1st March, 2017
I love this photograph, for it shows perfectly the paradox that is Islamabad.
There is gray, and there is blue. There is sun, and there is rain. There is nature, and there are concrete skyscrapers. The city in its entirety seems to be constructed out of gray, stale cement. Yet lurking between lanes are trees and flowers, to create for great irony. The city on the outside, seems devoid of emotion. Yet, creeping within every street, are smiles and cries which albeit muffled, are loud and audible. Islamabad is a poem, a most complex one to decipher.
But I’ve learned that all poetry is essentially beautiful.