"Firing in Saddar! Turn on the TV!"
I was at school, waiting for my mom to come pick me up - and for a second, I thought I'd lost her forever.
I live near Saddar, and every single act of violence that affects Saddar affects me too. I was waiting for my mom to come pick me up, obliviously laughing with my friends over some lame joke, unaware of what I was going to go through in the next ten minutes.
I was at my school, waiting for my mom to come pick me up - and for a second, I thought I'd lost her forever.
A guy came rushing up to us and said:
Normally, being a helpless Karachiite, I would have watched the news and grieved over the dead. Sometimes, it surprises me how desensitized I have become to the violent scenario in my city. I love my city, yet I know I am helpless.
I froze.
My mother did not necessarily always pass Saddar, but we lived close by.
I called her twenty times, and she did not pick up.
Another bad sign: my mother always picks up her phone.
I became hysterical.
I wouldn't let anyone come near me, and my friends were shocked to see me this way.
Finally, my mother called letting me know that she was safe.
Of course, everyone was okay so things would get back to normal.
No.
Everyone was not okay, and nothing was normal anymore. In those twenty minutes, I had come very close to realising the loss one feels when one loses a loved one.
I had experienced what over one hundred families living in Karachi are experiencing this very moment. It is not okay, and I cannot do anything to fix it. I can only hope.
When I turned on the television right now, and see the enthusiastic newsreader - she seemed too eager to me - telling me how many people died today, I feel like I keep losing a family member over and over again. It is uncontrollable and inhumane, and the worst part is that we cannot do anything but hope.
I was at my school, waiting for my mom to come pick me up - and for a second, I thought I'd lost her forever.
A guy came rushing up to us and said:
"Firing in Saddar! Turn on the TV!"
Normally, being a helpless Karachiite, I would have watched the news and grieved over the dead. Sometimes, it surprises me how desensitized I have become to the violent scenario in my city. I love my city, yet I know I am helpless.
I froze.
My mother did not necessarily always pass Saddar, but we lived close by.
I called her twenty times, and she did not pick up.
Another bad sign: my mother always picks up her phone.
I became hysterical.
I wouldn't let anyone come near me, and my friends were shocked to see me this way.
Finally, my mother called letting me know that she was safe.
Of course, everyone was okay so things would get back to normal.
No.
Everyone was not okay, and nothing was normal anymore. In those twenty minutes, I had come very close to realising the loss one feels when one loses a loved one.
I had experienced what over one hundred families living in Karachi are experiencing this very moment. It is not okay, and I cannot do anything to fix it. I can only hope.
When I turned on the television right now, and see the enthusiastic newsreader - she seemed too eager to me - telling me how many people died today, I feel like I keep losing a family member over and over again. It is uncontrollable and inhumane, and the worst part is that we cannot do anything but hope.