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Little signs of life in quake-hit wasteland

Ap, Muzaffarabad
Four trading stores back in business, an applecart on a street corner, two auto-rickshaws plying their trade and a roadside stall serving hot tea -small but important signs of life in a city turned into a wasteland by a powerful earthquake.
However, it took six days before anyone was brave enough to sit in a building long enough do any trading.
The 7.6-magnitude earthquake that reduced much of Muzaffarabad, capital of Pakistan-administered Kashmir, to rubble on Saturday also struck a deep terror of buildings into the hearts of those who survived.
But no sooner had one hardy trader opened his doors Thursday in the business area near the army stadium than others followed suit.
Not that their shops are brimming with any fresh goods -- mostly it's cold drinks, biscuits and crisps with
some toiletries and cakes providing variation.
But when they opened their doors on Thursday, word quickly spread and locals and expatriate relief workers alike made a beeline for their stores.
After five surreal days -- when the streets were lined with bodies, survivors were scrabbling with their bare hands to try to rescue those trapped, the air was filled with the sound of wailing and quake dust and the world looked as if it was ending -- the simple act of being able to walk into a store and buy a packet of biscuits can seem like a luxury.
And in a world where survivors punch and throttle each other for the food being thrown by relief workers from the tops of trucks, sipping a cup of chai (tea) at a roadside dhaba, or stall, can, perhaps, be one of life's sweetest experiences.
Alif Jan, owner of the newly-reopened "Afghan dhaba" which also serves up a hot plate of spicy rice, says he can't keep pace with demand.
"I cook, I finish, I cook, I finish, I am going crazy feeding them," he said as a group of 10 men arrived all demanding chai and spicy rice.
Not that there is anything vaguely normal in Muzaffarabad -- it's still on the edge of madness.
Most survivors walking the streets wear face masks -- the smell of death still overpowers -- houses are either tilting dangerously or have collapsed completely; everyone sleeps outside in the bitter cold; helicopters bringing in relief aid or evacuating the wounded buzz incessantly; tent towns are springing up amid the rubble and truckloads of people leave the city by the minute for safer ground.