Stranded Souls, Silent Skies By Khizar Hayat Khan A group of families — children clutching their mothers’ hands, men waving helplessly — stand marooned on a shrinking island of rocks. Behind them, a lone tree bends in surrender. Around them, the Swat River roars — not as a source of life, but a sentence of death. Above them? Silence. No helicopters. No boats. No state. This image is not from a warzone, but from a part of Pakistan that sings in tourism ads and development speeches. Swat, the so-called Switzerland of the East, is now witnessing another tragedy — not just of nature, but of neglect. This photo captures more than a moment; it exposes a pattern. Every year, when rains swell the rivers, the same stories surface: people trapped, children lost, families wiped out. And yet, every year, our response system arrives too late — if it arrives at all. The photo asks a haunting question: Where is the state? We know helicopters exist. We see them often — drying cricket grounds, hov...
Khizr Khan Mohmand In the midst of my journey from Scotland to London for some Work, a friend's call interrupted, inquiring about my well-being. After exchanging pleasantries, he mentioned the arrival of an urgent letter from Me. I teased about the letter possibly containing significant matters, but my friend, not wanting to spoil my London trip, diverted the conversation into lighter topics, causing the letter to slip my mind. A week passed in London, with every night spent pondering over the contents of the letter. Upon returning to Scotland, I rushed towards the letter, already anticipating some form of apology for disrupting my sleep in London. However, upon opening it, to my surprise, atop the page was written "Traffic Police, Scotland." I appeared before the court early the next morning, seeking forgiveness for violating traffic laws. The judge, acknowledging my remorse, fined me £100 andI returned home, making a vow to be more cautious because this wasn't Paki...