Bombs in Lahore. But bombs don’t explode in Lahore, they do that in Karachi. Karachi’s the unsafe place, not Lahore. Karachi’s got that smooth path or scar tissue on the road outside the Sheraton; Lahore hasn’t any scratches and scabs like that. Bombs don’t go off beneath jewellry stalls in Ichhra and the only people who die violent deaths around Minar-e-Pakistan are the people who’re committing suicide by jumping off it. I mean, everyone goes to Ichhra, and Ramzan’s close so lots of people do a significant bit of shopping before it to get ready. You can’t just go and kill six people like that and send countless more to the hospital between 11 and 12:30 a.m. People are working, running errands, getting ready for lunch, praying Zohr around that time. Lahore is not the place where you look beneath your seat for a suspicious briefcase, Lahore’s the leafy, laid-back city where rain or a car accident is the biggest instigator of a pronounced response to anything…not bombs. Lahore is not confusing like this.

And a delegation of beaming, excited Amritsaris carefully stepping over the border into the city that houses all of their history; breathless with wonder, asking where Aitchison is and whether the canal was in fact the Sutlej and if they’d have to say salaam and walekumsalam and shabakhair to everyone. I feel proprietal, suddenly, watching them walk towards us from their lion-pillared gate, step through ‘Toba Tek Singh land’ and into ‘our turf’. Our land, your land, it’s just a white line on a stretch of concrete, it’s only another country that’s closer to LUMS than my house is. Lahore is their crystal ball, their real-life Scherezade, the place where their history books are born from. I feel proud, proprietal, nervous, wanting my city to please, to awe, to inspire, to leave an indelible kiss on the mouths of their minds.

I wonder what she’s thinking, my city of gardens.

I took this picture yesterday. The weather was just fantastic!

All computers may have been drenched in water today…

Today really was a rainy day, indeed. What did you save for today?

It rained cats and dogs today and I can claim for the cleansing defence took :) the trees are literally glistening , the grass is a vivid green and everything looks rejuvenated .
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Four people are reported killed in two simliar bomb blasts in Azadi Chowk and Icchra. The bombs were timed, and were tied to bicycles. No one’s claimed responsibility for them.

hey Guys! what do you say about today’s weather?

It has not been raining in Wapda Town despite of those thick dark clouds. What about your places?

The best of Lahore Blog featured on Metroblogging network (until now):

• Lahoree Swimming Pool by Darwaish
  The “pool” pictured in this entry by Darwaish is far from your every day pool. But when it is so hot you can’t bear to move, water is water.

• think Basant, think Old-City… by Bilal
  Bilal in Lahore take a different approach to blogging; posting an excerpt from a short story that takes place in Lahore.

• Daewoo Fried Chickens and 10″ foot by Jangli Jagga
  Ah, crumbling public transit structures. There is nothing like an inefficient bus line to ruin your day.
  

In the midst of all the balloonish talk about our conspiracy theories (ssssshhh… to take over this world), on our lahore mailinglist, I feel like a balloon myself. Rather a busted one. But what are the captains’ for? She rightly suggested the song Where Do They Make Balloons by They Might Be Giants. I would rather listen to I’m blue but it’s neither blue, nor has balloon in it:

Marmalade’s from Scotland, Rugs from Pakistan*
Mexico has jumping beans and cars are from Japan
Clowns are from the circus, barking comes from dogs
Eggs come from a chicken and log cabins come from logs

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

New York has tall buildings, New Jersey has its malls
Pisa has a leaning tower will it ever fall
The ocean has the fishes
London has a tower
In Holland they have windmills, lots of banks and pretty flowers

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

Balloooooons. Ballooooons. Balloooooons. Balloooooons

Spaghetti is from China but Italians make it best
Ants can make an anthill and monkeys make a nest
Hungary isn’t hungry
And French fries aren’t from France
Turkeys aren’t from Turkey; they can’t fly but they can dance

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

But where?
Where do they make balloons?

Click the link below for more on conspiracy theories!
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Wasi Zafar is our honorable Federal Minister of Law. Unfortunately, I often read stories about him or his close relatives humiliating and beating people up in public. Like a few months ago, according to this report, his son severely injured a passenger on a PIA flight at Karachi airport in presence of the Minister, airport security and hundreds of passengers. The fault of PIA passenger was he objected to son of Minister passing through the reporting counter without usual security check which infuriated the son of Minister. Apparently that poor passenger didn’t report this matter to police. He must have got children of his own, that

I just noticed Yasir’s Pappu Saeen pictures in the flickr stream…and realised that i dont remember anyone having talked about Pappu Saeen here before. He’s a phenomenon, really. He’s supposedly one of hte fastest dhol players in south asia, but that’s not half of the picture. He does this grand show every Thursday night…this HUGE crowd of people gather round this mazaar, get high on hash that’s circulated freely, and chant and chant. Pappu Sain emerges from a corner, starts playing fast, faster, faster, and devotees of the mazaar start whirling round and round in a small clearing in the middle of the roaring chanting crowd.

It’s …breathtaking. I went there about three years ago, and can still imagine myself back there…its so not something you can forget easily.
(both pictures originally uploaded by yasirhussain. )