When Rain Writes Destiny

Karachi’s Dawn Between Storm and PrayerA Wednesday Whisper | Reflection 33السلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته

This morning I bow my head and lift my heart in prayer that the sun rising today scatters blessings like unseen petals upon our paths. May this dawn unfold with joy that is light on the soul and health that stays loyal to the body. I pray for mornings that are not only happy but also happening, alive with the pulse of opportunity, laughter, kindness, and renewed strength. May every breath we take today come laced with gratitude and every step we walk lead us closer to peace, prosperity, and purpose.

Yet even as I pray for such serenity, my city woke up soaked in chaos. Yesterday Karachi was not a city but an unwilling ship tossed about in relentless torrents of rain. Streets transformed into rivers where cars floated like helpless paper boats, and humanity was reduced to waiting, cursing, and shivering in stranded vehicles. I saw Gulshan drown under 170 millimeters of merciless water, while Nazimabad, Jinnah Terminal, and Surjani Town gasped for relief under their own measured floods.

In Gulistan-i-Jauhar, tragedy arrived without knocking, toppling a home and silencing three innocent lives in one cruel instant while two clung desperately to breath. In Orangi Town a child no taller than my knee met a wall that fell heavier than fate, and in North Karachi the invisible current of electricity snatched away a man’s final moment. Malir too did not stay quiet, where fire leapt up at a petrol pump and consumed a body whole, leaving behind ashes as its testimony. And while death prowled freely, our connectivity faltered, our power betrayed us, and our schools shut their gates to silence the laughter of children.

This is not simply news to be measured in millimeters and death tolls. It is a reminder that we are a fragile people building fragile cities on fragile foundations. We drive over potholes and ignore the drains that clog like the veins of an old man’s heart until the next deluge brings cardiac arrest. If we are to survive these floods not as victims but as survivors, we must first change our relationship with the city.

We must demand drainage that does not choke, power systems that do not collapse at the first strike of water, and leadership that walks the streets not only when television cameras glow. We must learn that the rain is not our enemy but our negligence is. Until we face this truth, Karachi will remain a city drowning in its own forgetfulness every monsoon.

And so I end today’s reflection not with despair but with a prayer. O Lord of the heavens, protect us from calamities that crush the spirit before they break the body. Grant us resilience that bends but never shatters. Bless our homes with safety, our streets with order, our hearts with patience, and our mornings with hope that refuses to die.

May your morning be as radiant as the first light after a storm and may your day unfold like a garden that never tires of blooming.

Have a great day to you.

Good Morning

Mani

Tuesday, 20th August 2025

The post When Rain Writes Destiny appeared first on Usman Amans Lounge.

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Published on August 19, 2025 14:11
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