Coming back from Bari Imam Mausoleum during a cold night, I stopped at traffic light close to the Presidency, where I saw a woman clad in poor rag, sitting on pavement and shivering like a leaf. I didn’t offer help, as she didn't ask for one.

I looked at the shiny cars with occupants seemingly enjoying comfortable rides. I looked at her she was shivering. 

I turned my head towards Presidency and saw haphazardly placed barbed wires protecting the gigantic building. I looked at the woman; she was still shivering.

I gazed at the symbol of justice just beyond the Presidency secluded by a few more barbed wires. I looked back at the woman, she continued shivering.

I looked up at the cloudy sky hiding heavenly bodies and pouring merciless rain. I glanced at the woman, she kept shivering.

I heard a car behind me hooting horn. I looked at the traffic light; it was green. I looked at the woman she was still shivering.

I moved on, leaving the poor shivering woman behind who must have been someone’s daughter, sister, wife, or mother sitting all alone in that cold night, only a stone throw away from Presidency and Supreme Court. There was no body to help her let alone comfort her; even God seemed indifferent.
Right at that time, an analyst in the car radio was analyzing the return of two exiled leaders, Benazir Bhutto and Nawaz Sharif and a ruling politician was boasting what they were doing to protect the country from terrorism.

My heart started paining as I visualized the shivering poor woman sitting on the pavement in pouring rain in that cold, cold night. The road ahead of me started getting hazy as my eyes started filling with tears. I looked up again to the sky and mumbled quietly, ‘What are you doing to this country?’