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This blog and its posts are original works of the authors. Readers, please refrain from plagiarism.
It was raining hard. So hard that the visibility had lessened to 50% normal. Our car zoomed past puddles, making waves and spraying water on already drenched people on foot and into rolled down car windows. Sorry, we muttered. With my camera ready I was looking forward to shooting some heart wrenching scenes of Thatta camp cities on the first day of Eid. ‘Damn this rain! It will ruin everything.’ Two hours down the road we reached HANDS Thatta office. Inside the meeting room we were briefed about the situation there, how the organization was managing the catastrophe, the donations, the rations given, the victims; almost everything was discussed. I was impatient. I wanted to shoot. The teams had been working tirelessly they said and at times for 24 hours at a stretch. There were 300 camp cities across Sindh, they added, giving shelter, food and health care to 65000 people. I was awed, my impatience gone. What have I been doing? The rain had turned the earth into jello. Slip...
(This is a lengthy story based on actual facts. Episodes will be posted over a span of a few weeks. There are going to be NINE episodes in total. Enjoy!) Episode – 1 A dark haired, tall woman with exquisite features and a flawless complexion walks in a queue to board her plane. She looks impatiently at an old man in front of her moving inch by inch. “Damn these wrinkled creatures!” She mutters under her breath. Finally her turn comes and she hands over her boarding pass to a man. She over takes the old man, her heels clicking as she treads quickly in the tunnel towards the airplane. She gracefully sits in her spacious passenger seat in the First Class cabin and notices a little boy sitting next to her. “Great! First the old buffoon and now this boy will make my flight miserable.” She thinks irritatingly. Maheen is 25, with apparently no interest in children or old men. The plane taxis and takes off. The seatbelt sign is still lit. It feels to her as if somebody is ja...
Tringgg tringgg! Tringgg tringgg! The alarm clock on her bedside table rang. She turned in her bed and hit the snooze button. Her eyes still glued shut with sleep dust. Nine more minutes passed in silence. A bird chirped, a motorcycle passed by on the empty street where her house was. Tringgg tringgg! Tringgg tringgg! This time her body jerked awake. Her hand which was still on the table, hit the clock again, but the clock fell and rolled away, still emitting the annoying sound. “Aaggghh!” She exclaimed sitting up on her bed, her feet dangling a few inches off the floor. She went through her morning routine of ironing her clothes, brushing her teeth, taking a bath, brushing her hair and finally applying kohl in her dark eyes, the only makeup that she ever wore. She gulped down a glass of lassi and took a banana to eat on her way to the bus stop. Slowing her walk to a stroll, she let the fresh morning air evaporate the beads of sweat on her forehead and upper lip. Going thr...
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