Another day of turmoil and unrest in this city. How can we live in an atmosphere of fear and apprehension as to what would happen next or whether life will be allowed to return to normal tomorrow. Any incident that takes place, such as the gruesome murder of a political activist and his brother in cold blood is followed by acts of vandalism, oppression and burning of private and public property. This collective expression of anger and rage is typical of a repressed people or in our case is it actually? Is it the actual average joe who goes out in protest of some wrong doing or lack of concern of the government or is it the political parties planning riots and mayhem on this public pretext. In Karachi it is always the latter, the normal person has no time for politics in this city, at least most of the people who want to go to work and get home safe and steady.
What does this constant vacillation between one party workers and the other say about this city and its people who are basically trapped in its turf wars and it's power-warmongering games. The people are sick and tired of this state of affairs and want peace and quite and expect a certain constancy which is very scarce here.
Despite the situation in the city, amidst reports of burning cars and closed strike, we went to lunch at an uptown restaurant, good place, but too large for my liking, I prefer smaller cosier places that have the personal touch, this reminded me of a five-star hotel. What I'm trying to say is that no matter what happens around us, we continue living, and that is what is the human-essence, the ability to absorb so much negativity and chaos and yet be able to move forward and live as though all is as it should be.
I read somewhere the other day, that the only thing we actually possess is our past - everything else is transitory. How very true is that, but what do you do if you don't like your past, if it makes you sad and miserable what do you have then? Again, not everything in one's past can be disturbing there are always good bits one can cherish and hang on too, but what happens when most of it is steeped in melancholy and pain and of unmet desires and unfulfilled wishes and unrealized dreams? I thought over this for the longest time and still I do accept the adage it is the past that we have and nothing else and it is, I guess, left to us how to see and understand that past and try to go beyond the superficial pain and anguish to really get to the crux of the matter and understand our own self from that.
I am re-reading the wonderful classic The White Nile by Alan Moorhead, it is a fantastic tale on the expedition in the mid 19th century to erstwhile uncharted areas of Central Africa in search for the source of the magnificent Nile river, a mystery still unsolved at that time. I love the book for its spirit of adventure, of the suspense and the unveiling of mystery of world hither to unknown to the world, it has that frontier spirit to it, it has the rarefied air of going where no man has ever gone before, of encountering unknown and undefined fears and of revelation and knowledge as its reward. My father loved this book and the copy that I am reading now is the one I got him. It seems to me when I read it that he is besides me and we are discussing the book and its story as we did so many times when he was there with me.
I still feel there is so much in me that disturbs me, that needs to be reconciled, that needs to be put to rest, that needs to be pacified, I still feel I'm somehow not home.
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