Emad's Blog (Under Renovation)

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Primal Instincts

Today's been one of those days you get up in the morning, and with a smile on your face you try to exude positive energy for the day. And then.. the universe begins to conspire against you. To test your resolve towards that positive energy. And you fail!

You go to get your car thats lying with the workshop. It's not fixed.

Fight or Flight?

Flight. You ask the guy to make a temporary fix so you can use it for a few hours.

You're driving to your next stop when standing at a traffic signal, a motorbike zooms by, hitting your sideview mirror. It's intact. You look at the biker who doesn't appear the least bit apologetic.

Fight or Flight?

Flight. You smile and let it go. You still wanna save this day.

You begin the pursuit of a 'Passport protector' - a ridiculous, pointless, mindnumbing, expensive, time consuming process that a Pakistani has to engage in when they are planning to start work internationally. Long story short, this was your 4th visit to that office and you had finally gotten all the documents and their exact number of photocopies and the bank receipts to submit your application. They tell you that your passport shall be returned to you in a few hours and that you had to sit for a compulsory 'Living outside Pakistan' briefing.. Sigh..

So you go for the briefing which is a gruelling two hours of bullshit, about how you must be a responsible Pakistani, respect the law, pray 5 times, live in the religiously 'correct' manner (that was how the speaker described not sleepin around so you don't contract AIDS! Funny that this guy was still so uncomfortable with talking about it given he does the EVERY day for the last 15 years. Oh well!). You thank your lucky stars for being tech savvy and begin chatting randomly on Gtalk on your cell phone via eBuddy. Then there is a voice coming from an untidy, extremely corrupt looking official, 'Come get your passports now!'. The expected hoard of people begin throwing fists at each other in an effort to get ahead. You decide that you're better than this and you will wait for the nonsense to be over before you get yours. Funnily, yours is the first name thats called so you have to make your way through the mess of living breathing flesh that is between you and the window where your passport is being held hostage. You finally make it there, getting jabbed and pummeled by a few people on the way and stand there waiting for instructions. The grumby dimwit on the window tells you to stop wasting everyone's time, and you're like 'Woah?', still waiting for him to peacefully hand over your documents. He gives you a dirty look grabs your passport and throws it at your face.

Fight or Flight?

Flight. Swearing under your breath you take your green booklet and walk off.

Next stop's a photo studio. You want to print your some pictures of close friends to take with you. You go in and hand over your flash disk. The guy, who looks like he had been having domestic issues looks at you and says, 'No'. 'No?', you ask. 'No!', he reiterates.

Fight or Flight?

Flight. You take your flash disk back and walk back to your car.

Driving carefully, you look for a parking space in a congested market. You find one. You smile. You're patiently waiting for the exiting vehicle to peacefully be able to leave so you can replace yours in that space. Waiting. Waiting. BANG! You look at your rear view mirror and you see some random striker has decided to hit your car. You get out, still trying to keep your composure to expect the damage. You look at the person in the car and it's a gray haired old man with a family. You smile and you say, 'Please be careful, Sir. You could hurt someone.' You've been brought up to respect gray haired dudes as a general rule. Of course, it doesn't work vice versa. He starts screaming at you for having stopped like that. You continue to be polite and tell him to walk away without incident even though its his fault. He curses at you loudly.

Fight or Flight? Fight! You blow your lid. Within a matter of moments you transform from the cool headed, sweet talking, respectful young man, to a street style, pissed off, flustered, growling, visibily furious person. You are ready to bash his head into the pavement for swearing at you when you were being so polite and when it was his fault. His family hold him back as he makes a symbolic attempt to come out of the car and lock horns with you. You're ready! His eyes give him away. He isn't. You let him walk away.

You park at your prized spot, and go into the departmental store to pick up a new perfume. The guy at the counter is no eager beaver. You ask him if he has the brand you want. You can see it behind him on the shelf. He looks around, and says he doesn't. You point it out. He says, 'No'. 'No?', you ask? 'No!', he reiterates.

Fight or Flight?

Flight. You're done dealing with these morons. You'll come back another day.

On your way home of course, a car decides to come outta nowhere head-on on the wrong side of the road. You swirl outta it's way just in time and it clips your side view mirror. It shatters into a million pieces, as glass flies directly towards your face. Thanks to your sunglasses, you can still see as you type this post.

You're now going to go hide under a quilt and wait for this day to pass without further event. Good luck to you!


  • Thanks for your comments...I really loved them...kickass ones! But I liked the train one the most...imagine, it would've been so gorgeous. Maybe that train would've been a wonder of the world :).

    By Blogger sharmin, At 18/8/08 19:01  

  • This comment has been removed by the author.

    By Blogger sharmin, At 18/8/08 19:01  

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