Through the dusted light of late afternoon the plane floats down to earth to Jinnah airport in Karachi where I’m picked up by Talha Mufti and swept through the city in a bullet proof car to the hotel. I’m on 13th floor staring across the darkening vista of minarets. Karachi. I say the word to myself as the call to prayer rings out.
Come morning a split egg yolk sun seeps across a lightly toasted sky. At 9am I’m in The University of karachi. It’s vast. It’s like no other university I’ve been to. If there’s conflict in the country there’s conflict at the university. It is highly politicised. There’s seventeen girls and two boys in my workshop. This is the heart, the reason and purpose of my visit. Poetry is at the heart of revolution because revoution is at the heart of the poet and it’s an inspiration to see them inspired, to see them transform into budding writers. The picture taken immediately after the workshop says much about how much we all enjoyed our two ours together.
One of my favourite artworks is a wedding dress made of keyboard buttons. What I want from the students says Durriya is their truth.