A day in the life of a family in Peshawar

I rush to my dad and deliver the absurd news. He is indeed shocked by the news but his expressions say otherwise.

In a dark corner somewhere in Peshawar, I sit in front of my laptop and check my mails.

 My father busily searches for any news he can find on the'so called 'issues' seizing the country, 

A renowned scholar, unusually popular in his late years, has started a “long march.” Stomping from Lahore all the way to the capital of Pakistan, he is able to leave the masses in awe and wonder.

To me, it is just a regular day in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa.

I step outside, to purchase some fresh vegetables that my mother has asked for to cook the evening meal. Racing to the market on my worn out bicycle, I am able to reach within a few minutes. Lucky for me, the shop keepers have just started their discussion about the same ‘long march.’

This does not surprise me at all.

In Pakistan, politics is a vital part of each citizen’s life. Even the people of my place - a rural area that is populated with uneducated people - are aware of what is going on in the country.

This makes me proud; we are not an ignorant, submissive lot!

Despite our never ending problems, we are happy. Yes. We are proud of who we are and, we continue our struggle to help our country progress.

It’s dark inside my house now; all I have is a tiny pen-like torch to help me find my way in. Soon after, my abu calls me down for dinner.

Now, I sit on my cosy cushion-like mattress and my phone beeps. The text message reads:

“The highest court of the country has ordered to arrest Prime Minister on the basis of corruption.”

By pure reflex, I rush to my father and deliver the absurd news. He is indeed shocked by this but his expressions say otherwise.

My younger brother, wanting to be a part of our conversation, innocently asks:

“Has something gone wrong?”

I shoot an answer at him, but he is not satisfied. I, thus, succumb to his plea and narrate the whole story. Convincing my brother is a tedious task; his questions are never ending and I am usually unable to answer most of them.

The electricity, thank God, is back. I turn on the television and watch my favourite channel. The program “Dynamo, Magician Impossible” is on.

Though, at first I see some blurry figures moving about on the screen in extremely slow motion, it quickly changes back to normal. This vicious cycle continues, back and forth. This is due to the lack of signals that causes the video to lag, but we in Peshawar are happy. We have a home, food and family.

I am happy to watch the show now. I’m happy that power is back.