During my childhood, going to my Nana’s house meant my Uncle taking us to Karachi Broast, and, feeding us till we had not the will, nor the power to move breath or even think. Since then I have always been a fan of Karachi Broast and never let any opportunity get by to eat it myself, feed it to my friends or recommend it to others.
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ouch… it really was a cold day today. Well, maybe not that cold but windy for sure. And that’s what made it even colder. And I don’t even feel cold usually, cuz I have spent last few winters at the coldest of places. But I felt a little cold tonight. Enough to put on a cotton shirt over a tshirt. and normally i end up sweating when i put on more than one layers of clothing. but tonight the wind broke my armor and striked right onto my body, as if I was standing at the sea shore with no shirt on. Hope I dont get sick.

Good thing its a long weekend. I’ll try not to go anywhere for too long.

Sometime ago I had the pleasure of spending an evening with our Man in the Uniform , the suave Mr. Musharaf . As I passed the shrimp sauce , I asked him , what bout poverty Sir ? . He smiles . Says he’s seen poorer rich . Im like …ummm.. Ok .. so … ?? He seemed more interested in his food . I refrained from saying anything and that was the end of that . But his smile reminded me of the time when I wrote something about beggars in Karachi . You see , as someone who has grown on the streets of Nazimabad , I know for a fact that the beggars of Karachi are the choosers . They choose to Beg and live a life of luxury .Let me share with you an excerpt from that published piece ..
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The latest news that has Karachiites talking is the proposed move of the US Consulate from its present location on Club Road to an amenity plot in Clifton near Karachi Grammar School, and in the vicinity of a number of other universities, schools, and more low-profile consulates and embassies. The idea has everyone up in arms and rightfully so - first up, they’re taking away an amenity plot that should be used to build something constructive Karachiites can actually benefit from. Secondly, shifting the Consulate to a high traffic area makes no sense - it endangers not only the hundreds of students who use both public and private transport to get to their institutes, but the Consulate itself since it would be virtually impossible for the area to be secured. Ideas like these often make me wonder whether the City Government went through a nuclear holocaust and the city is being run by a bunch of untrained monkeys. The ideal solution would be for the Consulate to shift to a location on the outskirts of the city, where, among other things, complete security would be available. Will the Government listen? Will Clifton residents go on a hunger strike? Will sanity finally prevail? Only time will tell.

I got home from work a little early today so I got a chance to offer Isha prayers in the mosque. One thing I noticed was that most people were under the weather and coughing and sneezing was common among the worshipers.
The thing is, you can’t really blame the people. The weather changes so abruptly in here that you can’t just predict it. Everyone had packed the warm clothes and were ready for spring, or summer if you will, but here comes another cold wave bringing with it flu and cold.

Be careful, friends. Keep your warm clothes handy and don’t eat carelessly. Spring might be just around the corner but it is not here yet.

For the first time in years I had to wear something over my extremely light cotton shirt because this year Karachi actually had a winter. And then, just as we were getting ready for a long, warm, humid and semi cloudy summer things changed.

First thing in the morning, my computer mouse made that strange creaking noise that it only makes when a fresh carpet of powdered dust settles on my computer table. Something had changed. The winds had blown from the wrong direction and a cloud of dust had descended upon the city.

The weather changed from warm, windy and humid with adequate sunshine to cool, windy and dry with strong piercing sunshine within one day.

Can anyone even ever understand the weather here at all?

One used to remember Sindhi Muslim Co-operative Housing Society (SMCHS) as the place to get yummy falooda, milkshakes and kababs from Bundu Khan. Despite the addition of newer restaurants like Nando’s and Biryani Centre, SMCHS now only brings one word to mind = traffic.

At any time of the day, you’ll see a long line of cars, rikshaws, taxis, and occassionally even trucks from the SMCHS traffic signal extending all the way down to the Tariq Road roundabout, popularly known as the Allah wali chawrangi. So while being stuck in traffic, waiting patiently for the signal to turn a blissful green, one does many things to pass the time, a list of which follows:

1: Making up excuses to tell boss why one is late in case boss decides to show up early at the office for a change.

2: Count the number of boys selling bouquets and gajras.

3: Wonder if you have enough time to leave your car stuck there, get a milkshake and run back.

4: Look at the Pathans having their breakfast at the cafe next door and wonder why people can’t donate more instead of spending cash on Gucci bags and Rolex watches.

5: Curse all the politicians, with special curses reserved for the PM and President in case they decide to land in Karachi and make life even more miserable.

6: Plug in your headset in your cell phone (if it has the Radio option) and realize Barry White is playing on 89 for the millionth time.

So the next time you’re stuck at Sindhi Muslim, make sure you have lots of snacks, a book and some loose change packed.

the thing i like best about karachi is that you can never go hungry. no matter what time of the day it is.

you will always find some place open and serving something.

dhabbas start serving breakfast right from the dawn. then your standard fast food resturants start opening from noon. by evening almost everything is open and waiting to feed the inhabitants. this feast continues well beyond mid-night.

I remember eating kabab roll from a place at zamzama at 4 am. And it was made fresh.

Not to mention all those places at boat-basin where you can get anything you can think of.

I’ve always maintained that living in Karachi can spoil you for life. Some find the sheer lawlesness frightening, others find it exhilarating. Only the latter can actually enjoy living in this glittering, mad city.

To me Karachi is that twinkle in the eyes of my uncle when he gets to drive at frighteningly high speeds along a pothole-filled road. It’s in the knowing grins of people, from the dirt-poor to the filthy rich, when they see a huge pink billboard with a valentine’s day message on it. It’s in the soundless but constantly moving lips of the wrinkled old lady praying at the Ghazi Mazaar. It’s also in the miniscule pieces of windshield glass scattered on unsuspecting blind corners of roads. It’s in the blood of the man who was gunned down for telling the truth, the man who sells bun kababs in a street corner.

It’s like a terminal disease, this place. The very threat to your mortality that goes hand in hand with living here makes you appreciate every second you’re alive. It’s running in your viens and when you die, it will spill onto the streets, mingling with all the others.

The plane landed at 20:35 on the 6th of June 2003. I was back in Karachi. After spending my life in Khuzdar, Quetta, Islamabad and lastly GIKI I was finally in Karachi.

I remembered Karachi from early school memories. I remembered Karachi as the treat that we were given during the holidays, when we came thundering down to the city that was always cooler in the summers, and warmer in the winters, than wherever we were coming from. My memories about Karachi were a collection of fulfilled childhood desires. Karachi was one big bag of candies and no cousins to share with.

Coming to Karachi in 2003 meant the beginning of my real life. I was ready to find a job and see what the 9 to 5 meant in real conditions. I was looking forward to learning about the city’s many flavours divided on the basis of geography, language, religion, social class, education, ethnicity and what not. I was ready to learn life and school was in session.

After spending one and a half year in Karachi I have been overwhelmed by the city. The inconsistencies and contrasts are unimaginable. There is an enthusiastic optimism about the future along with a desperate desire to forget past violence. There is a growing sense of civic pride in the city along with a feeling of helplessness at not being able to change things.

Karachi slowly grows on its citizens; Karachi grows onto people and people grow onto Karachi. In the end the city changes you and you change the city. That is what Karachi is, an amalgamation of millions upon millions of cultures, thoughts and feelings. Karachi is a state of mind as well as a state of being.

Welcome to the Karachi MetroBlog.