The place we call the market — all those workplaces and everywhere business is happening — is not a place of love or romance. There is no such thing as love of God in the marketplace. The market has no religion and no sentiments; it is brutal and cut-throat. At every corner of the market, there is ongoing competition between everyone.

You are competing with colleagues and bosses, and even someone closest to your heart becomes your competitor when we are in the market. In the modern world, the entire globe is a market, and as they say, the market never sleeps and it never forgives.

In such a market, you meet a poetess who is a boss and DG of Intelligence and Customs & Excise of the then government. Many times I visited to present some ads to her, and her politeness and smile didn’t match the seat she was holding. Rarely do government officials of that stature hold that kind of humility.

The humility, to my understanding, does not suit the market, as the market is ruled by the laws of the jungle — kill or get killed.

I was not very much aware of her poetic work, yet she was famous and influential. Later in life, I got to read a lot of her poetry and the depth of her immaculate thoughts.

The romanticism of poetry and art and the market, where there is trade and transaction — both together — is a lethal combination. Nature, however, remains mysteriously brutal (the word generally used for nature is not brutal but just — “just” is comparatively a softer word). Nature has its own schemes and strategies. Either nature lets lethal combinations thrive and grow, or makes them extinct. It is the choice of nature, unknown to humans.

Parveen Shakir later died in 1994 in a road accident in Islamabad. The journey of fragrance ended on the way.

Such many people I have interacted with — some of them are still holding prominent positions in their respective industries. Some interactions were very short but eventful.

In those days, for some event, I was sent to deliver a packet to one of the living legends of poetry, Ahmed Faraz. Yet it was only two minutes of talking, but his way of speaking was like music to the ears. I still remember his humble attitude, kind smiles, and gentle words.

Such was my life — the rain, the raincoats, the bike, and visits all around for work, home tuitions, and studies. The wandering never ended, and the search for the unknown continued.

In the parliamentary form of democracy, the power and major finances are held by the centre. The central government is all-powerful — at least it was in 1994 in Pakistan — and someone told me in those days that the government is the biggest buyer and seller even in the capitalist world.

If the government sells its assets cheaper and buys things expensive, the government always remains poor. Those were some lessons learned at that time.

The above thesis was made to elaborate a fact that the capital city at that time was not the same as it is today. The whole landscape has changed, and it looked a bit like an industrial city. It was just a city of government employees and some landlords from other cities. The advertising agencies, as I have mentioned before, were all surviving only on government-sector business.

The government-sector advertising business is routed through a department called the Press Information Department. Every transaction of government business is approved by the Press Information Department, and it is the same even today.

In our office, Arshad was a bridge between the agency and the Press Department. A slim and young guy with trimmed moustaches, he was highly active and productive. He taught me the art of getting things done from lower staff in the government sector rather than going to high-ranking officials.

The journey goes on!