I have a dream …. I have hope … I have optimism …. I still breathe … I still move and somehow this city still lives. Karachi is an unusual beast, with numbers churning each day this city copes up with all that with poise and composure. Obviously, with years of experience comes patience, tolerance and carelessness. But Karachi is unusual , we are still humans , but with a different attitude. The populace can mourn the losses of fellow karachiites , yet still goes to work each day whether it be their heroic escapes through firings in liyari , or burning tires in kharadar , the common man has seen and done it all.
The commoner no matter how frustrated , how hopeless , and how poor he may be, still gets the energy to pick himself up when KESC and his children has messed with his head like anything. He still somehow stands tall and gets in to a bus which again is run by a mafia and charges him ridiculous amount and doesn’t stop at his bus stop. He jumps from the moving bus and barely makes it alive. Somehow, that man/women still has that energy in him to run to his work place where his boss will slam him for coming 5 minute late, on a day when the death toll would have reached double figures.
So now he starts his work , handling 5 –6 files and projects a single day and with big aspirations and hope of a promotion, he does everything possible in a single day that one would do in a week. He makes those calls immediately, rather than waiting, gets his orders and in the middle of the day he is called in by his boss. The boss dumps three more jobs in his belt and asks for a status within 4 hours. The lad works his socks off get them all done and as he reaches the last file, his wife calls and he responds to her request to go for shopping tonight. No is not an option for the lad , and he nods in approval as the phone hangs up without him actually speaking a word. He is almost finished doing his final file and his 4th cup of tea for the day, when his boss brings good news of a new project and tasks him again with major jobs for the next day. Since he has an hour remaining he starts work on the new project and before leaving the office gets done with the last order of the day.
Tired and bruised he again jumps in to a moving bus , barely making it. After paying the inflated bus fares and random talks with the stranger on inflation in theis land of pure. He finally reaches his stop and slowly lingeres to his home on a pitch black road , which obviously has to be blamed on the KESC. As he knocks on the door , his wife all dressed up and ready says , honey lets go and he just nods in approval.
This the daily routine of a common karachiite, one that still works in this lazy country. One that still busts his socks off in the midst of insecurity , inflation and pitch black darkness. Karachi is unusual than other parts of Pakistan, where people are content with their state of affairs , whether it be them earning 20k or 200k but in Karachi we never are. There is a race in Karachi , a race to reach the stars , a race to reach the top, a race to start a new life. With increasing Bhatta Khors, Curroptions , Political Conspiracies, Sindhu Desh demands, the common man never give a darn cause he knows if he leaves his work for a day, he can hamper his dreams… So if only Karachi can dream why can’t others. Why can’t a boy from Balochistan dream to become afridi, why can’t a young pathan dream to become Imran Khan ….
Pakistan doesn’t need any other imposed heroes like Rehman Malik, Nusrat Bhutto, Benazair Bhutto and the whole ruling elite , when the common man in Pakistan is a hero. Its time cities like Islamabad , Pindi Learn from the city of lights …. And these lights are not the street lights … these lights are lights of hope in the eyes of the common man.