakistan-Bangladesh relations as a Pakistani Foreign Minister is visiting Bangladesh after a gap of around 13 years,” the Foreign Office said in a statement.

DPM Dar will hold important meetings with Bangladeshi leaders during his time in Dhaka. 

FM Dar’s visit, from August 23 to August 24, comes in response to the invitation of the Government of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh, and will see the Pakistani dignitary meeting the country’s Chief Adviser Professor Muhammad Yunus, and Adviser for Foreign Affairs Touhid Hossain.

Upon landing, FM Dar was received at the airport by Ambassador Asad Alam Siam, Foreign Secretary of Bangladesh, along side Pakistan’s High Commissioner to Bangladesh,Imran Haider and other senior Bangladeshi officials.

“The whole range of bilateral relations and a number of regional and international issues will be discussed during these meetings,” the FO added.

FM Dar, is the most senior Pakistani official to visit Dhaka since 2012, with Islamabad calling it a “significant milestone in Pakistan-Bangladesh relations”.

During his visit, the two countries are expected to sign several agreements including on trade on Sunday (tomorrow).

The foreign minister’s visit comes against the backdrop of warming ties between Islamabad and Dhaka ever since the ouster of PM Hasina — who fled to India — after a mass student-led uprising.

Since then, Pakistan and Bangladesh began sea trade last year, expanding government-to-government commerce in February. Meanwhile, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif has also held several interactions with Bangladesh’s Yunus.

Pakistan’s Commerce Minister Jam Kamal Khan held talks Thursday in Dhaka, where he agreed to set up joint commissions to boost trade and investment.

A day earlier, top military commanders from both nations also met in Pakistan.

Last month, Islamabad and Dhaka reached a major diplomatic breakthrough by agreeing in principle to grant visa-free entry to holders of diplomatic and official passports.

The agreement came during a high-level meeting between Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi and Bangladesh’s Home Minister Lieutenant General (retd) Jahangir Alam Chowdhury in Dhaka.

Earlier in April, Pakistan and Bangladesh welcomed the launch of direct shipping between Karachi and Chittagong and underscored the need to resume direct air links.

The development came during the 6th round of Foreign Secretary Level Consultations (FSLC) held in Dhaka on April 17. Both sides also expressed satisfaction over the progress made in easing travel and visa facilitation.

The talks, commencing after a hiatus of 15 years, were led by the Foreign Secretary of Pakistan Amna Baloch and Bangladesh’s Foreign Secretary Jashim Uddin, and were held in a cordial atmosphere and reflected a shared resolve to revitalise bilateral engagement, the statement mentioned. 

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— With additional input from AFP