He was late already. Jumped out of his blanket, he was in the street. This
was the third day consecutively that he didn't wash his face before work. He didn't
have time to notice that. His eyes were red and lids swollen.
The bags seemed to become a permanent feature of his face now. Crossed the main road, his bicycle got punctured. He'd had the glimpse that something was just not right. Roads seemed lonely. But he had a big lot to do than figuring out what. Picked up the newspapers. He'd always longed for the meanings in the writings in them -the gusto in them that drove people around him as flies. Lost in those glamorous photos he almost missed a truck. Then, all at once, the juju came to unveil. He stopped suddenly. All of the mighty buildings around were adored in green and white. Oh, how could he forget! A sudden cold swapped through his body. What was he going to do? Nobody was going to come for the newspapers. He was supposed to get food and medicine, another day??? No money, no food for another day! He looked at the pile of newspapers in his hands. He decided to sell them from door to door. He had to have money. Crossed the railway track, he entered the colony.
The bags seemed to become a permanent feature of his face now. Crossed the main road, his bicycle got punctured. He'd had the glimpse that something was just not right. Roads seemed lonely. But he had a big lot to do than figuring out what. Picked up the newspapers. He'd always longed for the meanings in the writings in them -the gusto in them that drove people around him as flies. Lost in those glamorous photos he almost missed a truck. Then, all at once, the juju came to unveil. He stopped suddenly. All of the mighty buildings around were adored in green and white. Oh, how could he forget! A sudden cold swapped through his body. What was he going to do? Nobody was going to come for the newspapers. He was supposed to get food and medicine, another day??? No money, no food for another day! He looked at the pile of newspapers in his hands. He decided to sell them from door to door. He had to have money. Crossed the railway track, he entered the colony.
It was a public holiday. Went gate to gate. Some answered, most didn't. Then, next housing society. The
mighty Sun was slamming on his head. House to house- society to society. He was
able to sell half of his stock. He caught his afternoon breath, sitting on a
footpath, under a tree. He was Happy. Bread, at least?! He pulled out his
garbage sac. Picking garbage wasn't as good a living as it once had been, for
Lahore was apparently cleaner now. He was wandering on the streets. He saw happy kids with
little flags and stamps on faces. Happy kids used to annoy him. They were all
singing and dancing around.
"Hum zinda qoum hain
Pa-inda qoum hain
Hum sub ki hai pechan
Hum subka Pakistan Pakistan Pakistan
Hum subka Pakistan.."
He turned his way home with the weird lyrics echoing in his mind, as the ironic Sun of 'Independence day' set behind him.
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