Is the economic turnaround worth it?

Trrrrrn… Trrrrrn… “It must be Omer,” said Afzal Khan to his wife, while fanning his octogenarian mother, who had just dozed after hours of agony. He handed over the hand-fan to his youngest son Bilal, and strode to catch the ringing phone before it was dead. It was a difficult task; he was sitting on the top floor, and to reach the phone he has to cover more than 50 stairs.

But he made it. It was Omer who anxiously enquired why it took him so long. “We all are at the top floor” said Afzal. “Why” exclaimed Omer somewhat unbelievingly, as it was quite late in the night. “Its only there,” told Afzal “where we can have a sigh of relief. There is no electricity here since last 15 days. We can hardly wink our eyes.”

By the time, Afzal’s wife was also there. She snatched the phone from Afzal, and shouted in the phone, “Didn’t I tell you not to come. Good havens, you are not here, otherwise poor Hamza would have been grilled.” Omer remembered that his mother snapped his proposal that he wanted to come to Pakistan during summer. She told him, “I can wait for another year, but don’t want you to languish here. Remain in Europe. You told me its cold in summer.” Omer was so desolate at the misery of his family that he hung up.

The couple went upstairs. Bilal was fanning his mother, while Sadaf, his elder sister, was fanning him, occasionally fanning herself. She was in her MBBS final year. Not affected by the ‘hi dude’ airs of King Edwards’, she was not taken seriously by ultra-mod Bilal. Now he was so obliged at her graciousness that he had tears in his eyes.

Sadaf was thinking of emergency ward of Meo Hospital, where she had lately been on duty. “Is electricity also not there?” she asked herself. Though she was sure it is the case, thinking of emergency ward with no electricity was dreadful. She tried to brush it off with Ait-ul-Kursi.

Afzal took the fans from them, and asked them to sleep. He swayed his fan wide, and both got some air. Their clothes damped with sweat, even hot air was cold for them; soon both were asleep.

“Can I have some water, Son” begged Afzal’s mother. Afzal gave water to her. After taking a few hurried gulps, she said “Son, you study a lot. Tell me about Hell. Would it be hotter than this?” Before Afzal can answer her question, she started, “Earlier, I used to pray that I be there at Sadaf’s marriage, but now I pray to be taken away. I can’t take it anymore. It is too hot. I know one thing: God is not cruel. He knows I am weak. He will have mercy on me. I will be in peace there.” Afzal tried to say something, but she told him to stop fanning her, and have some sleep. “You have to go to office tomorrow” she said. It was 4 in the morning. He felt a bit of cold air. It assured him that now his mother can sleep.

He also tried to have some sleep. This was 16th such night. Electricity was playing hide and seek, most of the time remaining hidden. Not able to sleep, partly because of heat, and partly because of his assumed duty to fan her mother, dark circles have emerged around his eyes.

Soon sun was scratching his face. Not sure how long he has slept, he remembered Director of Schools was coming from Lahore. He hurried to take a bath, water not being a problem as they had a manual pump.

As was the routine, everyone was sitting in the main room. His wife gave him tea. Everyone was complaining about the bland tea. He enquired his wife, “You went to Utility Store. Don’t you find sugar there?” As if waiting for this moment, she snapped back, “They don’t give it to me. All are bastards. They told me to buy grocery worth Rs.500, and than I can buy four kilos of sugar. I did not have money.” “I even went to CSD shop for sugar” she continued.

This sent tremors down Afzal’s spine, as going to CSD meant 100 rupees in rikshaw fare. And that too, without getting sugar. She sensed what he was counting mentally and proudly claimed, “I went there walking.” “Are you crazy? You know it was 51 centigrade yesterday” he retorted with some satisfaction that atleast Rs.50 have been saved. “No, I heard that they have sugar there. So I took risk” she said. Knowing that Afzal is still thinking about the other 50 rupees, she told him that she came back in Waheeda’s car.” Fully assured that 100 rupees have been saved, he said “But don’t do anything crazy again.”

Now it was time to go to school, where he was a headmaster. First he has to deal with Director of Schools. Later in the day, his school teachers had plans to meet Nazim, to request him to ensure electricity for school.

Being an experienced man, he knew what would be the result. Nothing will happen. And he has to spend numerous nights in eyes; fanning his mother; seeing tears in Bilal’s and Sadaf’s eyes. Will there be an end to this?