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When we were little, we used to keep diaries. Diaries where we could pour our hearts out, write whatever we may! Sky was not the limit. Those diaries, we kept locked up and tucked securely away under the pillow, the bed or in the deepest darkest depths of our closets.

Times have surely changed! What was once hidden, is now out in the open – public, for the world to look, enjoy or even recoil in distaste. Superheroes who once relished in the delights of being mysterious; well, that is so over now! Gone are the days when heroines swooned in the arms of her enigmatic knights in tights. Now the lady-love fights side by side her romantic interest. The truest essence of life is change. Change surely means growth. Yet, mystery remains whether it’s is uphill or just the other way around.

Change should be good.. for the better… For that was how it is meant to be… All things bad shall come to pass, such is order of all the worlds, the rule of physics… of nature… or is it?? Not so.. day usually comes after the negritude of the night.. but now it seems that it is only darkness that prevails rampantly.

Is it not a paradox that in this day and age of modernity and enlightenment, the true essence of humanistic society – the intrinsic values of life and property are steadily eroding away. True when we reminisce and walk down memory lane, we tend to romanticize the era that was…, reflecting how our present should be… Surely there is something about our past that keeps us yearning to relive it all over again or something in the present is undeniably amiss. Indeed those were the good old days when people could actually venture out, have picnics at Hawksbay without the dread of being mugged, getting the divine Kaybees ice cream cone late in the night, which doesn’t even taste as good anymore!

A lifetime spent playing outside on the streets with the soft wind playing quaint little games with my hair, while bhaya (older brother) yelling vociferously of not being clean bowled by mohalla’s (neighbor’s) ace pacer. Oh yes, our curfew – the sound of the loudspeaker: Maghrib Azaan. Scurrying back home before my chacha (paternal uncle) could spot us loitering outside on his way to the mosque. Children stepping outside in the evening to play is a notion, now long forgotten, what with the dire state of affairs of the country and all-pervading fear gripping the city of Karachi.

Humanity is slowly ebbing away from the denizens of land of the pure, replacing it with detached silence bordering on a selfish callousness. Point in question: a man trapped in a building on fire some time ago, fell to his eventual death as his completely charred hands could not hold on to the railing any longer. His potential saviors – hundreds of them looking on, taking pictures of the ‘dreadful’ situation. Not one of them had an inkling of saving him?

A suicide attempt was foiled by a courageous security guard in Dubai, a couple of months ago. How? The woman  jumped off from the window, ignoring the guard’s pleas… so what does the security personnel do… He becomes a human shield. Both got hurt but the woman survived!

My point… what exactly is the lesson of the story… some say it’s saving a life; I say… it’s realizing its value.

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