I’ll tell you what it feels like. It feels like another bloody promise. Bloody. Bloody. Bang bang. Shot dead. This is the promise.
When I woke up in the morning to see my screen flashing the news of the PTI leader Zahra Hussain, being shot dead in Karachi, I felt no words, nothing is going to change. She is dead. The woman was shot dead.
Let’s rewind a bit. Take Friday. A bomb blows up 13 people in a masjid. A masjid. There is blood on the floor and there is blood everywhere. Misery. Hatred. Blood. I see the future now.
Kyun nahi ye khoon rukta? When will this end? Or does it end with us?
Head down in despair and shame. I’m sorry. No words can comfort. Bhai boht ho gaya. Boht zayada hogaya hai. And where ever you bleeding pieces of crap of murderers are - know this that you’re gonna rot, if not today phir kal tu zaroor.
“Pata nahi kyun, Pata nahi kyun, mera dil yeh keh raha hai k parson shaam ko hum sub shukranay k nafal parh rahay hongay aur Naya Pakistan ka jashaan manaenge In Sha Allah” - Imran Khan
P.S. Jo bhi ho, hum ne koshish ki aur kartay rahay gain. Ye hamara mulk hai. Aur hum? Hum hai iskay pasbaan.
Thursday and Friday are officially off in the country. There is just one thing on in our minds, on our tongues and in our discussions: the elections.
The city is filled with balconies and rooftops supporting the fluttering flags of the their respective beloved political party. It is intense, it is passionate and yet it is scary.
I have a feeling that PML-N will sweep the elections but I shudder to think that. I need - we need PTI to win. We want change.
Nearly all the people I know are rooting and voting for PTI. I would too if only I had gotten my files to register myself as a voter, in time. Alas, I shall not let that happen again. But that’s beside the point. The point is, it’s high time for us to change. For us to stand up, for us to be better humans, better Pakistanis. Time for Naya Pakistan.
Let’s see what the big days have in store for us. It’s been bloody lately. Maybe, the dawn is going to break after all.
Pakistani Britain-based artist, Khaver
h 21 x 12 x 10 cm
This thing is a piece of beauty.
Looking out by lukexmartin on Flickr.
I don’t know what this art of creating such patterns through the wall are called but they always manage to make me think of Shalimaar Gardens, Lahore and the walls of houses in Peshawar.
Karachi me baarish? Lovely news I heard today! Since lately it has been dark and too many grey clouds. Guess this was the pretty silver lining. You Karachiites there? Having acha khasa fun?
I shall now retire to think of the wet pavements and the petrichor therein.
Today’s afternoon was spent in a Rickshaw in the city’s busy and tight streets. I went with my grandfather in the April spring. There was so much life outside. I went through the same road I do - five days a week to my university - but at 2pm it was completely different. It was filled with people and school boys and girls. A jumpy ride on a street I remembered differently. I needed some things for my work while on the way back grandfather got some flowers. Actually, way alot. It was plain wonderful.
The city streets. The sun, the flowers packed in our bags, the ride in the rickshaw - to and back - and grandfather by my side. This was Saturday best.