Karachi: Photographs by Sheheryar Hasnain

[one of the most eloquent...and nostalgic...essay on karachi by friend sheheryar hasnian....and some incredible photographs of karachi at his website - t]

When I think about Karachi, it is with the sensory overload of childhood: the smell of agarbati and lobaan as I stroll past hawkers and mendicants on the seaside. The snarl of pie dogs as I wander the streets with friends, searching for a patch of grass to play cricket on. The early morning songs of koels, the azaan, the clatter of pots in the courtyard below. The orange sun impossibly big and laddu-like as it sets over the spires and peaks of Mohatta Palace. And inside, the closeness of mothers and aunts - the clack of tasbees, the smell of mustard oil on their fingers. The Flamingo Pan and Juice Shop, where we bought bhel puri and cigarettes, the musky fragrance of guava hanging heavy like decay in the air. The choke of kerosene heaters and burning garbage from squatter camps. Wedding shamianas fluttering in the breeze. The slap of chapals in the stairwell.

[click on the heading for the essay and the photo galleries]