IT IS very hot. The whole day, I was out doing various chores and was not able to read the newspaper. Tried to look at the main news and pictures but the power went off. Impressed with the Vajpayee and Manmohan Singh historic picture in which they were smiling together. Not so lucky to own a generator, so have to wait for the power to return to read the caption.
Am feeling sleepy. But the humidity!
What a weather, and thanks to our power authorities, you need not go to the gym to sweat it out. They ensure that at least for an hour daily you sweat and make the required fitness level.
What a pity! No power at office and now at home again — a victim of unplanned loadshedding. Always remember the good old days of childhood when we slept outside the rooms in courtyards during summers. Now even amid loadshedding you dare not take the risk to sleep outside in Karachi. No one knows when a stray bullet or masked men may invade your privacy.
What to do, how to kill time?
The idea of having ice-cream sounds appealing. Called Sheeda to bring the ice-cream as in any case it would melt. You must try ice-cream on such occasions as it is the best way to cool down your body and mind. With a triple scoop of caramel crunch, I eased into my old chair in the balcony, thinking about the day’s events. Life seems good with a mouthful of ice-cream. Feel some sea breeze or is it the effect of the cold ice-cream sliding down my digestive system?
There was a function going on. All our familiar politicians were there. What a cordial atmosphere! Looks like some big occasion.
The self-exiled and forcefully exiled were both present!
The lady looking smart with a not-so-good-looking husband may be coming straight from long imprisonment. They are being greeted by others.
The bald gentlemen looks very sharif, sitting with his brother and Abbaji and chatting with Chaudhrys. What a scene! Absolutely unbelieving.
The fragrance of friendship and happiness is in the air. Everybody exchanging pleasantries. I remember the gentlemen shaking hands with the lady’s husband. He looks quite familiar. Oh yes, he had left her party. Good to see them back on talking terms.
Who must be he? Talking so loudly at the other table. His voice sounds familiar, as if we have been hearing it everyday from national channels speaking on behalf of the Government. And now that sound is sharing hearty laughter with the forced exiled people.
Sounds great. Too great. But wait, I feel something missing.
What could it be? The scene is so complete. The colourful dresses of the ladies, the men wearing the starched national dress, though some are also wearing black and blue suits. What could it be that is missing in the whole scene?
I scratched my not-so-bald head. Got it! The starched uniforms and the salutes.
Can’t believe it. No one from the uniformed quarter at a national level meeting? Let me ask someone what the occasion is. Why all this celebration all over?
Excuse me. Tried to stop the baira serving lassi and lime water.
Would you please tell me what this function is for?
“Don’t you know?” He looked surprised.
I swear I don’t. No way but to admit my ignorance.
The baira has the nerve to question me, a bureaucrat?
I wondered. Had he known that I am neither well-connected nor posted in an important division, a person living within his own means?
The baira smiles while offering me the lassi.
“It’s a party to greet the nominated Prime Minister,” he replies, pointing at a table where some people were sitting amid loads of bouquets.
Want to look at the lucky face. Tried to peep. No luck, so many people are gathered round the table.
Who would be the lucky one?
It is 2006 and they are meeting here to greet the prospective candidate who had been nominated by the party winning the election.
The opposition leader is now entering the hall with a bouquet in hand, walking towards the lucky table with a smiling face.
Oh my God, they are embracing each other. The outgoing shaking hands, saying praising words for the newly nominated one. I try to look round for the uniformed class. Is anyone eying for the post in case they blame each other?
The person in uniform is presenting a bouquet also! What a scene. I wish I could rewind it again and again.
There is something dripping on my hand. Try to feel it. It feels sticky.
“Come on, the power is back.” Someone is calling my name.
Yes, I am witnessing the return of power, the return of democracy.
“It’s midnight, why don’t you come in and sleep.”
Sounds like someone is talking to me.
“Get up!” “The ice-cream has melted.”
My brother shakes my shoulder.
What? I find myself sitting in my old chair in my flat balcony. I was dreaming amid the power breakdown.
IT IS very hot. The whole day, I was out doing various chores and was not able to read the newspaper. Tried to look at the main news and pictures but the power went off. Impressed with the Vajpayee and Manmohan Singh historic picture in which they were smiling together. Not so lucky to own a generator, so have to wait for the power to return to read the caption.
