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Karachi is the Paris of the East
by Hania Anwar Sheikh | Published January 1st
We’ve all heard someone say this at least once, in a tone laced with humor and sadness, that Karachi was, “The Paris of the East.” Humor because the notion is so incongruous with the truth of our city, and sadness because of that very same fact. If anything, Karachi is a city of jarring contradictions, a battlefield between the past and the present, so violent that even the sea began to retreat from the carnage it witnessed here.
A city of discontent, a city unloved- wherein the one half who struggles for their daily bread is consumed by that struggle, and the other half in whose pantry that bread rots cannot wait to escape what they deem to be a sweltering hellhole they’re unfortunate to call home. So, no, this city is not the Paris that you know- the Paris of romantic cobble stone streets and verdant parks, museums and art galleries, yet it is the Paris of the East all the same.
Karachi is the Paris on the brink of revolution- starving, shouting up with one voice to the heavens in outrage. Karachi is the Paris filled with the opulent and the beggared, the wealthy and the starving poor, the Paris painted in stark, jarring contrasts. That is the Karachi we live in. A city demarcated in clear lines. A city of indifference.
The indifference with which we turn our faces away from beggars as if by averting our gaze they will seize to exist. The desperate desire we cultivate within ourselves to relinquish that disquieting, niggling sense that we dare not call guilt- because that would be akin to pouring water over this painted world of black and white we have crafted, and letting it dissolve into gray.
Because that would mean that we have a duty to help. Yet the second we feel that cold uneasy feeling of guilt, we cast it off with a deprecating shrug, citing the age-old excuse, “What are we to do if the government does not help?”
Yes, this country is their responsibility and therefore, its state is their fault. If they cannot help it, why ever should we try?
Yet, to look towards the government to take the first step is akin to waiting for a fish to fly. Our governments have distinguished themselves only by the degree of their ineffectiveness- they have mutually decided to reach towards the lofty goals of unapproachability, ineffectualness, and deceit.
The government is a disloyal lover you rage at each time they falter, yet ultimately invite back into your bed, holding on to the tenuous hope that this time will be different. Until they ultimately fall back into the beckoning arms of greed and self-advancement, and you are left running like a hamster in a wheel that never changes. Thus, to wait for the government to take the lead is a flimsy excuse, revealing far more than it conceals.
Karachi is a travelling city, it dips in and out of wildly different extremes sometimes so at odds with one another it’s difficult to believe you’re still in the same place, the same time. You sit in French restaurants on lazy Sunday afternoons, your order taken by liveried waiters sagely suggesting that your steak ought to be cooked, “medium rare, not medium well, sir, it completely ruins the meat.” You pay the bill for an hour’s meal hefty enough to feed an entire family for a month and walk out into the humid air burdened by yesterdays’ rains and tomo-rrow’s woes and suddenly you enter a world in which a discussion over steak is so inconsequential, you feel ashamed.
Suddenly, there are no perfectly manicured laughs, or French dishes you couldn’t hope to pronounce. There is only a broken road flooded with water and two scrawny little boys wading through it, armed with wipers in a futile attempt to clear the street. They stand, nearly a foot deep in rainwater that has mingled with refuse, and they keep pushing, pushing, pushing, trying to clear a path and failing. Just across the street there is a world in which they have no part, yet it is a world just across the street.
The government has failed to take care of its people, but the wealthy of this country are complicit in that failure, simply through the virtue of the positive impact they can have. They have crafted a city of lies to live in, so that they can sleep soundly in their beds as their air conditioners suspend their rooms in a chill, while the rest of the city is kept up by the blazing heat. They have deluded themselves into thinking that the problems of this city aren’t their problems, but so long as they have the power to help, they are. They must recognize that duty, and, Karachi may truly turn into the “Paris of the East,”- guillotines and all.
Disclamer: The views and opinions expressed in Margalla Tribune are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the magazine, its editorial team, or its publishers. The content provided in Margalla Tribune is for informational purposes only and is not intended as a substitute for professional advice. The magazine, its editorial team, and its publishers will not be liable for any losses, damages, or claims arising from the use or reliance on the information contained in this publication. If you wish to reproduce or share any content from Margalla Tribune, please ensure proper credit is given to the magazine. Margalla Tribune reserves the right to make changes to the content, format, and availability of the publication at any time without prior notice.
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