People selling things on the traffic signal, traffic rush, city with churches and mosques ………isn’t this all sounds pretty familiar or say pakistanish? , But its not………………….Dozens of men and women selling, bread, tissue papers, biscuits etc etc on the traffic signal as if you are moving through a grocery store…… hours and hours of waiting in traffic jams,……. churches of every god-dammit type (mehodist to catholics to “Lambs of god” to 12 apostles and jehovahs) and mosques of Ahmadis and other sects…….and above all you being treated as a white man, one can easily say Pakistan is doing quite fine. But that was just the space around. The real…

As if summoned by the tribal witchdoctors chanting some ancient voodoo call, the majestic rain army comes down with all its pride, sounds and fury……. The big palm trees shivering in fear just by the sound of these tiny soldiers …the Commander in chief totally in control of His army…..the water-brigade totally in sync with the wind battalion and the thunder snipers ………..rivers of dead rain soldiers flowing everywhere with the same gruesome dignity fulfilling their motives of momentary life. A big thunder strike and I found myself woke up in utter darkness, with the rain soldiers still dancing and laughing, rushing towards their own end….….. Whatever it was….. a…