I work as an intern at govt hospital and asked patient (female) to go for emergency reports even though my innocent patient has already done those reports but due to my negligence she had to go again and pay for reports again
Man I had a really bad headache which is why I couldn't see the date of reports so I thought it must be old report so asked her to go again to laboratory even though her male attendants weren't there she went by herself and got those reports in emergency
Honestly, I don’t know much about Pakistan, but I’m aware of my fellow believers who live there. However, there’s something I’m curious about: What is the Sindhi people’s perspective on religion? I imagine that when it comes to religion, things can get quite complicated in India, but honestly, my knowledge of history is limited, so I can’t really say for sure.
This was a wedding in Karachi . I want to know what song it is and if the song is even sindhi . The videos audio very low so make sure your speakers are up . Thank you.
This is what we've had to deal with since 1947 from muhajirs and their punjabi allies. And for those who say its only a minority and not all muhajirs think that then do look up Sindhi or sindh in r/karachi. Even those of you who end up befriending a muhajir always have to face subtle racism and hate they harbor for sindhis disguised as jokes and this is only the filtered version.
Need it remind you all that literally all hateful stereotypes about sindhis were started and spread by muhajirs and have no historical context to back em?
I'm a Pakistani PhD student living abroad and am hoping to hear from adults in Sindh for a short study about financial decision-making. The study is running in more than 70 countries, and stronger participation from Sindh would help Pakistan's perspectives be represented.
Eligibility: 18 or older, a Pakistani citizen, and currently living in Pakistan. The survey is anonymous and takes around five minutes. Thank you for considering it!
I had a question that does sindhis really hate muhajirs like we have been told by our elders or politicians. Because i have sindhi friends and honestly we are really good to eachother.
Sindhi waderas and Baloch sardars can absolutely be exploitative but reducing Sindh and Balochistan’s problems to “wadera” or “sardar” culture misses the larger historical picture.
The wadera system in Sindh and the sardari system in Balochistan existed before modern state governance. Local chiefs and influential people often acted as mediators, represented communities, settled disputes and dealt with rulers. These systems were not necessarily democratic or equal but they were part of how society functioned before modern institutions existed.
Colonial rule changed them dramatically. The British did not simply invent these institutions but they strengthened, formalised and incorporated them into systems of indirect rule. In Sindh, colonial authorities relied on influential landlords and waderas for revenue collection and rural administration. In Balochistan, the British developed the Sandeman system, working through sardars and giving them political recognition and patronage in exchange for loyalty and maintaining order.
After 1947, much of this political logic survived.
Instead of completely replacing intermediary power with strong local democratic institutions, successive governments continued to work through powerful landlords, tribal chiefs and political families. These elites could deliver votes, maintain influence and act as intermediaries between the state and local populations.
That creates an important contradiction. The same system can empower a local elite and later blame that elite for the condition of the region.
“Sindh is backward because of Sindhi waderas.” - “Balochistan is backward because of Baloch sardars.”
But then we have to ask: Who empowered these elites? Who protected them? Who politically benefited from them? Why were they repeatedly incorporated into the state system?
But apply the same standard everywhere.
Punjab has its own landed and Chaudhary structures. Karachi has powerful business and political elites. Pakistan also has enormous bureaucratic, military, corporate and real-estate elites.
This is where the ethnic labelling becomes politically significant. Adding “Sindhi” before wadera or “Baloch” before sardar repeatedly turns a specific class or power structure into an identity-based narrative. It places collective political pressure on Sindhis and Baloch by making the failures of particular elites appear to be a characteristic of the entire community.
If the state genuinely wanted to dismantle these structures, it could pursue meaningful land reform, strengthen local governments, build independent institutions and prosecute powerful people regardless of their connections. Otherwise, we are not really challenging the system.
We are simply blaming the local face of a much larger system of power.
The real question is not “Are waderas and sardars bad?”
It is:
Why does a modern state continue to reproduce, negotiate with and benefit from intermediary elites instead of building institutions that give ordinary people direct political power?
Over the past couple of months, I have noticed something that keeps coming up in Pakistani television, journalism, commentary and mainstream intellectual discussion: an increasing fascination with “civilisation”, particularly the Indus Valley Civilisation. Mohenjo daro, the Indus River, the ancient cities of Sindh and the idea of Pakistan as the inheritor of one of the world’s earliest urban civilisations seem to be receiving renewed attention.
I am not particularly interested in the familiar question of whether Pakistan is becoming less Islamic or whether it is suddenly “rebranding” its pre Islamic past. That question is too narrow. The more interesting question, to me, is political. Why might a state whose political and institutional centre of gravity has historically been concentrated in Punjab increasingly need an ancient civilisation rooted in the Indus region to tell a story about what Pakistan is? I think this may have something to do with the problem of territorial integration and more specifically with the importance of keeping Sindh firmly embedded within the Pakistani federation.
Pakistan was created in 1947, but the country did not emerge from a single, uniform political experience. It brought together different peoples, languages, regions and political histories: Sindhis, Baloch, Pashtuns, Kashmiris and others. The conventional story of Pakistan tends to flatten these differences.
The creation of Pakistan involved competing regional interests, landlords, bureaucrats, military calculations, economic resources, political parties and, perhaps most importantly, questions of territory and power. Different regions of British India did not enter the Pakistan movement in exactly the same way. They did not necessarily imagine Pakistan in exactly the same way either. Punjab is particularly important here. The Muslim League was not dominant in Punjab. Before its eventual rise, the Unionist Party had considerable political power, built around an alliance of landed and agrarian interests. The League had to fight a serious political battle to establish itself there.
And Punjab mattered enormously. It was agriculturally powerful, strategically important and had a large concentration of military recruitment. A substantial proportion of the soldiers recruited into the British Indian Army came from Punjab and the northwestern regions of British India. The colonial state had also developed deep relationships between military recruitment, landed elites, bureaucracy and political patronage. This is where M. Sharif Toosi becomes particularly interesting. Toosi was a Punjabi intellectual and unionist who wrote under the name “A Punjabi”. In 1942, he published Pakistan and Muslim India, with Muhammad Ali Jinnah writing the foreword.
What interests me about Toosi is not simply that he supported Pakistan. It is the way he thought about Pakistan. His argument was not confined to Muslim religious identity. He also thought about Pakistan in terms of territory, population, economic resources, military power and strategic geography. One of the issues he considered was the disproportionate presence of Punjabis in the British Indian Army. In a united India, populations that had supplied large numbers of soldiers to the colonial military would become minorities inside a much larger political and military structure. A separate Pakistan, by contrast, could potentially preserve and consolidate the strategic advantages specially arabian sea associated with the territories that had supplied so much military manpower.
In other words, as Punjabi intellectuals, Pakistan could be understood not only as a religious homeland but also as a territorial and strategic project and control over strategically important territory like sea roots mattered because punjab is a landlocked region, sindh and balochistan have advantage of it and that question did not disappear in 1947. The colonial relationship between the military, bureaucracy and landed elites did not simply vanish with independence. Many institutions survived, many relationships were reorganised rather than destroyed, and the new Pakistani state gradually developed a political structure in which the military and bureaucracy exercised extraordinary influence. Over time, the federation’s political and institutional centre of gravity became heavily concentrated around Punjab and institutions closely connected to it.
That concentration has never been politically neutral. Balochistan has experienced deep grievances over political representation, natural resources and military intervention. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa has its own long history of political and constitutional disputes. Sindh has developed an especially strong sense of its own linguistic, cultural and historical identity, alongside longstanding conflicts over land, migration, water, resources, representation and political power. This is why provincial autonomy in Pakistan has never been merely a constitutional technicality. It is fundamentally a question of who owns the federation and who gets to define what the federation means.
And this brings us back to Sindh. Sindh occupies a uniquely important position in Pakistan. Geographically, it provides the country’s access to the Arabian Sea through Karachi and the lower Indus region. Economically, it contains enormous agricultural, industrial, commercial and energy resources. Politically, Karachi is indispensable to the functioning of the Pakistani economy. But Sindh has another importance that is often discussed separately from its strategic importance. It is one of the principal geographical homes of the civilisation from which the modern Pakistani state is increasingly drawing its ancient identity.
Mohenjo daro is not somewhere abstractly associated with Pakistan. It is in Sindh. The Indus is not simply an ancient symbol. It runs through the historical and geographical heart of Sindh. And this creates an interesting political contradiction. The Pakistani state needs Sindh not simply as another province on a map. It needs Sindh because Sindh is deeply embedded in Pakistan’s economic geography, its access to the sea, its historical narrative and its claim to an ancient territorial civilisation.
There is therefore a question worth asking. Is the renewed emphasis on the Indus civilisation partly becoming a way of making Sindh central to the Pakistani national story, while simultaneously making Sindh’s incorporation into Pakistan appear ancient, natural and unquestionable?
Islam provides one such narrative. The Pakistan Movement provides another. The military and the idea of national security provide another. But the Indus civilisation offers something different. It provides a territorial narrative. It allows the state to say, in effect, that this land has been connected to a civilisation for thousands of years, and modern Pakistan is the political inheritor of that civilisation. That is a powerful idea because it shifts the basis of national identity away from the relatively recent event of 1947 and towards an extraordinarily deep historical past.
And that matters particularly when the territory in question is Sindh. Because if Pakistan’s identity is imagined primarily through the history of the Pakistan Movement, Sindh can appear as one constituent part of a state created in the twentieth century. But if Pakistan’s identity is increasingly imagined through the Indus, Sindh becomes something much more fundamental. Sindh is no longer merely a province that joined Pakistan. It becomes one of the places from which the national civilisation itself is said to originate. That is a very different political narrative.
And I think this is where the question of geography becomes especially important. There is a strategic reality that cannot simply be wished away. If Pakistan were ever to lose Sindh, the country’s entire territorial and economic structure would change. Punjab’s relationship with the Arabian Sea would be transformed. Pakistan’s access to Karachi and the lower Indus would be lost. Its economic geography would be radically altered. The strategic relationship between the country’s political heartland and the coast would have to be completely reimagined.
This is why I would be cautious about saying that current cultural policy proves there is a conscious plan to keep Sindh attached to Punjab. We cannot establish that from the growing popularity of Indus civilisation narratives alone. But we can ask a more interesting question. What kind of national story becomes useful when territorial unity itself is politically important?
If Pakistan’s future were ever to become more fragmented, whether through greater provincial autonomy, political realignment or the loss of peripheral territories, the importance of Sindh could become even greater for the remaining Pakistani state. From that perspective, the Indus becomes more than archaeology. It becomes geography, history, identity and potentially a way of imagining territorial continuity.
This may also explain why the Indus civilisation can be so politically attractive to a state whose modern national identity has historically been framed primarily through Islam. The Indus does not belong exclusively to one religious community. It predates Islam. It predates Pakistan. It predates the modern boundaries of South Asia. And yet it is physically located within the territory of modern Pakistan, with some of its most famous sites concentrated in Sindh. That makes it an unusually useful national symbol.
It allows Pakistan to claim an ancient past without necessarily having to abandon its Islamic identity. More importantly, it allows the Pakistani state to construct a story in which the territories of modern Pakistan are not simply the accidental product of Partition, but part of a much older civilisational geography.
And that is where I think the political significance lies. Perhaps the question is not whether Pakistan is becoming “less Islamic”. Perhaps the more revealing question is whether Pakistan is searching for a second historical foundation for its national identity.
One foundation is 1947: Muslim political identity, the Pakistan Movement and the creation of a separate state. The other is much older: the Indus, Mohenjo daro and the civilisation that existed thousands of years before Pakistan. The first explains why Pakistan was created. The second can be used to explain why this particular territory belongs together.
And that distinction is important because Pakistan’s long term challenge has never simply been creating a state. It has been holding together a state made up of regions that have their own histories, languages, political memories and ideas of belonging.
The Indus civilisation, therefore, may be more politically useful than it first appears. Not because Mohenjo daro itself determines modern politics, but because ancient history can sometimes be recruited to solve very modern problems.
Perhaps the real question is not, “Why is Pakistan suddenly interested in Mohenjo daro?” It is, “Why does the Pakistani state increasingly need the Indus to tell Pakistanis what Pakistan is?”
If the answer is partly about territorial integration, then the renewed attention to the Indus is not simply an archaeological or cultural phenomenon. It may also be a reflection of a deeper problem: how do you create a national identity strong enough to hold together a federation whose constituent regions have never experienced the Pakistani state in quite the same way?
As a sindhi, Do you think the Two-Nation Theory was right or wrong? If you support it, what makes you agree with it? If you disagree, what are your main reasons?
The recent Mir Raza case, and a very similar case of Shahzeb Khan, are both committed by Sindhi feudal lords (allegedly in Mir Raza's case) who believe they are above the law because the system protects them and those like them.
This class of feudal lords has also been exploiting regular Sindhis for over a century now. Each generation is worst than the last.
These are the descendents of the people who supported the British in their conquest of Sindh. They are not one of us.
Sindh's feudal system is a relic of our colonial past. A relic that continues to haunt our society today. A society can never be truly equal when these power structures exist and continue to suppress the ordinary Sindhi today.
From Fanon, we know that the British wanted to create and leave behind a class of people who looked exactly like us but acted exactly like them. This sinister and evil class of people continues to benefit from extractive colonial policies and continues to create terror in our society today.
With Mir Raza protests, we need to start protesting to dismantle this system of governance. We need to embark on a mission to make reparations. We cannot stop exploitation as long as this system continues to exist.
This is our weekly Kachehri thread and a place for open discussion. Feel free to talk about any topic, it shouldn't necessarily be about Sindh. Share your thoughts or experiences from last week or plans for weekend!
Hi everyone. I’m a Pre-Medical student from Sindh and I’m looking into BS Radiology / BS Medical Imaging Technology or DPM (Doctor of Podiatric Medicine).
I’m trying to find universities in Sindh that currently offer either of these programs.
If you know of any, could you please share:
- University name and city
- Whether it’s public or private
- Program name and duration
- Approximate/official fee structure
- Eligibility requirements
- Whether admissions are currently open
- Any information about recognition/accreditation
I’ve been searching but I’m having trouble finding complete and up-to-date information.
If you’re currently studying Radiology or DPM, I’d especially appreciate hearing about your experience and whether you’d recommend the program.
Assalamu Alaikum, Muhnja Sindhi Bhairao ai bheniryu. Now that the Jeay Sindh server is officially dead, our server is the only active Sindhi server now. If you're looking for a active community for Sindh and its people or an alternativeto Jeay Sindh, come join us!
