Feka (scratching his head, staring at the puddle-turned-mini-lake in front of his house):
“Ah, Banigala! The land of lush hills and… floating slippers. Where else can you wake up to the soothing sound of frogs croaking in your street because the drainage has turned it into a seasonal wetland?”
He recalls last year’s monsoon, when the rainwater didn’t drain — it simply settled like a VIP guest who refuses to leave. This year, Feka thought, “Enough is enough!” Armed with hope and a pen, he drafted a letter to the Islamabad Capital Territory Administration:
“Dear Respected Authorities,
Kindly apprise me what funds were approved, and in which period, for drainage and street soling in Banigala. Yours faithfully, a humble tax-paying citizen who just wants to walk home without swimming.”
With determination, he posted it via Registered AD Post — because Feka believes in documentation, receipts, and the romance of Pakistan Post. Two weeks passed. No reply. No call. Not even a ‘Your query is important to us’ email.
Feka (thinking aloud):
“Maybe they’re busy… or maybe my letter is being used as a coaster for chai cups.”
Before filing an appeal to the Pakistan Information Commission, Feka decided to check in person. The ICT office welcomed him with a sense of eternal Monday. The Public Information Officer? “Not available.” Instead, a superintendent smiled at him like an old friend.
Superintendent:
“Aray Feka Sahab, Right of Access to Information? Bohat acha lagta hai kitaabon mein. Idhar toh file tab move hoti hai jab chai ki plate move hoti hai.”
Feka (murmuring):
“So… you’re saying the drainage might be fixed after the glaciers melt?”
He spent the day running from desk to desk like a postal parcel with no address. The only thing that flowed faster than the rainwater in Banigala was the tea in the office canteen. Eventually, Feka left — not with information, but with a life lesson: in ICT’s dictionary everything is under the slogan “Coming Soon.”
Now, as he prepares to file his appeal before the Pakistan Information Commission, Feka gazes out at his waterlogged street and says:
“Maybe the frogs will file the next petition. They have more stake in this drainage than we do.”
