No Hats on Sunday

Akif Rashid asks Albert Camus why so many people around him are unhappy and confused, and what to do about it.

- Akif Rashid

I tend not to live by very many adages, but I am inclined to a witticism once in a while. One of the lines close to my heart is by Henry James: “I’ve always been interested in people, but I’ve never liked them.” And to be foolishly honest, few people are as interesting and unlikeable as my fellow citizens of Pakistan. Because of this, I’ve developed quite the habit of people watching (it’s okay as long as you don’t use binoculars; that is frowned upon). In fact, just the other day, I was roaming around a shopping mall in my monopoly man top hat, pretending to be richer than I am, when I saw one common feature amongst the madding masses: No one really seemed to be happy. Whether they were coming out of a cinema, buying a nice winter jacket, or going into a food coma in McDonald’s, most people seemed to carry a shy scowl. How could time with friends and family lead to such discontent? Were their pants too tight? Was the McFlurry machine broken? Well, if I had to hazard a guess, I would think it’s a common condition of most Pakistani folks that we, as a people, have a shattered sense of identity.