A Different Sunday in Karachi - PSL Final day

Tic toc tic toc tic toc tic....

I look at the wall clock that says 6:30. My clock is behind. It’s 1 am in the morning.

Hours until PSL final - 18

I check my twitter to see what’s trending.

People are elated! Of course. Why won’t they be? We haven’t seen a celebration like this in a long time.
Long long time.

I had a lazy day. And this struggle to fall asleep every night has become a routine. I count the light bulbs in the light string bordering my soft board. Eighty-Five.

The air smells of burning trash on a street nearby. What a pure environment to sleep in. I check my twitter again. A guy is standing inside Gaddafi stadium holding placard that reads

“han bhei Karachi waalun,
hamara saaf suthra Lahore kesa laga?’

I scratch my pimple. How could I have possibly seen outside of stadium from TV?. Phir bhi acha laga. Don't behave like Indian Media.

I click on the status bar in WhatsApp. People have shared pictures and videos of PSL preparations. Same stories over and over. Yet it is not annoying me. Something just bothers me a little. Can’t put my finger on it exactly. I put my phone down and doze off to sleep.

The morning is like any other morning.  It’s rather dry out there. Warm and sunny morning. 

I check up on my mom.

“Can you get me a glass of milk?” she asks.

“Sure. Chai banai hai?”

She smiles mischievously and nods in negative.

“Mama you know I need tea first thing in the morning. I get a headache”

I head to the kitchen and put tea on the stove. Doorbell rings. The maid comes in. On SUNDAY. I gave my mom a questioning look.

“Oh. She took one day off earlier this week”

Wow, she has some work ethic. I never even stayed for extra hours in wards to complete my deficit let alone go on Sundays. 

Maid to mom: “Bari mushkil se ayi hun
eedhar oodhar con-tainer rkha he
Kia hai aaj kyun band kiya he?”

Mom: “aaj match hai”

“Owaam ko preshaan krne ka he bus. Ishtadium toh pura band krdiya he.” Says my Bengali maid in her best Urdu accent.

Mom and I look at each other and smile. I pick up the newspaper from the counter.
There is PSL in every headline.

Karachi readies for PSL final today amid tight security

Final kay liye security hukkaam ne National Stadium ka charge sambhaal liya

It feels good to see management in the madness of Karachi. Only yesterday I was commuting through that very route. Never felt more secure with police on duty every 20 miles. The players’ cutouts, the lights. My city is decorated like a bride.

Big-time Cricket returns to Karachi after Nine Years.

Nine years! Nine years since we last had an international match here. The city is no stranger to lawlessness and turmoil. Long hours of load-shedding, street crimes, political riots, target killings, abductions, bomb blasts, bad traffic, pollution, we have seen it all. The city of lights turned into one of the least-liveable cities worldwide. But if you ask a true Karachiite, there is nowhere else they’d rather be.  After so many things enough to tear the city apart, we still haven’t forgotten how to celebrate life.

Today is another reminder that it’s still too early to lose hope in this place. Najam Sethi told every minister, minister ka beta, VIPs and wanna be VIPs to buy their tickets and don’t ask him for free passes. A gesture giving out message to prefer national interest over personal one. The higher authorities ordered and lower ones complied. The city’s mood changed in less than a week. You showed us this city can be better. The people can be united again.

There can be security, mega-events, smiles, and celebration every day.

Oh, I can put my finger on it finally. It’s not going to be every day, just tonight. But CM sahib, when you can do it now, what’s stopping you in future? 

I come upstairs to my room to clean the mess I made last night. Ah! Me and my weekend celebrations. I fire up the laptop to put on some good music. Only today good music meant playing ‘bandar road se kemaari’ by Ahmed Rushdi on loop. What a classic. Gives me nostalgia for the times I wasn’t even alive in.

“Busoun ki aaj hui hartal,
Sawaari ki phir kia he kaal….”

At least they didn’t shut down the whole city.

It’s getting warmer. I draw the curtain on my window.

6:00 pm

The song is still playing. I turn on the TV. Najam Sethi is addressing the crowd. You can see the crowd wearing united and zalmi’s T-shirts. This city welcomes everyone. Performances have started. Everyone is cheering. The verve is contagious. Strings, the 30-year-old band pervade the life in the crowd. I bet Karachi feels young too.

“Yahin ka aar-tist banta
Jo hota Raja indar bhi,
babu hojana footpath par….

.