by Ayesha Khan
June has never been the best of months for Lahore. The heat is at its worst. The days, form 11 am to 5 pm are not fit for man and beast to be outdoors. We, the Lahoris finish our daily chores as early as possible enabling us to hole up in our darkened and air conditioned rooms, air coolers being the alternate for air conditioners in Punjab. Evenings are spent sitting out in lawns or courtyards or rooftops watching. A psychological game. Watching trees, just to see the leaves move or flutter a little so what’s so great about it? The moving leaves give us the feeling that there is a breeze somewhere, imperceptible though, yet its there. The very feeling provides solace to our minds and souls.
The general age old dialogue is “hawa chali hay”, (the breeze is blowing) give us hope to live on, waiting for more of the blessing. So it was under these conditions of being under the weather that I received an invitation from a very dear childhood friend followed by an SMS and three calls to visit Karachi and take part in the festivities and share the happiness of this “mubarak mouqa” (of her sister’s mayoon, mehndi and wedding. My children’s schools were closed for the summer vacation and they too were getting restive in the stifling heat of Lahore. Normally we go to Murree or Abbotabad but in the given state of unrest prevailing all over the country, we had decided to stay put and rough it out in our own city.
The invitation from Karachi sent a wave of excitement in our family. Vision of “Karachi ka Samandar” the sea breeze, long wide roads, Clifton, Hawkes Bay, Sandspit, crabbing in the Arabian ocean and what not tempted us all.
It was unanimously agreed that Karachi it is this time. Tickets had bean already sent by my friend (an old Punjabi cultural tradition) so it was going to be an all expenses paid free loading trip. What more could one ask for in these times of adversity. A couple of load-shedding evenings were spent shopping for appropriate presents for the lucky inhabitants of the city of lights who had provided us this timely succor. And thus finally, excitedly and happily we landed at Karachi. The date was June the 17th, 2009 and the day was Wednesday. The time was around 11 am. My friend was there to receive us (us meaning me and my two daughters).
My daughters were overcoming their surprise at a semi cool breeze at this time of the day while I and my friend were overcome with joy at being together after a long time. Embraces and chit chat all done, we headed home, the base of festivities. The drive home was eye opening as compared to Lahore, the heat was a little less, plus point being the aforementioned daytime breeze. People were out on the roads going about their daily grind in cars, wagons, busses and of course, motorbikes, buzzing away in swarms.
We reached home. More of embraces and exchange of joyful wonderment like “Arey Minaal kitne bari hogai hay” (was she to remain a baby always?) and finally we settled down. We had arrived on the second day of mehndi. Fun and frolic, songs and dances and finally the food. Food! That we the Lahoris are really fond of. What an evening to look forward to. The nearest and dearest ones had already gathered to help out in preparations for the evening’s events. A little distance ones were trickling in but the main push was timed at 8 pm (the new day light saving time) so that guests could conveniently come between 9 and 10 pm. Lovely planning.
Time flew, as it is wont to. Before one could hum “mehndi walay hath” it was 6 pm, seven hours had gone by since our arrival including one and a half hour of load shedding which was not even felt in the heat of excitement and of course the presence of a generator. All arrangements were complete. The mehndi “thalls” were ready with candles embedded in the thick mehndi base and glitter. Baskets of mithai had arrived “daigs” (cauldrons) were steaming away. And the hands of the clock showed 7 pm. More guests mostly ladies, arrived in scintillating dresses which gave the fully lighted atmosphere a shimmering ambience Oh! What a beautiful night to look forward to!
And then it happened. The lights went out. Not just ours. The whole area blacked out. Total darkness, reminiscent of ’65, ’71 wars. Generators were turned on. Some relief! An hour elapsed. Guests started coming. Another hour passed. The sole generator could not cope with the demand of so many lights and fans. Cooling diminished. Even the famous Karachi evening breeze went back to the sea. Make-ups and kajals started dripping. Another hour passed. No lights. And then we got the news. The big news, that due to a rainstorm at Jamshoro a high voltage pylon has collapsed, depriving Karachi, Hyderabad and other places in the interior, of light. Was it only our plight? What about the people in flats with infants and small children crying through the night. The men folk could come out in the streets and roads seeking the cool. What about the women folk?
Despite promises of high, higher and highest ups, no relief till 11 pm. The mehndi guests started going back to their homes and hearths as all had been stricken by this catastrophe. Festivities and celebration aside, the night really became a nightmare. You can well imagine the disappointment of all concerned. Generators gave out. The candles in the “mehendi thalls” were used sparingly for some likeness of illumination just to find our way about. Mehandi was postponed. No one could sleep the whole night as darkness reigned in Karachi and the suburbs. Karachi, a city of over 16 million inhabitants. But there is a silver lining to every dark cloud, read night. In the recent past New York city had a power bread down. That one night recorded innumerable shop breakings, lootings, hundred of rape cases and total mayhem.
Nothing like that happened in Karachi… are we still uncivilised in our own and international eyes? Despite the discomfort of the night this very thought gives us a far greater comfort.
