May 31, 2026 – 9:00 PM (Mushk Mohyuddin’s Journal) It is Sunday night, and the last day of May is wrapping up with a heavy sense of quiet. The weekend didn't really feel like a weekend at all; it just felt like a collective exhale for the entire city after the absolute madness of the past week. I took a walk on the terrace earlier just to catch the evening breeze. The relentless heatwave from the beginning of the week has fully backed off, replaced by that familiar, salty coastal wind coming in from the Arabian Sea. Up here, listening to the distant, steady hum of Shahrah-e-Faisal, you could almost forget how volatile this place can be. Scrolling through the news feed one last time tonight, things seem to be settling into a tense kind of normal. The post-Eid garbage cleanup operations are still crawling through our neighborhood, and the political shouting matches have moved from the floor of the assembly back to the television talk shows. There hasn't been much of an update on Nadia’s case in Malir, which leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. It feels like the news cycle has already chewed it up and moved on to the next headline, but I can't seem to shake it. Tomorrow is June 1st. A new month, a full week of classes ahead, and the routine is going to swallow us all whole again. I'm shutting my laptop, turning off the lights, and just hoping June treats this city, and all of us, a little more gently than May did.
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