An expanse of roads, traffic, pot holes and fumes. Thats what Karachi has become. Every day I travel from one end to the other, not ever getting used to all that seems unnatural. Tonight I got caught in the melting pot which I believe was the old landmark Regal Chowk. At least one neon sign pointed that out to me, as I tried to figure out which way the buses, cars, motorcycles seem to be headed. Nothing made much sense.

And as I tried to inch out of confusion, my mind wandered how the scenes must have changed. How noise and extreme traffic have probably nibbled away at the memory of Karachi as it was once in the minds of many. Where are the tea shops, where poetry and discussion could take passion to revolution? Where are the wide roads, where people could walk and greet friends and strangers on the way? Where, did the light, the very special light that belongs only to Karachi vanish? Now the buildings have no color, they are covered in dark pollution, with garish reflections from overwhelming traffic. And as times goes on, the moments become fewer and fewer, where glimpses of the past shine through. Does it matter that one day they will all be gone?