OUR family migrated to Karachi in 1951. We first lived in Pakistan Quarters near what used to be called Gandhi Garden, then shifted to an F-type government quarter in Old Golimar near Teen Hatti, then to a bigger E-type quarter in Jahangir Road West area. Better days allowed the family to shift to a better locality; first to Muslim League Quarters, then to Nazimabad.

In 1974 we graduated to the slowly-developing Gulshan-i-Iqbal. After 22 years, destiny took us to a still better abode, the Askari Apartments near the Cantonment Railway Station. Finally, the ultimate leap to the Defence Housing Authority (DHA) came in 1997 when we had reached the pinnacle of social status in Karachi.

Not that, before reaching the elitist DHA, we had no grievances against the civic agencies when living in all the other localities, but the need to voice the gri-evances had never become so reactive. In fact, leaving those neighbourhoods — particularly the neighbours — made us sad, and we missed them.

Neighbours used to be neighbours in the true sense of the word. Contact with them, as well as with the neighbourhood vegetable vendors, meat sellers and grocery shop-owners was a pleasant everyday routine.

They greeted us with a smile and we never felt they were not fair in their dealings with us. Above all, those were the days when we walked the streets without any fear and went to late-night movie shows with family.

Today, though basking in the sunshine of high living in DHA, we feel lonely. The neighbourly indifference is painful. Despite living next door, my neighbours prefer to remain strangers. The area grocery shop-owner, the pharmacist and the sanitary worker, too, never exchange pleasantries with us. Even the domestic help acts indifferent and aloof despite visiting our house daily and being hand-somely paid. She comes at the appointed time, does the job and moves on to the next bungalow.

And look at the armed guards posted at so many bungalows. The large number of four-wheelers running on DHA roads. Is this a status symbol? Or is it fear that has made security the top priority? Even school and college-going children travel with armed guards. The high and mighty of DHA have become imprisoned in their own houses as well as expensive vehicles.

Being at the helm of affairs, the bigwigs were supposed to provide us, the ordinary residents, security, supply of piped water in our underground tanks, uninterrupted electricity for running our air-conditioners, fans, refrigerators and many other multiple appliances.

Yes, we, too, can boast of these luxuries since we are in Rome and we must do as the Romans do. The only difference is that the VIPs have bigger water tankers to fill their storage tanks, and bigger generators to light their ‘paradise’, while we have to make do with a lot smaller generators and water tankers.

One is not being jealous of the VIPs. We derive solace from looking at the dug-up roads and streets of DHA, as seen in the accompanying image, the leaking sewage, the open gutters, the unchecked vandalism at public places, and, above all, insecurity.

These are hurting the VIPs as much as they are hurting us, the lesser souls of the supposedly posh DHA. As they say in Persian, Marg-i-ambooh jashn darad (collective death is a cause for celebration)!

S.M. Shahid
Karachi

Published in Dawn, October 21st, 2024