This storm and rain on Saturday afternoon, stretching into the evening of the 23rd of June has brought us death and horror - resulting in an enlarged canvass of fear. A fear of rain. In fact, on this theme there are a diverse and contrasting feelings that we have undergone in the last three days. What has rain done to Karachiites, this time? Let's live with this question for some time.
The question is deliberate and not rhetorical. Forget the fact that it has brought some relief from the suffocating heat on June 23. How does one overlook the death and destruction that came in the wake of the storm and the rain. This of course was not the first time that so many people died due to rainfall in this city.
Year after year, rain has built up a worrying reputation that it should not have. This is something to be sad about. As a society there is taking place a certain distortion of our priorities?
With time, we have not only come to dread rain, but also quickly and easily tire of it. We are so poor in our infrastructure that after a day or so (or perhaps less) we inwardly pray that the rains stop. That we have had enough. That KESC - government owned or privatised, is only getting worse with each summer, even though it doesn't tire of doling out statistical alibis faithfully.
As a citizen of this city, who has experienced the loveliness of rain here, as well as elsewhere, abroad there is a definite sadness as one writes and reflects on this subject. It is not just futility driven, but I really see no point in doing a blame game on who is responsible in the ultimate. The answers are disgustingly obvious and so are the villains, is what citizens are saying. But really, the fact that we have built our lives, and continue to do on a poor edifice, has become exposed once again. And on this vast city wide scale.
Even the Sindh Chief Minister Dr Arbab Ghulam Rahim, has said on Monday that the Provincial government, the KESC and the Met Office are to be blamed for this tragedy that took place on 23rd June. This is a courageous statement. The crashing and crumbling of billboards as a cause of death and injury is something that has been highlighted enough, but look at what the Sindh Chief Minister has said of this aspect of the rain havoc.
Dr Arbab Ghulam Rahim has said in an official statement that this billboard collapse was "divine wrath" and went onto elaborate that "almost all companies advertised their products through obscene and vulgar pictures of women in Karachi and it was an un-Islamic act in our Muslim society". He also said that the thunderstorm was an expression of the wrath of Allah. This also mirrors the diversity of opinion and belief that exist in Pakistani society at this point in time.
I don't want to focus on the nature and extent of the dissent that even the rain has brought this time. But there is reason to contemplate that the Sindh Governor, Dr Ishratul Ibad, and the City Nazim, Mustafa Kamal, have at different times in the first three days of the rain advised the citizens to stay indoors in this wet weather. That it was too much of a risk to venture out in this season. Obvious reasons that came to mind of citizens were the fears of being electrocuted or the fears of a KESC electric pole falling or a billboard falling on unsuspecting passers-by.
Bear in mind that there are approximately 17000 Billboards in the city, and the Aaj TV newsman Azfar Imam has reported that of these about 13000 are unauthorised or illegal in one way or another. Also bear in mind that the City Nazim did begin a campaign against monstrous and aesthetically devastating hoardings some time ago. Was there pressure from vested interests which compelled him to call it a day? This nightmare these hoardings were this week has brought to the fore another aspect of how this city is run. That of multiple agencies, including the Cantonment Boards the city district government has no control.
Of course, I have been nostalgic on these rainy days. In a personal sort of way and in an impersonal manner also. I cannot ever recall when citizens have been advised by the government not to go out when it rains. That is one of the numerous pleasures of the loveliness of rain. What do innocent, enthusiastic and even naughty children do when a downpour in Karachi calls for an outpouring of emotion, feeling and energy.
Let there be no ambiguity on this and let us not create a city, and a society where the joys and the merrymaking that rain can bring to families is lost forever. Let us create neighbourhoods where monsoon rain is a source of togetherness and happiness and not divisive politicking - of death.
Of course when rain brings death and destruction like it did this time, I am always reminded of the 30th June 1977 rains in Karachi, and I would like to be corrected whether there has been anything quite as nightmarish like that ever since.
I also remember that on the 5th of July 1977 - five days later, came the end of a political movement which brought about a change of government.
In that rain, as indeed before that I recall we went walking in the rain. Walking as it drizzles is a beautiful experience. I am happy that one schoolboy, Ali, in all his curiosity and innocence actually walked on Tuesday as it rained. It's this thought that brings in the optimism.
Let me admit, that KESC has brought us so much darkness and fear that it has begun closing our minds to any thought of good cheer when the clouds burst. Billboards? That's a disgusting thought and performance, both.