They say that unless a disaster affects someone you know, it doesn’t really register in your mind and you don’t understand the intensity of the situation. You watch the breaking news, sympathise with the victims and the survivors, wonder how we ended up like this and after a week or so, we get back into routine. Growing up in a city where violence has become part of our lives, it would be a lie if I said we weren’t a jaded, cynical lot. I personally didn’t know anyone who was killed or injured in the bomb blast at the CID building on November 11, but my brother did. Like countless others before him, my brother’s friend became a statistic in the death toll.

Like hundreds others, my aunt was at the Karachi Gymkhana when the blast occurred. Going to the Gymkhana is part of my aunt and uncle’s daily routine – they go there to walk, a regimen recommended by their doctors. They were in the cricket ground when the blast happened. As clouds of thick smoke rose in the air and dust flew everywhere, hundreds of birds on the trees took flight – adding to the pandemonium that ensued. Treading carefully over broken glass everywhere inside the club and obviously very shaken, my aunt somehow managed to drive home, a good 20 minutes away. She says she will never be able to get that sound out of her mind.

But what of those who were caught in such blasts and saw the carnage? Are they ever able to get that image out of their heads? How long does it take people to lead normal lives again? Each morning I go through a security checkpoint before being allowed into the office premises. As I waited for the security personnel to finish their routine check this morning, I noticed fear and uncertainty written across their faces. When did they sign up for such risky jobs? Being a security personnel means protecting the lives of others, but I can vouch for the fact that hundreds (and even thousands) of security guards around the country took up the job because they weren’t able to find anything else. How many of them wonder if they will make it home that night? Each day as they leave for the job, how many families live in fear, wondering if they will get to see their son/husband/father safe and sound that night?

After the blast there was the usual talk of avoiding crowded shopping malls, grocery stores and basically, any crowded street. Where does that leave the citizens? Living in constant paranoia and fearing for our lives where ever we go? Of course, that heightened sense of insecurity decreases as the days go by and we tend to relegate that incident to the back of our minds, amidst the hundreds of other suicide attacks around the country. Until of course, the next one occurs. Can we ever really learn to live without fearing for our loved ones? Is it even possible to have any semblance of normalcy in the country or will we (involuntarily) continue to live like this?

Amna Khalique is the Features Editor at Dawn.com

The views expressed by this blogger and in the following reader comments do not necessarily reflect the views and policies of the Dawn Media Group.