A few weeks ago, Maulana awoke in his apartment at the Parliamentary Lodges at 3 AM. What was on his mind? Perhaps he sensed that something significant was brewing—something that could position him at the center of Pakistani politics, maybe even secure him the presidency.

Maulana is a seasoned right-wing conservative politician with a small but loyal base of religiously inclined supporters. Once a major ally of the sitting government, his party has seen its significance wane in recent years, evident in the dwindling number of seats in Punjab and Sindh. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KPK) remained a stronghold for him—until a certain Khan entered the picture and disrupted everything.

After losing his seats in the 2019 elections and fading into obscurity, Maulana found unexpected fortune in the 2024 elections, thanks to a technical error with the numbering of the forms. He won!

However, his victory was short-lived. Maulana soon realized that this government had little regard for him. He retained a few votes and enjoyed the privileges of his lodge and ministerial status, but that was the extent of his influence.

Meanwhile, influential figures in powerful positions were playing their own game, aiming to implement changes to the judiciary through a constitutional amendment.

The opposition party responded fiercely: "No way! No more constitutional amendments!" Heated debates erupted on evening television, with both sides vying for public support.

Our friends, the Na Maloom Afraad, also entered the fray, playing their own version of Pokémon. Who would catch them all? If you were a National Assembly member with a wavering vote, they were coming for you and your family. A high-stakes game of cat and mouse ensued.

Suddenly, Maulana became the talk of the town. With a handful of votes under his control, both sides clamored for his attention.

Calls and offers flooded in. “We’ll make you Chairman of the Senate.” “No, we’ll elevate you to Chief Minister of Balochistan!” “Actually, why not become President?”

The idea of Maulana as President seemed absurd. How could this happen? It could happen because, when this government took power, the influential figures extended a proposition to the party of the people: “Support our Chief Justice, and in two and a half years, we’ll offer you the premiership.”

Naturally, the heir of the party eagerly accepted. The youngest Prime Minister of Pakistan? Who wouldn’t jump at that chance?

And so, Maulana became the date everyone wanted to take to prom. But he wasn’t going to make it easy; he played hard to get.

In the final week, every major political leader visited his residence multiple times a day. Maulana's home became the epicenter of Pakistani politics, with some days seeing him in agreement and other days witnessing fiery speeches where he denied any involvement with the government.

Whether he is a hero, an opportunist, or simply a politician, the true nature of Maulana's game will remain uncertain for some time to come. One thing is for sure: he has most definitely played us all.

I’m sure you all remember the time when Pakistan faced a severe electricity crisis, enduring hours of load shedding each day. What many of you may not know is that a few generous businessmen came to our rescue. This is the story of Mr. Bijli.

Mr. Bijli, a third-generation businessman who owns multiple textile mills and various other enterprises, was like any other Pakistani—frustrated by the lengthy shutdowns. One day, while socializing with friends at an elite club, he learned about the government’s desire to attract foreign investment to establish independent power plants.

The deal was straightforward: invest a few hundred million US dollars in setting up an independent power plant in Pakistan. However, due to the country's lack of foreign capital, no investors were willing to bring their money into the country.

That’s when Mr. Bijli had an epiphany. He realized he could save Pakistan. All the money his family had been illegally hoarding in foreign accounts for years could be put to use.

But what would he gain from this? So, Mr. Bijli gathered a few of his Chuddi Buddies, and they devised a plan. They would bring in billions of dollars of their hidden offshore wealth, but on one condition:

NO TAXES, FIXED RATES, PAYMENT IN U.S. DOLLARS.

It was the perfect business model. Thus, Mr. Bijli and his friends began establishing independent power plants in droves during the early to mid-2010s. Once operational, the money started flowing in like water.

Fast forward a few years: the dollar had doubled in value compared to the Pakistani Rupee, and Mr. Bijli and his friends were living the high life. Who could touch them?

Then one day, Mr. Bijli received an unexpected call for a meeting with the government. Not just him, but all his IPP (Independent Power Producer) buddies were summoned. What was going on? Were they about to make even more money?

They all anticipated the energy minister's arrival, but instead, the chief of the ISI walked in. Wait, what? Why was the ISI chief in a room full of greedy power moguls?

“These are your renegotiated contracts. Sign these. You’ve made enough money. If you don’t, we know everything about you and every sin you’ve ever committed. Are you sure you want that to be made public?”

And just like that, he walked out. Years of unprecedented profits came to a screeching halt. Mr. Bijli went home and took a bath in money.

The lesson? Make of it what you must.