December 25, 2005

While the earthquake brought havoc, something pleasently surprising came into existance in its wake — it united the country

THEY say that an earthquake measuring over 11 on a Richter scale may split the earth in two. (This might not be as bad as it sounds since this may rid our part of the world of USA and its damning influence for good). Jolts of around 7.6 magnitude might not split earth but are good enough for wiping out a generation. Year 2005 provided ample evidence of that. We all know that our earth is not at peace with itself. Will never be. Yet the degree of its inward anger brutally revealed in 2005 caught us off guard.

In early 2005, she turned 27, an age she deemed as the midway point in her life. Now, in late 2005, she is trying to figure out if her 27 years were wholesome enough for a complete life. On the positive side, she will now never face the much dreaded mid-life crisis. Given the certainty of her end, her mid life crisis had already come and gone when she got her first pimple at the age of 13.

She is lying flat and straight, confined in a space less than her body dimensions and filled with broken concrete and rubble. As for height, there is about an inch available between her nose and the fallen roof. She could feel that the dust has settled as has her initial sense of hysteria. There is no light to ignite further panic. She was at home, the safest of all places, when it happened. So she cannot claim to be unlucky to be at the wrong place. An inaudible tapping sound gently drops into her right ear from some far off place. She tries to enthuse herself on this. It does not work.

She knows her own lungs will ultimately make it easy for her and will help end her misery. They are phlegmatically taking in the precious reserves of oxygen of the sealed space and pumping out carbon dioxide. Soon the last oxygen molecule hidden in the most inaccessible of holes will fall pray to the inhaling human machine, transforming itself forever but taking out the enemy with it.

She sweeps her hand across her stomach. There will never be a child in there. Her marriage was scheduled next year. Some wombs are not destined to be made use of. Maybe for good. Had she been a mother, it could have been worse. It would have been worse. She felt relieved and happy to live with her pristine womb for the rest of her life consisting of next handful of hours at most.

Since she cannot turn a side physically, she turns inside towards her childhood. There exists an alternative world in all of us. For her it was the only world where she could still move and laugh and sing. She knew that she would have to remain in this world till her last breath. She wanted to die there. This will at least give her face a smile when they will finally excavate her body.

A typical Pakistani truck, embellished with bright colours and street poetry on its body makes its way towards the agreed spot and halts. The relief goods meant for the earthquake victims will soon be handed over to the greedy traders of the region. The truck driver opens the truck’s back door and walks off to the other side of the large neem tree at a distance to relieve himself. Every blanket and each atta sack passionately donated by some patriotic citizen could save a life up North. The driver cannot claim ignorance on this score. Yet he is unable to resist the temptation to sell the donated stock strictly not meant for trade.

Even after thousands of years of evolutionary progress, residue of core animal instincts in men still remain. One of the basic distinguishing trait is that humans have sense to overcome all their weaknesses including greed. But evolutionary retards are still found.

With some humans, morality is a stricken disease that they want to get rid of at the first available opportunity. Personal monetary gain is a temptation against which we are all ever willing to part with the currency of morality held by us. But this truck driver is not saving any of the stock of moral currency and exchanging it completely. He has raised the bar for moral depravation. The one good thing out of this is that the bar is set so high that the mere scale will discourage others to cross it.

Truck driver has nearly relieved himself behind the tree when the stone hurled at him falls on his passing and splashes some of the smelly liquid on to his face and eyes. The thrower of the stone, a young boy, cannot hold back his pleasure and smiles. At nine, this was the best punishment he could have administered to the animal in the corner, even better than the intended head wound by his stone.

Teenage fury can best be described as misplaced grievance blown out of proportion. Parents are usually the perceived villains and hence victims. Today he has off loaded all of his stock of teen anger onto his ailing father. There are no bridges left to return home. He steps out of the house, vowing not to come back. Let father be buried by the mohalla when his cough finally consumes him.

Alongwith his loafer friends, he arrives at the PAF Museum to stare at the female volunteers helping in organizing relief goods. He knows there has been an earthquake but did not know that it has ‘moved’ the other end of the country in such a strong manner. There are boys and men, and indeed some girls fervently trying to carry relief goods.

The task looks enormous. If he is here anyway, he better help. Picking his first blanket makes him feel important and boosts his teen ego. He is part of something constructive. He is part of the team of volunteers who have been joined by an urge to help a devastated lot.

His churlish youth gives way to manhood at PAF museum. After each hour, he feels his energy growing. He feels that of all the work undertaken in the world, none can be more monumental than his. Satisfaction is not only derived out of photographs in the newspapers and pictures on TV. A sweeter contentment lies in the knowledge that your small act made a positive difference in others’ life. Today he tastes this and develops a flavour and liking for it.

His morale carries his limbs till the third day of his volunteer work. From here, fever takes over and his body starts becoming numb. With terrible sun pouncing its rays on the volunteers, the teenager returns home, outwardly appearing spent and fatigued but rejuvenated from within. In just three days he has been humbled and overwhelmed. He now knows what responsibility entails and what dereliction of duties means.

During his long and powerful embrace with his father, his eyes remain shut out of guilt which gradually starts flowing out through tears to leave his inner being lighter. He wants his father not to stop coughing out of courtesy during their reunion. He wants his cough to be audible so that his father’s woes remain alive in his mind every moment. His cough is now a challenge instead of an irritation. It needs to be fought rather than avoided. All of a sudden, he now feels what loss means and what tonnage regret weighs.

And the faintest of taps is heard again. Humans are incorrigible when it comes to forsaking hope. But when one hopes beyond one’s own self and about others this means that one’s soul is at its purest. She smiles and hopes for the last time. She hopes that the person who can still tap even after four day deserves to be rescued. A consummately vicarious and unselfish last hope of a departing soul. The last oxygen molecule is now in her tiring lungs.

Earthquake are meant to break, dismantle, devastate and mangle life and property. That is what the mind conjures up on hearing the word. That is exactly what the year 2005 brought and will be remembered for, as the year 1935 has become synonymous with Quetta earthquake. Many a thousands lives and many a thousand families will mourn their deads forever. Notwithstanding all the misery that befell on our people, the year 2006 and beyond does not appear as despairing and hopeless.

While the earthquake brought havoc, there was also something else that came into existence in its wake. Something unexpected. Something considered long lost. Something pleasantly surprising. It was the sense of unity reflected in willingness, rather eagerness in taking care of the grieving fellow Pakistanis. We did rise above party and ethnic prejudices for this cause.

The earthquake tore asunder many a family but ironically it brought the country together. It gave hope to us, the disillusioned third and fourth generation that this ship has some resilience left. We still have hearts and are not self indulgent beyond redemption. While we all pay respects to the dead, the wounded and the homeless of year 2005, we cannot help think that Pakistan is far from dead and buried, and apparent depravation can still face some resistance from the innate nobility of our people. The earthquake brought the nation back to life and returned its conscience.

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