Pulling the Reins on 2015
Karachi Scribbles VI Many, many years ago, time used to be slow. Like an old goods train that ran on coal, chugging forward at an agreeable pace and sometimes breaking down, creaking to a stop, catching its breath, letting everyone else pause for a bit too. I can still recall the phrase “I’m bored” – but barely; a time when when computer applications were restricted to Paint and that mines game which I never understood but continued to play; when the summer days would stretch in front of us in languid luxury, the total number of TV channels under the count of five, when there was actually so much time that I would do my summer vacation homework: which was to buy stickers of fruits and vegetables and paste them neatly in ‘scrapbooks’ (the term scrapbook had a different meaning then – multicolored pages inside an ugly cover of a thin notebook), not exactly an exercise of critical thinking. I mean seriously. Fruit stickers? We had so much time we would make up races like