Lessons Learnt the Hard Way

I don't get it. Every which way I turn, mostly what I hear are judgmental, condescending remarks. Mostly. A lady passing by from under my window speaking on her phone: You should have seen her- she looked hideous and thought she looked so nice. Lady talking to a shop keeper: Everything in your shop is old and over-priced. Who do you think you are... and then some explicit language I can't get myself to repeat. In the waiting lounge of a hospital two nurses wail about their boss: He's such a rotten man, thinks he rules the world. YES YES and YES! She might have been looking terrible, but she obviously thought she looked divine! What harm is she doing to you? Let her have her couple of hours of glory. The guy might be selling expired products at an exuberant rate, so why come to his shop in the first place when there are ten more on the street? So the doctor makes them work on tight schedules, but then isn't it even remotely possible that his work ethic will ul...

"If only"... the two only two words that hold the power to destroy the most powerful of people. True power comes from the excision of these demonic words from our vocabulary. It's been more than a year since I began this blog, and I've come a long way. Although I have miles and miles to go, I can proudly say that the aforementioned dreaded words have never once sneaked up on me and I'll tell you why...

" I pray for your happiness, " said a friend of mine. It was subtle, yet profound. She didn't mean I was unhappy. Only that she knew my journey to have been a tumultuous one. But surely as the winds of a storm that thunder on leaving only destruction in their wake ultimately die down to a serene calm, so does the grief and pain that claws and scratches at your heart. When you come out the other side, like I believe myself to have done, something changes. And it's glorious. It's liberating, it's empowering and it's absolutely impenetrable. And so I thought, am I happy? I don't know. Here is what I do know:

What if time travel actually did exist? What if you could actually send your immature, silly, younger self a letter, knowing what you know now- today? What nuggets of advice would you drop into your lap? What would you do differently? Would you even heed your own wisdom? Because one of the follies of youth involve not taking anything 'wise' very seriously at all. But if it were so... I know I have no regrets, none at all. I know despite this imagined time travelling capability, my fate was written and I also know until there is breath in me, my story will continue to unfold as it has been pre-written. All I have to do is live it with faith and give it my very best that it should not be a colossal waste of the earth's resources. God knows there are plenty of soul sucking, poor excuse of human beings out there, and I do not intend to be one of them. Again, if I could though, a letter to my younger self would go something like this...

I rested my head against the car window, adjusting my angle to avoid the sharp noon sun rays. They filtered through the thinning foliage of the young tree that caressed the car door. I looked up lazily. She was not a big thing, young - but not too young. She had not seen many winters I suppose, but enough at least, to give me respite against the glare of the sun, the kind of glare that looks specially sharper in the midst of winter. Until then, I had not noticed the tiny red flowers that were scattered scantily all over her branches. They danced in the soft breeze, carelessly, along with their green counterparts. The beauty of the scene mesmerized me, until nothing in my peripheral vision existed any longer. Suddenly, it was just her and me.

I've lived the better part of my childhood and adolescence abroad, and 2/3 of my married life as well. I no longer live abroad nor am I married either. As I reflect on the past, things around me become more clear, and I begin to appreciate what I had always taken for granted before. The most significant thing that I am truly and most humbly grateful for is for my very own city, my abode and my savior, my city Karachi. I realize that most of my Karachi readers, or Pakistani readers at that, will be wondering what the hell I am talking about. I get it. You've heard of political unrest, polluted streets, lack of basic amenities, the list goes on and on...it appears to be uninhabitable- a jungle- a place of mass hysteria. Whilst there is a morsel of truth in all the above, the horror stories are ridiculously exaggerated. But that is besides the point, let me show you how I see Karachi... Aerial View of a Part of Karachi