Not long ago, the general perception, among people, of outing excursions were not just slightly different to what they are now, they were 180 degrees a flip. Our parental generation would take expedition trips as means of communicating with nature without any traces of chaos, humdrum of urbanism, and topsy-turvydomof technology. For instance, if I think of an outing my childhood saw, it was more or less a “dialogue with nature,” where trees, mountains, and flowers would make up the most eloquent discourse human senses could ever soak in. I remember, being a city-bred boy, how serene places would become our automatic choices for family outings, preserved into its wholesome tranquillity, and overfilled picnic spots would mimic another social trauma–hence, a big no from our side. As we used to step up Bara-Kahu, a suburb of Islamabad–a quiet sphere then–we would sense the lavendery air blowing our faces while gushing through the orchards situated along the road. “The farther we go the nippy it gets,” was the equation. Not a moment would pass by without reminding us we were in the Bahamas. The pandemonium of proliferating vehicles, from left, right, and centre, was out of the equation as fewer cars were seen traversing across the craggy carpets. As we would draw near the famous mountain resort town, Murree, located in the Galyatregion of the Pir Panjal Range, within the Rawalpindi District of Punjab, we would mostly stop, by the way, ascending any elevation of the land, and so would other families. In the process, the males would wind their ways to a reasonable destination where the whole family could settle. This practice was even adventurous as gradual pacing along twisting and circuitous paths would open up an account of fervour and delight. It would take barely 15 to 20 minutes before we would bump into a cosy place. The men would drop down to the edges of the rug and the ladies would play the first fiddle. My mum and aunts would assign us, the children, duties for the accumulation of dry wooden limbs for fuel. The tea, brewed naturally, used to be absolutely “fantastic” with the scent of nature ever so slightly infused and sugariness spurting through the ambience around. We would spend the whole day exploring, walking around, talking to chir pine, blue pine, deodar, and spruce; the trees in the most multi-floristic site of Pakistan. When finally, we would get ravenous and stumbling, the aromatic food would capture our eyeballs then. The word “pounce” is too over the board here, but we weren’t any less than the predators then. Our hearts would sink when the dropping of the sun would have commenced. Then in a flash, we would pack up, descend and march back home, in the dusky twilight of a beautiful day. Our emergency responses towards the Murree disaster have become one of the most pathetic manifestations, this era of unprecedented developments has ever witnessed. At this moment in time, I go for outdoor expeditions seldom, and so does my generation. What we’ve seen in the nineties and early twenty-first century has either gone extinct or urbanization has brought ruins on the serenity of my beautiful city, Islamabad, and hilly resorts nearby. The land mafia is wreaking havoc, so much so that the discernible weather measures between Islamabad and Murree have vanished. The encroachments being enforced on once contiguous hilly sequence between Islamabad-Murree, by land mafias, have reached a limit where the full-fledged hills are taken off the face of the earth. If you travel between the two cities, the most frequent sighting is the bulldozers running around the elevations rooting off the trees. As the structural and weather dynamics of these hilly areas change, the influx of tourists visiting these areas chokes the roads every year now. Well, what to say! What has just happened in the last few days is a tragedy beyond imagination. The recent havoc that happened at Murree speaks volumes about the fact that not only our sensitivities towards physical perils of circumstances have been numbed, but our emergency responses towards Murree disaster have also become one of the most pathetic manifestations, this era of unprecedented developments around the globe has ever witnessed. Mind you, we are not Ethiopia, Madagascar, or Yemen. We are having a giant defence, disaster, rehabilitation, structuring budgets with absolutely humongous manpower available, yet we don’t spend on restructuring, preservation, conservation, mentoring, monitoring, capacity building, and development. Congratulations, the list of mafias has gotten a value addition, just recently included in the hotel mafia that wreaked havoc on public money once they found them in lurches. It is said that they looted them in the face of disaster and rather devoured them. The state organizations, based within the premises of calamities, did not show up until the death toll crossed twenty. The machines required to undergo such sensitive operations were either not available or if there were any, they had not been able to be brought in the emergency hot spots due to choked roads. Honestly, I believe that the public needs awareness of all levels since their perspectives, perceptions, and angles about entertainment have become far too false to be considered as any genuine ideas. They need to be taught that entertainment is in the presentation (John McTiernan): when the presentation is flawed, the entertainments are mere excruciating time and effort. The presentation is conservation in our case. They need to be taught that entertainment is not about devouring fast food from a renowned eatery, infested with artificial flavour and preservatives; it is about drawing out the taste from your natural organic homemade food. The entertainment is not about getting held among the horde of honking cars for ages, it is about talking to nature within nature through nature. It isn’t about attending a night party in a buzzing room, it is about effective intrapersonal communication. The entertainment is certainly not about going to a certain place, it is about being gratified with your work, family, and circumstances. Peace is entertainment, health is entertainment and the little joys we share with people are entertainment! I can’t help quoting here the most famous sequence of “The Great Dictator,” a five-minute speech, where Charlie Chaplin drops his comic mask and speaks directly to the world, conveying his view that people must rise against dictators and unite in peace. Although the whole concept satirized fascism and its perils, it could be watched into a different connotation as well. Charlie Chaplin, perhaps, wanted to convey much more than just admonishing the likes of Adolf Hitler, Benito Mussolini, anti-Semitism, and the Nazis: “We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world, there is room for everyone. And the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. You are not machines! You are not cattle! You are men! You have the love of humanity in your hearts! You don’t hate! Only the unloved hate – the unloved and the unnatural! Soldiers! Don’t fight for slavery! Fight for liberty!” Yes, we are not cattle, we are human. We cannot be herded and crammed; we need spaces of our calibres; we cannot be fooled in the name of entertainment, we need spaces within ourselves. Enough of fake entertainment. The writer is based in Islamabad. He can be reached at mbilal.isbpk@gmail.com, FB/mbilal.16