Every so often, a rough beast slouches towards Islamabad to be reborn over and over again, seemingly undeterred by the containers and check posts , yearning for its rebirth at D-Chowk and usually dies somewhere near Faizabad.
See: Roads blocked mobile internet services suspended ahead of TLP protest in Islamabad in Dawn:
"The TLP has announced plans for a massive anti-Israel demonstration outside the US embassy in the federal capital today. In anticipation of the protest, the Islamabad administration had started placing shipping containers at Faizabad Interchange — the historic site of several TLP sit-ins."
I would love to commission a painting that depicts this phenomenon and, call it "Islamabad's Rough Beast". I'm also filing this Blog Post under Anecdotes.
And, here's the Second Coming by Yeats:
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
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