Monday – 26 Rabi us Sani 1428 – 24 Vaisakh 1929 – 14 May 2007
I sit here in my room. Shocked, anguished, angry. And I know that as of this moment I cannot think or articulate my thoughts properly. There has been unspeakable violence in the city over the past three days. A comedy of errors by all the different sides. MQM calling a rally on the day the Chief Justice was to come to Karachi. The Chief Justice for insisting on going the the Sindh High Court by car. The Government for not taking necessary precautions keeping in view Karachi’s past. The opposition for calling a strike today.
More than 35 people have died. We have all seen the harrowing scenes on TV, in newspapers, on the internet and through sms. Scenes that make me feel ashamed of being a part of this whole. Because, no matter how it is seen. I am as much a reason and a part of this mayhem as anyone else. It is my fault that I did not get involved in the social and political life of my city. If I feel I have a voice that preached sanity, I should be preaching it all the time, not just after crisis situations.
Apart from asking each other who was responsible for such mass madness; and then discussing and bickering and not coming to any agreement on how to handle the situation; we need to take steps. As Pakistanis as Karachiites we need to change who we are. We need to condemn and oppose violence and destruction in each and every format. We need to show our politicians that we want actions not rhetoric. The citizens of any modern nation are it’s strongest force. We need to realize this. Our future is in our hands; we can do whatever we want with it.
As for myself. When I go to work tomorrow, I will start as if I was coming to office on Saturday, with not a blemish of this agonizing experience. I will remember it, but I will not let it break my will. Because, in the end that is what this city has, an undying willpower. No matter how much this city has seen it has stood up every time. And it will stand up again, and I will be a part of it.
یوں ہی ہمیشہ الجھتی رہی ہے ظلم سے خلق
نہ ان کی رسم نئی ہے نہ اپنی ریت نئی
یوں ہی ہمیشہ کھلائے ہیں ہم نے آگ میں پھول
نہ ان کی ہار نئی ہے نہ اپنی جیت نئی
چلو پھر سے مسکرائیں ۔ ۔ ۔