Dear Government,
I hope this letter finds you in good health! I am absolutely delighted to have this opportunity to extend my heartfelt gratitude towards my beloved hukmaran, who have continued to extend their kindness to us even in such a perilous time. The world as we witness it today is seeping into uncertainty with each passing day — inflation, unemployment, genocide, and freedom of speech unofficially yet subtly repealed — you have served us beyond what the current world leaders have ever achieved to do so.
Firstly, you have made sure that hope — the very thing that haunts the western world today — remains abandoned and forsaken for us as well as for our generations to come. For if we hope, we grieve. We grieve what could have been, forgetting what we have.
As a Karachiite, I witness such a phenomenon every day. We do not have hope for a better future. Instead, we fight for life every day, hoping to stay alive every time we step outside, sailing into the unknown where our journey is bombarded with various obstacles: open potholes, mobile snatching, the never-ending traffic, and the rough terrain, which, if one is not mindful, might lead to unknown terrains, which are more or less equally petrifying as the known ones are. And in all this, we find relief and gratitude in our survival, cherishing it daily, a privilege few in the world share. And what is a fulfilled life without gratitude?
The adventures of my city prevail and persist even in the vicinity of my own home. Gas, electricity, and water shortages, as well as dust from a city at the edge of its ruin, are long-living residents of the house I reside in. I am pleased from the bottom of my heart by such worries, as they help me to practise patience and jugaad and, most importantly, distract me from the misery a good life offers, for it is a puzzle challenging for and unlikely for the ordinary citizens of my country to achieve.
Secondly, a lot of luxuries that the Western world is afflicted with have been rendered irrelevant. For instance, I do not require fancy mud masks or other various skin-care potions, as Karachi’s dust works a miracle quite similar to multani mitti yet remains free of cost; all one has to do is go out for a walk (if one is blessed from the heavens above with a walkable road). Furthermore, the infamous roads are perhaps the greatest marvel that this city possesses. If I ever go on a voyage to my uni, the journey provides ample opportunities for the bones in my body to undergo spinal adjustments, with force on certain spinal joints that I’ve never felt before, allowing me to gain these very refreshing benefits without ever needing a chiropractor.
These services from my hard-earned tax money extend beyond the major city I preside in. Every winter, Lahore is engulfed by smog, leaving its inhabitants to catch their breath from work or school as they are restricted to their homes. The ever-developing city benefits not only the people but also the politicians who have used the city’s advancement as an exhibition of their capability.
Lastly, looking at how my tax money is being spent (solely on major cities), I can’t help but be eternally grateful for the government who, amidst all the criticism by the woke inhabitants of mycountry, continue with sheer resilience — and much more money in their pockets — to make Pakistan a country that has openly embraced its misery, a nation whose fate remains a unique craft of its own.
I pray that God never blesses such an establishment in any nation, so we and only we can marvel at and cherish them every day until they are eventually blessed with much more of what they have done to us and for us.
Regards,
An Unworthy and Ever-Irrelevant Taxpayer