A Shivering Woman
By Dr. Ghayur Ayub
Islamabad, Pakistan
Returning from Bari Imam Mausoleum on a cold night, I stopped at a traffic light close to the Presidency, where I saw a woman clad in poor rags sitting on the pavement and shivering like a leaf. I didn’t offer help as she didn't ask for it. I looked at the shiny cars with occupants seemingly enjoying comfortable rides. I looked at her: she was shivering. I turned my head towards the Presidency and saw haphazardly placed barbed wires protecting the gigantic building. I looked at the woman; she was still shivering. I gazed at the symbol of justice just beyond the Presidency secluded by a few more barbed wires. I looked back at the woman, she continued to shiver. I looked up at the cloudy sky hiding heavenly bodies and pouring merciless rain. I glanced at the woman, she kept on shivering. I heard a car behind me hooting horn. I looked at the traffic light; it was green. I looked at the woman, she was still shivering. I moved on, leaving the poor tortured woman behind who must have been someone’s daughter, sister, wife, or mother sitting all alone in that cold night, only a stone throw away from the Presidency and the Supreme Court. There was nobody to help her let alone comfort her; even God seemed to be indifferent. Right at that moment, an analyst in the car radio was analyzing the return of two exiled leaders, Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif while a ruling party politician was bragging what they were doing to protect the country from terrorists! My heart started to ache as I visualized the shivering poor woman sitting on the pavement in pouring rain on that cold, cold night. The road ahead of me started getting hazy as my eyes started filling with tears. I looked up again to the sky and mumbled quietly, ‘What are you doing to this country?’
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