Nonsensical and sometimes not-so-nonsensical rants about what may or may not be going through my head. Try to liberalize your canvas of interpretation when reading these posts - you will go far...

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Karachi bleeds

My city is bleeding yet again. Like a silent spectator, I watch it from the sidelines. I watch the city that is venomously torn and battered by the wrath and carelessness of certain people. The gashed wounds, the blood stained visage, the carcass-like state of my beloved are all too vivid in front of my eyes. I feel like a mother who is listening to her child’s last incoherent words before he finally succumbs to the last stages of a fatal illness. I feel like a vulnerable and helpless child who doesn’t know where he will go after his guardian, his provider is brutally murdered. I feel like the doctor who can put her fingers on a dying, emaciated patient’s pulse and feel their heartbeats synchronize, yet cannot ignore his heart’s futile struggle to keep the blood pumping.

I remember reading a line somewhere; ‘This is Karachi. We have a good time while we can, ‘cause tomorrow we might not be so lucky.’ A viewpoint that triggered a plethora of emotions inside me and one that took the phrase, stream of consciousness, to new levels. Living in Karachi certainly hasn’t been the clich├ęd ‘walk in a park.’ In fact, it would be more apt to say, it has been almost, ‘a frantic scurry in a battlefield.’ We wake up in the morning and read the headlines only to be baffled over whether this city will finally implode or not; whether we will manage to make it through the day or not. The uncertainty and contingency surrounding life in Karachi can most certainly be exhaustive.

But in spite of all the ambivalence, Karachiites share an assurance of birthright. And it is perhaps this conviction of ownership that best defines the contemporary citizen of this distraught city. It is perhaps this love for its soil that will save Karachi from the ravages of circumstances and the brutality of its enemies. It is perhaps futile to be optimistic in the eye of a storm, but it is only what my city has taught me – to hope for the best when no hope remains; to give it my best shot, no matter what the odds; to come out alive and victorious when the world thinks you've breathed your last.

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