Minutes before midnight, I sit partly drenched in what appears to be the first absolutely chilling downpour of winters this year. Standing on the roof earlier, under a sky covered neatly in a thick albeit somewhat transparent robe, feeling the breeze lashing against every bit of exposed body, I could have sworn I was in haven. It was simply quintessentially amazing.
As I type this, I can make out from the sounds of rain drops brushing against and making impact with leaves emanating from across outside the window that the downpour has steadily picked itself up. For a brief moment there, almost as if intentionally to give way to rain to steady itself, the breeze died down. If it was not winters and especially in Karachi, for I have said many times before how sick Karachi’s weather is, I would have wasted no time in more closely connecting with the sublime beauty that lay around me.
Before I could even begin typing down the string of thoughts hanging across my mind into another paragraph, the entire neighbourhood plunges into darkness. The ensuing quietude is almost extraordinary, save for the growing footsteps of rain drops and the hissing of the chilly wind running in gusts periodically. Someone in the neighbourhood fires up their generator, the ugly noise coming from which continually taints the beautiful picture. I continue to sit in front of a screen dimly glowing, surrounded from all sides by nothing save darkness. I can hear the rain drops still, the dancing leaves, and the sneezing wind. I close my eyes and despite the generator making itself obnoxiously heard, I can sniff that special aroma that grows out of gardens when they are lovingly sprinkled with water.
Drop after drop, gust after gust, I continue to sense in different ways the emotional outburst of nature.
Libel 