The Beginning of Summer

Summer is beginning in our region. Fifteen days ago, in the same park, in the same city, the temperature was 23 degrees Celsius. Now, just two weeks later, it has risen to 33 degrees, and the air carries the warmth of summer. In the state of fasting, this stillness feels even more profound.

This is Islamabad, the capital of Pakistan, where I have spent four years of my life. And when I look back, despite all the fears, worries, and feelings of insecurity, I see that I have passed through these years successfully and safely. For this, all credit goes to the One who protected me from the worst harm at the hands of all the evils of the world and the heavens.
Alhamdulillah!

There is a bird nearby whose name I do not know, chirping close to me. Some crows are cawing at a distance. A dove was singing a sorrowful yet melodious ghazal not too long ago. But the loudest voice in the park is that of the sunlight, which seems to say that perhaps these birds and blooming flowers won’t be able to stay for long in its presence. The sunlight is changing color rapidly.

Due to the lack of rain, spring arrived late this year, and before it could fully bloom, summer is already impatient to take over.

This is the same city whose rains I once loved, and while living in the comfort and luxury of Dubai, I would reminisce about the colorful seasons of this place. But now, these seasons are slipping away too quickly. Even in this city, the trees are beginning to wither in the summer heat due to insufficient rainfall. With months passing without rain, dust starts to gather on the trees and buildings, blurring the difference between this city and others.

A few years ago, I visited Lahore, and its dust and pollution overwhelmed me. Now, Islamabad is beginning to resemble Lahore in appearance. Who would have thought that we would witness a winter where the entire season passed without rain, engulfed in pollution?

I have lived in at least three different regions, experiencing three distinct climates. Now, my heart longs for a place filled with cold weather. I want to spend a few days amidst snowfall, even though I feel extremely cold in winter. Yet, if I never experience snowfall, life will always feel incomplete.

In Pakistan, especially in this city, the seasons change rapidly. The presence of four seasons in a year means four different wardrobes and new footwear every season—a costly affair. It’s not like the UAE, where you can manage the entire year with a few summer pajamas and T-shirts. Here, wearing khaddar in June is out of the question, as even the walls and roofs of houses blaze with intense heat. A one-kanal house with three rooms is of no use because high electricity bills force everyone to huddle in a single room. Even then, earnings here are not enough to afford air conditioning all day; it can only be turned on when preparing to sleep. The rest of the day must be endured in the scorching heat.

The same goes for December and January, when the cold is so severe that even two thick quilts don’t seem enough. By morning, everything feels damp with cold. And we still belong to the fortunate, well-fed households—what must the conditions be like for those who don’t?

So, the reality is that taking a walk in such scorching sunlight while fasting is quite difficult. But sitting in the shade, breathing in some fresh air with peace and tranquility, is not a bad option.