Normality and madness

„What kind of hobbies do you have?“

„I like to relax, watch pakistani dramas on TV or go for a picknick with my friends. But did you hear about the bomb blast this morning?“

The blue university bus just overtook a smaller cab as the talk with that girl next to me took an unexpected turn.

„No. what has happened?“

I had been attending university classes, copying the readings and chatting away with class fellows over a tea and a samosa (delicious pakistani food). A bomb blast was new to me.

„I think it was at F.7. But I don't know more about it.“

Islamabad is parted in sectors. As it is a planned city, which was just made to be the new capital for Pakistan in the 60s, every sector has a distinct look. The F-sectors are said to be quite expensive compared to others. They house people with some money and also some offices, like the UN-office, which was attacked by a suicide bomber, how I learned later on that day from the TV. Five people had died. Others were injured.

The streets looked like nothing had happened. Taxis made their way, people walked next to old beautiful trees, normality was joking on the news that seemed so far away. Even here, in the same city. The lives of the people went on. I cared for my university texts and was just starttled on the casuality that the people acted on as if nothing had happened.

One day later, I met a friend for a tea as he had just come back from the kashmiri-region where he had a job-interview. We talked about the interview and about his chances of getting the job. Then he asked me if I had heard about the attack. Indeed, I had.

A friend of him was working in that office. Normally this friend would have been in the office the morning of that attack. He just decided in the early morning to accompany my friend to his interview. This is why he survived. And his collegues died.

Sometimes it is so close. Normality and madness.