Karachi: The Phoenix And The Flames

Legend has it that a phoenix, a beautiful mystical bird
lives for over 500 years and then it dies. It's body catches fire, facing the
burning sun and then…it is reborn from the ashes…..


My fingers tap the keyboard impatiently, willing my
brain to work. But the latter is too overwhelmed by surprise; I have finally
decided to pen down my thoughts about this city that I have learnt to love,
though I was determined not to. How can I not pretend to feel the bond it possesses
with its inhabitants, how it is engulfed into flames daily by violence and how
it always manages to rise from the ashes? What triggered me to write? Maybe its the recent killings.
Or that so many people are recalling the year 1995 when nearly 3500 people were killed
throughout Karachi. If I were honest with myself, I would say that this article
is the result of many years of observations, of seeing our city go down and
rise again, of learning about a wild unity amongst us Karachiites for those who
live here cannot fail to see it.

 Every day without fail, as the sun rises again, our city is
reborn. The flames are visible to all. Throughout the world, people associate
this city with violence, fear, murder and blood. How can they not fail to see
the flames that engulf our Karachi? Outsiders watch it pityingly, thinking
themselves lucky. They may be. But we know they are not. For though they see
the flames, they cannot feel the rebirth as the city rises from the ashes, like
a phoenix raising its beautiful head and bursting into song. This city defies
all threat, it faces danger head on. Again and again it falls and again….it
rises.

When asked how we feel about our city, we don’t know how to
respond. How do we explain the strange vibrancy Karachi possesses? For this
city refuses to die. It refuses to disappoint its inhabitants who despite
everything call it ‘home’. We may love it or hate it. We cannot ignore it. This
vibrancy is one that is felt by all. Those who seek to go
abroad forever cannot get rid of the images that are branded in their hearts
and minds forever. The dirt, the dilapidated buildings, the blinding smoke….we
may seek to run away from it yet in some way or another we find ourselves back
here.

To be a Karachiite speaks volumes. It is a tribute to the fact
that we have seen what few people have, we have faced violence, even if at a
distance, we have heard the bomb blasts that ravage daily, we have wondered if
the city has finally crumbled only to see it standing still and surviving,
forever surviving. Being a Karachiite is the realization of the delicate
balance we have with our humanity and our will to carry on. It is a reminder
that our eyes must have once watered, our hearts would have been left smarting
and still we go on. We may have blind faith in Karachi's survival but it is not something
we have out of desperation….we have learned to have it.

Karachiites are accused of having become insensitive, almost
inhuman. We are not afraid of coming out of our homes anymore, come what may. We
have learnt the hard way that time and tide wait for no man. We bury our dead.
We comfort the living. But there is nothing more we can do. We have seen too
much. A young man has wept before stone faced soldiers pleading for mercy. A
child has been caught playing with grenades in our streets. Five men have been
found dead in a pool of blood aboard the bus. But we carry on. This is as strong,
as tough as we can get because if we don’t, we break.

And still we hear the sound of laughter. Our perky youth
know how to turn things around. A pat on the back, a hearty “Karachi beats
Lahore anytime!”, the rising Karachitips (“Always help that bhai who needs a
dhakka for his car….that is how we roll!” or “Lyari FC is where the REAL
FOOTBALL is at!”). This is our city’s greatest gifts to us…the wild, silent
unity amongst people of all classes….that of being a Karachiite. We are tough.
We are driven. We don’t just survive, we live in the truest sense of the word
because we have learnt to value the hope of another tomorrow.