The Brothel at PIMS Gate

The Brothel at PIMS Gate

A Tale of Exploitation, Police Patronage, and a Nation’s Silent Conscience

The Capital of Illusions

Islamabad—the capital of Pakistan.
A city celebrated for its manicured parks, the majestic Faisal Mosque, the serene Margalla Hills, and the polished corridors of power. A city where law and order gleam in books, yet when those books are opened, the pages reveal a truth so vile it cuts through the heart and leaves the soul bleeding.

A Hospital, A Marketplace

This is not the story of a forgotten slum or a red-light alley.
This is the story of the front gate of Pakistan Institute of Medical Sciences—PIMS Hospital. A place meant to heal the sick, where patients arrive clinging to hope. Yet, just outside its entrance, a grotesque marketplace emerges every night—a marketplace of flesh.

As darkness falls, deals are struck, whispers exchanged, and prices negotiated. Police officers, sworn to protect the law, stand as silent guardians of this trade. Their silence is purchased, their pockets lined with bribes, while dignity is publicly auctioned.

The Cruel Irony

Picture this:
A cancer patient clinging to life.
A man with a failing heart.
A mother rushing with her dying child.

What greets them first? Not compassion. Not healing. But the open bazaar of shame.

Can there be a greater tragedy for a society than to let the gate of its largest hospital double as the entrance to a brothel?

Hypocrisy in Power

Rulers deliver grand speeches.
Bureaucrats draft detailed reports.
Police boast of their efficiency in press conferences.
NGOs busy themselves with funding proposals.

And yet, all remain blind to the filth festering at the very heart of the capital. Hypocrisy has never been so shamelessly dressed in authority.

Death Inside, Flesh Outside

Sometimes, it feels as if Pakistanis have learned to seek spectacle even in the shadow of death.

Inside PIMS, patients wrestle with their final breaths.
Outside, bodies are sold like commodities.

Two parallel tragedies unfold side by side—together, forming a satire so cruel that it ridicules our entire civilization.

Who Is Guilty?

Does the police not know? Do administrators not see? Of course, they do.

But here, law is rented by the hour. Protection is auctioned off to the highest bidder. Corruption has countless faces—and every face is stained with the blood of human dignity.

A Test of National Honor

This is not merely a moral issue. It is a question of national honor.

If the disgrace at PIMS Gate is not cleansed, history will bury Pakistan alongside nations that tolerated corruption, ignored immorality, and decayed into irrelevance.

The Question We Cannot Escape

We must decide, today:
Is the gate of PIMS reserved for patients seeking healing, or will it remain the doorway to a permanent brothel?

This is the ultimate test of our conscience. And if we fail, the future will carve into our graves:

“They were the people who saw bodies being sold at the gates of their largest hospital—and stayed silent.”

–Islamabad

Humbly Submitted: Aasi, Islamabad