Howling sirens

The spine-chilling sounds of emergency sirens in Europe used to signify that one had arrived in a country where emergency services were present. We had nothing like that in Pakistan then. The only sirens heard in Karachi emanated from the lone outrider of the president's motorcade (no one else was entitled to even this in the days of yore), or the discreet clanging of the Fire Brigade's bells. Today, all day, one sees and hears little Suzukis darting through dense, non-cooperative traffic, blaring sirens in desperation. Inadequate they may be, but they are the only ones available.

The past years have led to greater fears generated each time one hears this sound. It is no longer just linked with individual medical emergencies. There have been uncountable blasts, devastating, big and small, across the length and breadth of the country. The respite is never long enough to regenerate confidence. Its bread and butter for residents now. A matter of keeping one's fingers crossed; of not being in the wrong place at the wrong time. As London was when the IRA was in full spate.

Deaths, disasters and tragedies are mourned but mischief is abhorred. It is this that has created such intense hatred for those perpetrating these horrific acts. With it comes this feeling of utter helplessness. Leading to despair. The terrorists have made things easier for investigators with the use of suicide bombers. Some part of these psychopathic creatures is always found at the site bringing the investigation to an immediate conclusion. Helpless we may be, but it doesn't stop us from demanding that there should be a perpetual investigation for unearthing the diabolical source of this terror. We need to find that "core" and source the cure.