Midday Moments A couple of weeks ago, a midday poetry reading session was held. Literary aficionados, Bari Mian and Wajid Jawad read out a selection of poems, with members of the audience contributing their own favourites. In the midst of the mayhem of war, there was something restorative and moving about these two speakers, each with a small well-thumbed pocket sized notebook bursting with paper bookmarks marking the poems to be read. Most cultural events are held in the evenings, often extending well into the night. This was different. A couple of hours in the middle of the day. A hiatus between the busyness of the morning and what may well be a fraught evening. It was not a rest, a siesta, but a secret energizing, a waking of the soul when many in the city were bent over desks, reconciling accounts. Midday is seen as a powerful time of the day, when the sun is at its zenith, creating no shadow. A time of sharp clarity, intensity, perfect illumination, exposing the...