Letter from Karachi: In a too-familiar crisis, signs of life and love
When my city, Karachi, quiets down at night, I often go for a drive by myself, driving slowly, savoring every moment of the few minutes I have in the world outside home.
On my stereo, the same verses from South Asian poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz play each day. The poem, “Intesab,” begins with a dedication:
to this dayandto its sorrowsto the day’s sorrows, cross with life’s overflowing gardenthis thicket of yellowing leavesthis thicket of dying leaves, that is my landthis assembly of anguish, that is my land (as translated by Mustansir Dalvi)I listened to this poem for days in 2014, after the attack on the Army Public School (APS) in the city of Peshawar, where almost 140 children were killed by the Taliban. It understood the grief I had no power to articulate when nearly 100
