This city doesn't look the same.

Without you. 

dreamerlessstrongpeopledriftawaycorpsesstuckonpeopleallmisunderstood

‘I tell you… she is such a dreamer… a foolish, sensitive dreamer...’

So cold, his voice. Maybe the whiskey he is drinking should burn him a little.

‘Yeah?’ I asked, my voice almost trembling.  May be the whiskey I am drinking should burn me a little less.

And we are both drinking the same.

‘Yeah man… It’s crazy to be sensitive, and a dreamer… denial becomes unavoidable then’

‘Hmmm…’ Maybe he is right.

‘You got to be better than this you know… you got to be strong…’

Well.  

Being sensitive, and being weak… and their correlation in his mind. Explains why the same whiskey works differently.

A cryptic code, a whirling Sufi, a broken compass… Isn’t this how people drift away from each other?

……………………

April 21, 2012. Bhoja Air Flight 213 crashed last night. 127 corpses and thousands of unfulfilled promises flying out of the capital right now. I look at my mum, she seems numb, watching all of this on the television screen.

‘Kitne log becharey mar gaye naa…’

‘Yes, maa…’ I can barely say anything more. She does not know yet what I know, she has not seen my sister as I did just few minutes back.

But the news came soon. Corpse number 128 was ready to be driven away.

……………………

‘He has his own issues you see, some really messed up but rare incongruities’.

‘Ahan, like?’

‘Like… he gets bored of things but stuck on people’.

……………………

‘How many of your kids are in school?’

‘All of my boys are!’

‘And the others? I mean your girls?’

‘Oh they dropped out! They are all married now’

……………………

La ilaha ill Allah Muhammadur-Rasul Allah

‘Your father was a good man...

… and often misunderstood’

………………….