KARACHI: One of the iconic verses written in the Urdu language is by Mir Taqi Mir:

Nazuki us ke labb ki kya kahyey Pankhadi ik gulab ki si hai

How can I praise her lips! They’re like petals of a rose

Gulab is the key word here; it means a ‘rose’. Writers and poets all over the world have always used this flowering plant as a metaphor of beauty and tender feelings. Strange are the times we live in. Today Karachiites fear cyclone Gulab that’s gathering steam in northeastern Arabian Sea. If the Met office is to be believed, which these days most of the time hits the bull’s eye with its predictions, then from today (Thursday) to Saturday the entire Sindh is going to experience stormy weather conditions.

To be honest, rain is such a romantic thing. There’s a reason why quite a few songs in Pakistani and Indian films where a girl and a boy are seen in an amorous relationship are shot as a rain sequence. But that’s reel life. Unfortunately, it’s not the case in real life — at least as far as the Sindh capital goes. The moment on Thursday morning television channels began to relay the news of the imminent cyclone, there was palpable panic in Karachi. It’s not hard to know why. Even a 10-minute heavy downpour can cause the streets and roads of the megapolis look like the floating city of Venice, only the water is more turbid and smelly.

“It is such a lovely thing to receive rain, but I pray it doesn’t happen. It affects my small business,” says Asif Ali, who sells pakodas and katchoris on a pushcart. “I mean, we’ve all seen time and again what happens in the season. Water accumulates on roads and streets and it becomes difficult to move around.”

Nasir works at a local bank on I. I. Chundrigar Road. He lives in Al-Noor and reaches his office on a motorbike. “It is painful to ride a bike in water. Once the bike conks out, you’ve had it.”

These are the problems that everyone knows about. By everyone one means the authorities concerned: the Sindh government, the Karachi Metropolitan Corporation (KMC) and all those administrative units whose duty it is to look after Karachi. And yet, once it begins to rain one can only wait for it stop — even for a brief period — for the authorities to control the situation. Sadly, almost every time, action is taken when “it’s all water under the bridge”.

Arguably, the most harrowing aspect of it all is the difficulties that rescue workers and agencies have to face when such a disruption takes place.

Zeeshan drives an ambulance. He says once there’s rainwater on the main roads and arteries, meaning it’s not cleared or drained out immediately, driving an ambulance becomes impossible. It affects, naturally, all those who need first aid or urgent medical attention.

Let’s hope this time around, things don’t pan out the usual way. After all, how dangerous a gulab can be?

Published in Dawn, October 1st, 2021