EVERY morning before he leaves for work, Mr Mohammad Rahim says a prayer: God, keep me safe.

"We ask our family members to pray that we get back safe and sound," said Mr Mohammad, who runs an electronics business in the city centre. "That is what every Pakistani does."

The wave of attacks and suicide bombings in the past four weeks has shakened the country.

The once sleepy oasis of Islamabad is now something of a city under siege, with its tree-lined streets barricaded, schools shuttered and jittery residents wondering when the next attack will come.

The fear shows how Taleban and Al-Qaeda-led insurgents, based along the Afghan border, have brought the war into Pakistan's political and diplomatic heart, a move they hope will force the government to halt a new army offensive against their stronghold.

The unease has been heightened by the range of targets attacked despite a nationwide security clampdown.

Suicide bombers hit the International Islamic University and a UN office in Islamabad; militants took officers hostage for 22 hours at the army headquarters in Rawalpindi; commando-style raids paralysed Lahore; and bombs destroyed markets in the northwest.

More than 300 people have been killed, most of them Pakistani civilians. And no one expects the attacks to end soon.

"The feeling is that things have degenerated terribly," said corporate lawyer Javeed Akhtar. "The university bombing (on Oct 20 ) sent a chill through everyone. There is now a realisation that targets are unrestricted. It is no holds barred."

With many people staying home, owners of restaurants and shops popular with foreigners and wealthy Pakistanis say their earnings have halved in the two weeks since the start of the latest government offensive.

Many schools remain closed while principals try to secure them against possible future attacks.

Barriers to bombers

Workers are busy building thick concrete barriers to stop suicide car bombers. Many parents have chosen to keep children at home even when their schools reopened.

"As soon as there is an explosion, things come to a standstill for a day or two, but life must go on," said Ms Najmi Rizvi, the head of a preschool where attendance has halved. "We have to live in this situation," she said, as toddlers in Halloween costumes ran around the yard.

The resolve of the country's politicians, army generals and people to take the fight to the militants in their border sanctuary of South Waziristan appears to be holding. But unqualified support for the offensive is complicated by the unpopularity of the government and a belief that the violence would stop if America pulled out of Afghanistan.

This article was first published in The New Paper.