There are dead bodies lying in the streets, and above them, in a display of jarring incongruity, is a sign stating that 2007 is the year of tourism for Pakistan, and I think that if I don’t laugh I’m going to cry, because how did this happen to us again? The scenes flashing past me look like images from Beirut or Baghdad, or Sarajevo. People crying, blood everywhere, fire licking at anything even remotely flammable, and no matter where you turn, moustachioed thugs with Kalashnikovs and carbines, firing at anything that moves.
I have learned that watching Musharraf’s speech immediately after eating dinner can cause nausea of the highest degree. I’d like to play the blame game now, but I’m still recovering from hearing gunfire for over three hours and I think I’d like to recover in the only way I know how to in Karachi – inhale, exhale, and repeat to myself that tomorrow will be a better day.
[Image courtesy BBC]