I am standing near the roundabout at Karachi’s famed Hassan Square, trying to decide if walking in the brutal afternoon heat is a good idea. I haven’t walked the length of this street in over a decade. There is a sign for Mukka Chowk, a roundabout that features a fist, built to commemorate the first prime minister and a symbol of the strength of Karachi’s immigrant population. I stop to stare at my old apartment building. I cross pedestrian bridges; steel traps that I am convinced will one day collapse and send me plummeting to the ground.
Continue to article
No comments:
Post a Comment