All of July, almost, and no rain! Simply light showers… and motorcyclists slipped by the dozens on the city roads. That’s a way of looking at the weather. In fact, this pleasant grey weather offers the opportunity to reflect on a variety of themes, to meander as it were into smaller thematic lanes and bylanes. As we wait hopefully for rain, I am inclined to begin with thins young man in the office who has been unable to take the casual leave that rainy days would justify him to do so.

Not that he needs the pretext of rain. Individuals like him avail leaves at will, and bother not about need. In this society, such men and women at their workplaces are amazing yet baffling demonstration of what they do with their time, and get away with just about anything else. So this absence of rain has held them back!!

And, in a way, seriously speaking, a citizen commented that just as well it has not rained. It would have been yet another, additional source of a nightmare and ‘hell’ for the city of Karachi. As a city, with that many major roads in a state of repair, or building, or neglect, or forgotten or poor workmanship, it is not a tall order to try and imagine the plight of people. Vehicles too, I may add.

I want to talk of the ‘lovely weather’ (described by one Karachiite) that we are having in the city for the last many days, as it drizzles and light showers gently fall on the bruised city, and its near battered (by KESC also) citizens. But having referred to a case of deplorable workmanship, in passing, I want to illustrate the example of a road that has ‘sunk’ in a very disturbing dangerous manner opposite the Sea View, facing the beach. It is a matter of alarm that this kind of a road has been made in such a posh protected area. There are other residential and commercial areas in Karachi with roads worse than those where the risk to traffic is huge, and horrendous. I have in mind a main road in Orangi No 5 after Banaras Chowk ) that has been in a state which seems to suggest that it has experienced an earthquake. It is truly enigmatic that public opinion, public suffering, public disgust in such cases produce no results. The decision-maker remains unmoved.

But, onto the clouds that hang above, threatening. Among the many ‘threats’ this society faces, is the one from these grey clouds over Karachi. Not ominous enough, honestly speaking. But good enough to have made the weary residents of this humid city feel rested, and relaxed. A friend of mine made a chance remark on Thursday night that this is a city whose weather keeps its citizens forever tired. “We are never feeling fresh, have you noticed?” That’s the down side of weather in town, generally.

But the weather at this time of July-end is kind, benign, and promising too, in a way. It could still rain, and while children are looking forward to it, so are those who would like to take a day off or two or even three. It all depends on how much it rains, and how strong is the motivation ‘not to work’. The Met office, one believes, has forecast above normal, and while Karachiites are yearning for it, paradoxically they are also dreading the prospects. They do not trust the promises and assurances that have been made by the authorities and town nazims that the sewerage system has been fully cleaned, or that the other preparations for the monsoon season are well taken care of.

It has not rained yet, so the distrust or rather the scepticism is central to their attitude. Of course, this pleasant weather is bringing out their best mood, and behaviour. But there are dormant fears, and silent apprehensions. There could be real trouble for the majority of the citizens in the Sindh capital. I have heard some cynical Karachiites (like this man, Masud) who contends that it is just as well that it doesn’t, and has not rained yet. It has protected the utilities, including the KESC, whose chief executive had expressed fears and reservations about what can happen to KESC during monsoons. After all, the KESC is handicapped not just with its existing generation and transmission capacity, but also by saboteurs working within the organisation and outside. The KESC announced this week that there would be no loadshedding, as the demand had declined due to the relatively cool weather now. But the power failures continued. One senior citizen remarked that the KESC had done better because the president was in town.

Come to think of it, Karachi surely deserved a better deal than this one, as far as electricity goes. No one knows who are those who let us down. Come to think of it, Karachiites (and their number is growing) certainly need to have a well-prepared city at least for rain. How well-equipped we are to meet with emergencies and disasters, has been a question mark for all our lives. We live with that state of doubt too.

Rain and doubt, which makes one wonder whether and how much of rain will the city get. There are two more days of July and then there is August. There is a view or a belief that it is around Independence Day that it rains. So let us wait and see.

This is not the first time that one is writing on rain. And this is not the first time that Karachi is feeling good about the kindness of the weather. The problems, the challenges, the frustrations have receded into the background, for a while. How long, we don’t know. These clouds of relief may sail away any day… and the blazing harshness of summer may descend upon us again. So one agrees with those Karachiites who suggest that the people of Karachi should enjoy this weather as best as they can. One colleague described this weather in town as being ‘graceful’… and perhaps this is an apt description… perhaps there is a touch of poetry, too, in the air. In fact, some of the photographs that local dailies have published of families enjoying the mood after light showers (at the Clifton beach), appear picturesque, and like paintings!

But to bring one down to reality was a photograph, in another daily, which showed a minibus with desperate passengers sitting on the rooftop as the public transport vehicle moved on the city roads. And because of the weather, these men seemed to be relaxed, smiling. Or, am I imagining it? I think the thought of rain is clouding my vision!

Pope Pius XII once said that poverty is a sin. And it is because of this sin that Karim Bakhsh Malah committed suicide; he is now free from all worries of arranging a livelihood for himself, his wife and a month-old baby.

Malah, 30, on Friday killed his 25-year-old wife Nooran and Baby Mahnaz before hanging himself in the small, sleepy town of Kadhan near Badin. The jobless man took the extreme step after the three souls had passed a number of days without food.

Psychologists and other experts will have many explanations of Malah’s act. They will call it ‘wild emotional outburst’, a mental disorder that may occur to anybody in any stratum of society. But they also know that there are over a dozen other factors that may lead to taking one’s own life. A broken heart, a loser of legal justice, a man with physical disability and a man or woman sick of family circumstances have all the ‘right’ to commit suicide and let themselves free of mental miseries.

But Malah’s case is different. He committed a sin of being born in a poor family and in a society which could not afford him to live. He was jobless. The state and society had nothing to sustain him and his two family members.

Kadhan’s economy depends mainly on farm labour. I had a chance to spend a day there. With nonexistent industry, people have to go about whatever job they can get. Barring a few people who have some permanent source of income and are thus able to make both ends meet, generally there are two classes: the rich and the poor. Since Malah belonged to the latter one, he had to bear the brunt of utter poverty, hunger and disease.

Malah’s is not a case in isolation. A few months back, a girl from Rohri killed herself because her father did not have enough money to bear expenses of education after she had passed her matriculation with brilliant marks.

The tall claims by our rulers that poverty has come down, illustrating with a growing number of cars and cellphones, may be ‘indicators’ in their own right but where does Malah stand in that structure?

Can our Constitution, political setup and ‘rising’ economic graph justify the death of Malah’s family. It is denial of right to live. Will there be anybody to justify?