Waking up after a long weekend is typically difficult.

Your blanket feels just a bit heavier, your bed a little comfier, and your body – a little weaker.

It makes you think of what you achieved, if anything, over the weekend. Mornings came and went and yet, you did nothing you said you would do. You didn’t wake up early on Monday morning to have halwa puri with your family. You didn’t lie in bed binge watching Netflix. You just let the time pass you by. You sat here, watching the clock, thinking about everything you had to do come Tuesday. The days to come overtook your present. And as always, you let them.

Karachi was half under water for a while this weekend. It’s funny when your city reflects what you feel. The half sunken rickshaws and floating bicycles represent the chaos you feel swimming through the city. It’s as if you’re there half the time, front stroking and back stroking to get to where you need. But then, out of nowhere there’s this big vast wave that takes you under and then, out of nowhere, you’re stuck.

Not floating.

Not sinking.

But swirling.

Swirling into nothingness because you no longer remember which way you were swimming.

You cease to remember how to freestyle or breaststroke or even really float.

So you lay there in the midst of all that water – letting it pull you back and forth. Back and forth.

As you lay silent, numb, feigning existence.