When they walked hand in hand…

You know that feeling you get when you know someone is not in your reach but at the same time is more closer to you than everyone else? The feeling when someone slowly starts growing on you and you can do nothing but revel in that very feeling? Yes, exactly those feelings!

It was one of those beautiful nights. The moon was shinning proudly against the night sky in all it’s power and glory, the cold breeze was neither brutal nor gentle and there was still the feeling of peace in the bleeding, glowing, progressing, burning city. She asked him if he wanted to go for a walk and he held her hand in spontaneous agreement.

He was walking with his friends in the cold foreign city, smiles on the faces, laughter in the air, cold breeze brushing by when she brought him back. Took him to a whole new walk. A walk he had never experienced before. So far away, they were in two different worlds. She was sitting in her balcony with cup of coffee, thinking about the tales untold and blending in a cold silent night. And here he was walking on a busy road, with construction machines all around him. Yet when they held hands in their conversations their worlds collided and they become one, walking on the same road, together.

They took the road of expressive emotions decorated with words and conversed of tales untold. The silence between them got louder as they walked the unmarked roads, hands in hand, side by side.

They reveled in the stories of the feet that had walked the roads and emoted with the walls that were shagged. Sounds all around their worlds but the only sound they heard was that of the autumn leaves singing the song of silence.

And then in this walk they walked into the sunrise and that is where they met. Their world that they’d reprise.

That’s What Everyone Waited For!

It finally rained. Washing away the stains of innocent blood, the smell of crime, the pain and suffering in the air and the marks of dried tears. Looks like it brought a new ray of happiness with it. It is as if the rain brought out the hidden beauty of this city I particularly romanticize.

The constant pouring took away the little interest I had in my Dress For Success presentation and the Personal Management class. All I know is that rain in any other part of the world has never had such a strong effect on me. Not even New York.

I stared out of the window through out the class, completely mesmerized by the rain and the magic it carries. I’ve never been that anxious to get out of the class and hit the road before.

I Struggled through the crowded hallways full of soaking wet students, splashing water at each other and made it to the van area without being crushed to death. It reminded me of last year when I felt so lost among all the crazy campus crowd and stayed indoors until my dad came to pick me up.

The minute we hit the road, I found myself completely and utterly awe-struck and lost in the beautiful glowing scenery Karachi had become.

The half naked men walking the streets like they are part of some frikkin royal parade, the kids playing and dancing in the pools of water, the hydrophobic audience enjoying the scene from the roadside, a few teenagers throwing paper boats from the windows, a van full of campus students singing rain songs loudly enough for everyone to turn around and stare at them, mothers holding the hands of their little ones while helping them cross the road, Ishaqzaade roaming around hand in hand, giggling, blushing and looking helplessly in love and crazy drivers honking  their hearts out for the traffic to move. Such a chaotic setting but the most beautiful view I’d seen in a long time. Everyone looked contend. Full of joy. Despite the fact that they were stuck in traffic or their cars were broken or they were getting late for a meeting or a party, their faces were peaceful. It gave me such a homely feeling. Yes, it felt like home. This is home. This is reality. No matter how chaotic or brutal it is, its a part of who we are. Part of who I am.

Sigh. All worth the wait, don’t you think?

First you make us go all rain-deprived and then rain like you’re located in the most prime tropical location.

Such a tease, Karachi. Such a tease.

You’re fierce when you bleed and exquisite when you rain.

Such an inspiration, Karachi. Such an inspiration.

Why, oh why?

I’ve never seen a city bleed so openly, so fearlessly…

How can a city be so heartless and tolerant at the same time? How can it take so many lives and bleed endlessly, silently without complaining? The questions made me think of the people who are responsible for turning this land of diversity into a land stained with innocent blood.

‘Why can’t these people leave the city alone and go take care of their own lives? Like you and me, like normal people. Worry about the everyday mess that life is. Maybe about the dramatically rising petrol rates, shortage of electricity, the ups and downs in aloo piyaas kay daam, an annoying neighbor, a wife who wouldn’t stop whining, a flat tyre, a daughter who might be pregnant, a son who’s secretly smoking or a friend who might be dying of cancer?’ I said. And the only reply I got was helpless looks from my family.

I stood up and left the room shutting the door behind me, completely and utterly disgusted by the looks on my family’s faces.

The pity, the grief I’ve always had was all of a sudden replaced by anger. Something more stronger, filled with unknown hatred. Something that lead me to thinking about ways to bring change, for I know that this city needs more than just helpless stares.

Picture Courtesy: Kachee Goliyan