Fury beneath the earth

History doesn't repeat itself, but it often rhymes.  — Mark Twain

Karachi, a city not traditionally associated with seismic upheavals, has been experiencing mild tremors of around 3.5 on the Richter scale almost daily for over a week now. While these may seem insignificant on the surface, those familiar with seismic history will find the pattern uncomfortably reminiscent of one of South Asia's most tragic natural disasters — the Quetta earthquake of 1935.

Before that catastrophic event, Quetta had been experiencing mild tremors for nearly a month. Residents grew used to the gentle daily jolts, much like Karachiites are doing today. But on the night of May 31, 1935, disaster struck.

A massive earthquake, measuring 7.7 on the Richter scale, reduced Quetta to rubble in less than a minute. Over 30,000 lives were lost, including many British officers and their families, as well as local citizens. Habib Nullah's one side was razed entirely.

The total destruction of Quetta was not entirely caused by a high-intensity earthquake but was greatly exacerbated by the fact that buildings were mostly made of unreinforced adobe and stone, which collapsed instantly during the violent tectonic activity. I doubt Quetta is architecturally prepared to face another significant earthquake along its prominent fault line.

This tragedy is more than just history to me — it is personal. My late father, Shujaat Ali Siddiqi, then serving as Deputy Controller Military Accounts in Quetta, witnessed the foreboding tremors. A member of the elite Indian Audit and Accounts Service of undivided India, he had a narrow escape. What a coincidence that he was transferred to Lahore shortly before the fateful night — a twist of luck that possibly saved his life along with his family at the time.

The recurrent tremors in Quetta did nothing to give a wake-up call, nor did the lurking danger throw any caution to the wind. But that echo of the past should be seriously heeded. Today, as Karachi experiences eerily similar tremors, it is vital that we don't allow familiarity to dull our caution.

Experts must investigate these patterns seriously. Our city planners, civil defence teams and citizens should not dismiss these signs, lest history decide to echo with more force than we are prepared for.

Karachi is a city that has mushroomed haphazardly. The longstanding calmness of the sea and earth has contributed to non-compliance with earthquake-resistant structural codes and techniques.

The high-rise buildings in the city appear susceptible to collapse when the fury of the sea or earth, God forbid, strikes. Let Karachi not become another Quetta. The past whispers warnings — will we listen? At least keep an eye on birds and animals as they possess a special sense of foreboding such calamities.

I recall a befitting sher to describe this phenomenon:

Ye ek ishara hai afaat-e-nagahani ka

Kisi jagah se parindon ka kooch ker jana