Stories about rain

The only reality in a world of make-believe

They say if you look at a person long enough, they will look back. It was a cold winter night. The kind where frosted beams of moonlight ascend as an enchantress and cast a spell with a mystical silver wand. Cool air driving away heat faster than bodies could replace it. The whole world slowed down under flossy, dove grey skies and people wrapped their arms tighter, pulling shawls, coats and themselves a little closer. Breaths became visible, almost tangible, under sporadic streetlights, as late autumn leaves crunched like sugar under hurried steps. The carnival crowd kept flowing in waves closer ...

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What is the language of rain?

Like all mutinies, it begins as a whisper in the air. The sky turns tar-black as the dark clouds, ominous and threatening, negotiate an evil conspiracy… A coup against the sun. I hear a tapping on the window, announcing a much awaited arrival. Rain floats in gentle waves, as if gravity is a soft music from the Earth, a sweet seducing serenade. People run for cover; umbrellas are opened, temporary shades are sought, as the clouds spit out their beads of water. Puddles begin plinking, as the drops huddle in groups. Monsoon dew dances on the darkening pavement, as I hear the murmuring ...

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If Lahore couldn’t handle the rains, what hope does Karachi have?

Karachi has a love-hate relationship with the monsoon season. While Karachiites long for rain throughout the year, we shudder at the very thought of prolonged downpour, flooding, destruction and power outages that are inevitably associated with it. The last time this city truly got to enjoy the rainy season was during Mustafa Kamal’s tenure, when despite drains heavily clogged with rainwater – especially the Gujjar Nala and Neher-e-Khayyam – alternate drainage arrangements were made and the citizens were spared the entire rain-related trauma. Things are much, much different now. With monsoon rains that are imminent and expected any day now, infrastructure ...

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Pixie Palace was her jail, and she was carrying a new prisoner

The white tombs that encircled the humble city of Kalazar were silent. Every single inhabitant was quiet. The leaves on the wych elms resisted the wind. And under the blue sky, a sparsely dressed ‘pixie’ wandered. She had been wandering for a long, long time; as long as her sane memory stretched. Unbeknownst to her, a little heart beat inside her womb, calling for attention. It was a faint, unwanted beat. The superior would have had her publicly shamed for renouncing the blessed beat. But how could they know? They had never wandered the white tombs, had never traded honour for ...

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Aslam’s home outside of home

The sun shone brightly in an almost cloudless sky, the wind also inexistent. Sweat soaked him to his skin as Aslam prowled through the noisy, exuberant, bustling crowds in the bazaar. There was a time when Aslam’s energy vied with that of the bazaar, but lately, he didn’t feel quite so energetic. Where once he spent hours bargaining with costermongers, now he purchased at the first price they told him. Everything that he once enjoyed, now only wearied him. He didn’t know getting older would be so tiresome. Today also, like every other day these days, he felt tired, and ...

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“So, what’s Pakistan like?”

The old man had the most startling blue eyes, the kind that glittered in a wizard-like way. He was a contractual worker fixing some room in the building where I work, and I met him in the kitchen over my morning coffee. He asked where I’m from and widened his eyes. He didn’t comment on how good my English is, but how American my accent is (which I take no offence or pride in – it’s not the two years of Master’s in St Louis but all those American movies and TV shows I watch). And then he asked me ...

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“There will be no Eid here. Eid makes no difference to me”

“Eid makes no difference to me. I only wait for rain.” He answered. Standing under a rare tree shade Ali Murad Sathio waited for his turn to get water from the pump. Yes, it was true. He did not care for Eid – or any event, for that matter. It had been a few years since he stopped caring. Still, whenever someone mentioned Eid, his thoughts travelled back to the fateful Eid days, three-years-ago. His beautiful mother had prepared him for Eid day. She had managed to cook one sweet dish which was as delicious as the nectar of the heavens. Or at least that was how ...

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So you think cinnamon cream-cheese rolls are difficult to make?

I had just gotten done with my exams, on an endless rainy morning ,when I came across the idea of cinnamon cream-cheese rolls on Pinterest. I saw the lovely photos and decided that I had to make this right away! This is the perfect thing for a lazy weekend breakfast because it is easy and quick to make, and tastes absolutely great as well. My rolls don’t resemble perfectly smooth roll-ups, because the bread that I used didn’t have exact square pieces, therefore I had to improvise by trying to trim the crust off neatly. I failed miserably and somehow forgot to dip the ...

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Because Sobho is gone…

When next the rain strikes Sindh, And that longed for fragrance rises, With Sindhu dust and Sindhu water, Mingled in love; We will know for certain, Sobho is gone.   For the fragrance will be diminished, However slightly, And we will know then, The angle of the rain drops. Striking Sindhu, Altered in their descent, By nano degrees, Because Sobho is gone.   And All Sindhis know, That he held for them, That un-gilded glue. That Mother Lode of Sindh, Kneaded into his voice, Making each son, Each daughter, Of shining Sindh, Also Sobho’s ...

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Soggy rains and crunchy okra pakoras

We have had some rainy days in Karachi but, while I was there, they were always welcome and for some reason just very ‘happy’ – I call it ‘happy rain’. We would go out in our clothes and get drenched and love it. There was something liberating about the rain, maybe it was freedom from the constant 35 degree weather in the summer and the oppressive humidity. And that it washed the dusty hot city clean – though I can’t say the knee deep puddles and traffic jams as a result were enjoyable. Nevertheless, rainy, hot days laced with the ...

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