'Humans Of New York' Reaches Pakistan To Tell A Story No Longer Told

NEW DELHI: Brandon Stanton, the man behind the internet sensation that is “Humans of New York” is currently in Pakistan, with his latest series of pictures providing a beautiful insight that represents the human face of the conflict-ridden country.

The pictures (and corresponding stories) speak for themselves.

"Lyari is a tough neighborhood. There are a lot of gangs, and people are always trying to bribe young kids to do bad things. I've run this arcade for 15 years. It makes me happy to see children playing games instead of getting caught up in those things."

(Karachi, Pakistan)

“When I was ten years old, I had a bad disease that caused me to lose consciousness and when I woke up, I was blind. I screamed: ‘Mom, I can’t see anymore!’ And we both started crying. It's been a very hard life for me. Nobody would give his daughter to a blind man. If I dwelled on how lonely I am, I’d have died a long time ago. My only friend is the radio.”

(Karachi, Pakistan)

"What are you doing?"
"Nothing."

(Karachi, Pakistan)

"I want to be a police officer."
"What will be the best part about being a police officer?"
"The power."

(Babusar Top, Pakistan)

“Education changed the lives of my entire family. Before education, we knew only how to work. It was always very quiet in our home. My grandfather was a laborer, but he paid to send my father to a tutor so that he could learn to read. He told my father that, if nothing else, he should begin by learning how to read and write his name. When I was born, my father taught me how to read. I started with local newspapers. I learned that our village was part of a country. Then I moved on to books. And I learned that there was an entire world around this mountain. I learned about human rights. Now I’m studying political science at the local university. I want to be a teacher.”

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)

“I admired her from afar for a while, and eventually summed up the courage to tell her my feelings. She told me that she felt the same way. This was before cell phones, so at first our meetings were limited to random interactions on the street. But then we both got mobiles and started talking on the phone. Eventually she told me that she wanted to marry me. I sent my mother to ask her family for permission, but they didn’t think I was a suitable match. They were a higher class of people. They were educated. Her father was a business owner. I tried to plead with them: ‘I’m not paralyzed,’ I told them. ‘I work. Why am I not good enough?’ But I was never given an answer.”

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)

“My father passed away a year before I got married. I wish he could have lived to see me start my own family. After God, he was my god. There was no infrastructure here when I was growing up, so we lived through very hard times and often there was no food. But he’d do whatever he could to make us forget. One night he organized an entire musical. We couldn’t afford instruments so we pretended that we had them. Every one in the family had a role. I was the star.”

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)

“I’m studying overseas at a small college in Minnesota. I’m just home for the summer. There’s definitely more outward freedom in the states to wear what I want and do what I want. But I never feel completely at ease because there are only three Pakistanis at my school, and I feel that everything I do reflects on my family, my religion, and my country. I feel pressured to always be exceedingly polite and well behaved, even when I don’t feel like it. But in Pakistan I can relax more, even though the electricity sometimes goes out and I’ve already been mugged twice since I’ve been back. Because here I feel like my actions only reflect on me.”

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)

“We lost their mother to a heart attack recently. And their father is overseas trying to find a job. So I’m currently Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, and Dad. Luckily I have five children and eighteen grandchildren, so I’m very experienced. There’s actually one more child at home—he’s eight years old. And none of them can fall asleep unless they are lying next to me. So I have to put the oldest one to sleep first. Then I get up quietly, and lie down between the other two. The only problem is sometimes they fall asleep on top of me.”

(Passu, Pakistan)

“I was born paralyzed from the waist down. But this community is so tolerant that I never had to worry about fitting in. I only had to focus on improving myself. Everyone treated me as normal. I got everything my older brother got, including punishment. I never once escaped a spanking. I dove off cliffs. I swam. I played cricket and badminton. I climbed trees. The only thing my family told me not to do was play music, because they thought it would distract me from my studies. But eventually I got so good, they couldn't even tell me to stop that.”

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)

“This is the worst time of my life. I have two brothers. A few years ago, one of them was diagnosed with polio. And he can’t walk anymore. And last year, my other brother got a brain tumor. And he can no longer remember my name. So one brother needs me to be his legs. And the other needs me to be his mind. My father is too old to work, so I support us all on a soldier’s salary. If something happens to me, there will be no hope for any of us.”

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)

“Last month I had an accident that destroyed my tractor, and now my life has been ruined. I’d saved for that tractor for three years. When I finally bought it, I was so happy. Things seemed to finally be moving forward. I was working crops and making money. Now it’s destroyed, but I still owe $5000. I only make $120 a month, and most of that goes toward renting this new tractor. I’m still very injured from the accident. I should be in bed but I couldn't take any more days off. I didn’t used to look like this. I used to care about my appearance and wear proper clothes. I used to eat proper meals. But I can’t afford any of that now. I have nothing left to sacrifice.”

(Passu, Pakistan)

“My life is on repeat, every day. This area is surrounded by water, but my village has no access, so every morning I make a two-hour trek to the glacier so we have something to drink. During the day I work to maintain this road. I get $100 a month. In the winter, I make daily trips to cut wood so we can stay warm. I can’t leave this land because it’s all I have. There is no happiness or sadness in my life. Only survival.”

(Passu, Pakistan)

"I just found out we've been evicted. Right after you leave, I'm going to start packing up. I've got to find my family a new place to live by tonight. The landlady is a good woman. She's just in a tough situation. Her disabled son lost his home. I'll handle it. I've been through worse."

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)

"When I'm bored, I call up Radio Pakistan and request a song, then I start dancing. I'll even dance on a rainy day. It's my way of expressing how grateful I am. I am the happiest man in Pakistan."

(Passu, Pakistan)

"I grew up in the village behind me. It's very beautiful here but there are few opportunities. Whenever I think about my children's prospects, I grow sad. I have nothing to provide for them so they'll probably end up like me, taking whatever work they can just to survive. My parents died when I was ten. I went to live with my aunt and my uncle. They never gave me grief. They never made me feel bad. But they were also poor, and every time we sat down to eat, I felt like I was stealing from their family. The guilt grew so bad that when I turned 15, I tried to build a shed for myself. I lived there for about six months. But then the winter came. And eventually the cold grew stronger than the guilt."

(Hunza Valley, Pakistan)