I was recently in Lahore for some fieldwork towards my PhD and I can tell you what everyone else will tell you: it’s actually, really quite bad.

But, that’s not what this blog is about.

Sure, during my 3-week sojourn, the Guddu power line tripped twice; we queued for hours for petrol; and millions of Pakistanis watched schools turn into even more barbaric versions of themselves.

But, these are all partial truths: the versions of events that sell because they’re exciting and spicy.

Sensational, they pander to apocalyptic imaginaries of Pakistan, not unlike Hollywood’s obsession of the same for America (and, sometimes, the rest of the world); which is why they’re best left in cinemas.

Ordinary life — under the vitriolic spew, mad traffic, guns blazing, fires raging – is about Pakistanis who are staunchly human, surrounded by confused and inefficient systems against which the only natural response right now seems to be aggression.

Yet, we are about 180 humans waiting patiently in line at the Shaukat Ali Road PSO, some of us jaywalking across the road to get tikkai from Model Town Flats, others settling forQalandri daal chawal, many loitering around, joking or complaining about the government, then hopping back into the car to creep up a few feet.