By: Aftab Alam
With shadows of the monsoon already lurking on the doorstep, an old resident of H-11 Sector in Islamabad is busy in an effort to safely see through the rough weather conditions which is a trademark of monsoon in the country. Helping him in this endeavor is a cute little soul who bravely manages a hearty laughter under a heavy load of the loaf of mud she tries to handle. This is a scene quite common in Pakistan where it is the first priority of the have-nots to put an extra layer of mud before the setting in of heavy rains to their straw-roofed, mud-plastered houses that face a real danger of being damaged at the cruel hands of nature. This extra layer of mud protects them against leakage of the roof that may dampen the whole house.
Surprisingly, the scene is not from a far off, deprived place of the country rather it is taking place within the Capital- right under the nose of the Government whose greatest slogan still echoes in the memories of the voters of this nation- ‘Roti, Kapra aur Makaan’ ( bread, clothing and houses for all Pakistanis). Nobody is bothered about the safety of the houses of this deprived poor majority of the country.
The wrinkled face of the old man is a proof enough of the many rough monsoons he had to face throughout his life. The mud-stained clothes he wears tell a story of the man’s fate. There is a strange air of sobriety and solemnity in the appearance of the old man especially his hands- the hands that have made the foundations of this country so strong that no storm of conspiracy and corruption can dare to damage it. The way he receives the mud from the girl’s hands with affection shows his attachment to the soil of the motherland.
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