So what are Gujaratis like?’’ teases a tall, Byronic sophomore. ‘‘What about you? You know what they say about Biharis, don’t you?’’ intervenes his mate, a fellow Karachi lad of Gujarati origin. Tell us anyway, they both then demand of their Indian visitor, and a lively demonstration of the joys of ethnic assortment follows.At the Lahore University of Management Sciences, Pakistan’s premier business school, they come from everywhere. Five students, four boys and a girl, gather at one end of a long cafe table to make sense of their country and their place in the world.They begin from the smallest concentric circles. Look around at the new batch. Thanks to a national outreach programme, there are more Pathans on campus this year, for instance. The tuition fee, at Rs 1.8 lakh Pakistani rupees, is steep but scholarships have widened access to this private college. And roughly half of all students are girls.Within this gender, class and ethnic mix, different views are represented. There is the liberal set—it’s Friday, they remind you, that’s why you see so few girls in jeans today. But there are also the more conservative students, girls in burqas and men with beards. But don’t seek too many left-wingers here, smiles the quietest among them. There is a communist on campus, but Pakistan has never had a strong tradition of leftist thought. Two years into their business administration programmes, all five are seeking jobs in the private sector.The civil services still compel candidates to slog long and hard to clear the entrance exams, but it’s a family thing, children of bureaucrats are more inclined in that direction. The corporate world is changing, multinationals are offering jobs and professionalism to young graduates. Even to women—after all, some are now CEOs of leading MNCs.And politics? They don’t even vote. The only politician who inspires them is Imran Khan—don’t dismiss his appeal, every young professional this correspondent spoke to echoed the sentiment. But does our vote matter, they plead. In a perfect world, their perfect politician would bear resemblance to Bill Clinton.The world, alas, is not perfect today. It refuses to accommodate them, it does not even care to glean differences among them. In the new world order, they say, all of them are being tarred with the same brush. ‘‘Our image has gone down. Each one of us is suspected to be a fundamentalist or a terrorist,’’ says the quiet one. ‘‘I got accepted in an American university, I got my I-20. But because of new FBI regulations it was delayed.’’ Disgusted, he has junked any plans to try again. Then they laugh, ‘You tell us, do we look like terrorists?’.The image of Pakistanis in Hindi films also unnerves them. Sunny Deol is not exactly the most popular actor in these parts, they laugh. (That honour goes to Shah Rukh Khan.) Actually, it is not so simple, says one of the Karachi lads. The anti-Pakistan sentiment in popular Indian cinema is understandable—what bothers is that terrorist and Muslim identities are so often collapsed, for instance in Fiza.Other aspects of Indian life beguile. The IT boom elicits comparisons and extracts all their business acumen. ‘‘Indians can undercut the market. Pakistanis can’t. India can shift its comparative advantage.’’But beginnings are being made, Bill Gates has committed $7 billion over the next four years to the development of the IT industry. Call centres are springing up around Karachi. India’s experiment with land reforms too is keenly monitored. Because, they reckon, all of Pakistan’s ills can be traced to feudalism.Amidst this consensus, a disagreement suddenly breaks out. How often do they party? Once every two months, shrugs one, shyly adding that even then it nags her that work remains to be done. Nah, yells her pal, we majorly party every two months, but we party at least every two weeks.But for now, there’s studying to finish. Examinations are on at LUMS, and Pakistan’s Generation Next has its eye set firmly on the future.
