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Picture this: the outskirts of Bahawalpur, where the Sutlej River’s waves are rising relentlessly, and dark clouds have been pouring torrential rain for hours. It’s autumn 2025, November’s chilly winds cutting through the night, when suddenly the riverbanks burst. A wall of water surges toward the villages like a monster unleashed. Mari Qasim Shah Basti, a quiet settlement on the city’s edge, is swallowed in an instant. In the pitch-black night, the faint moonlight drowns in the muddy, churning flood. The crack of collapsing walls, children’s screams, and the panicked stampede of livestock fill the air. The floodwater—brown, filthy, and merciless—once a distant warning on the news, now pounds at doorsteps. An elderly woman, her grandson hoisted on her shoulder, wades through the alley as water reaches her waist. “God save us!” cries echo, but the current is too fierce, sweeping away everything: fields, homes, fragments of memories. From afar, under the Empress Bridge, the water level has breached 12 feet, with a flow of 90,000 cusecs challenging the embankments. Gulab Gulwan, Khairpur Daha, and other villages are fully submerged. Rescue 1122 teams in boats race to save lives, but with every wave, more land erodes. A farmer weeps over his drowned fields, where fruits and vegetables now rot beneath the surface. The air reeks of mud, water, and death. This flood is not just water—it’s life’s helplessness. Thousands displaced, millions of acres of crops destroyed, and a wave of fear that keeps sleep at bay. Bahawalpur, once the pride of nawabs, now lies at the mercy of nature’s wrath. Is this the fury of the elements, or human negligence? A question lost in the roar of the waves.