Photos by Mohsin and Text by The Karachi Walla.
Red bricks. Fallen leaves. Blossoming Amaltas. Rusting garden tools. Green hedges and winding ditches. Date palms pregnant with sweetest of dates. Disappearing paint on the canvas of a backyard wall. A secret window full of promises. Radiant bloom of evergreen bougainvillea. Cracking sound of jammed backyard door opening. Tall eucalyptuses bending at the top and making a canopy over the alley. The silence of fallen leaves turning into rhyming chords when you make your way past them.
Such settings are found here, there, everywhere. Why is it that they are valued when they disappear? behind uninspiring concrete and artificial plants. beneath export quality wallpaper and imported tiles. transforming into layers of town-bred theatricality.
It happens because we have corrupted our souls with the artifical ways of defining our selves. Simply Beautiful! Hats off to the writer and the capturizer.
Regards,
Tabinda Mumtaz
where is this place? I could sit here and write a poem or two.
Apologies. This place is bit far from Karachi. Nawabshah to be exact. And it has disappeared behind uninspiring concrete now