Their offices
were perched on the forty-first and forty-second floors of a building in
midtown—higher than any two structures here in Lahore would be if they were
stacked one atop the other—and while I had previously flown in airplanes and
visited the Himalayas, nothing had prepared me for the drama, the power of the
view from their lobby. This, I realized, was another world from Pakistan;
supporting my feet were the achievements of the most technologically advanced
civilization our species had ever known.
Often, during my
stay in your country, such comparisons troubled me. In fact, they did more than
trouble me: they made me resentful. Four thousand years ago, we, the people of
the Indus River basin, had cities that were laid out on grids and boasted
underground sewers, while the ancestors of those who would invade and colonize
America were illiterate barbarians. Now our cities were largely unplanned,
unsanitary affairs, and America had universities with individual endowments
greater than our national budget for education. To be reminded of this vast disparity
was, for me, to be ashamed.
**
In truth, many
Pakistanis drink; alcohol’s illegality in our country has roughly the same
effect as marijuana’s in yours. Moreover, not all of our drinkers are
western-educated urbanites such as myself; our newspapers regularly carry
accounts of villagers dying or going blind after consuming poor-quality
moonshine. Indeed, in our poetry and folk songs intoxication occupies a
recurring role as a facilitator of love and spiritual enlightenment. What? Is
it not a sin? Yes, it certainly is—and so, for that matter, is coveting thy
neighbor’s wife. I see you smile; we understand one another, then.
**
I inhaled and
shut my eyes. There was a mental state I used to attain when I was playing
soccer: my self would disappear, and I would be free, free of doubts and
limits, free to focus on nothing but the game. When I entered this state I felt
unstoppable. Sufi mystics and Zen masters would, I suspect, understand the
feeling. Possibly, ancient warriors did something similar before they went into
battle, ritualistically accepting their impending death so they could function
unencumbered by fear.
