2:09 AM

Of a Horridable Night and the Drama that ensued

It is slightly inconvenient; I have so much to blog about and yet just not enough time and the temporary lack of resoucres is being a pain in the ass.

So I guess, without any further ado, I start with my tale of the night of horrors.

Those of you who belong to islamabad, would know how rare it is that our town witnesses a decent concert. So when I heard that Noori was planning to perform along with Qayyas ( a pretty decent under-ground act with a cute lead, who also amazingly enough has a great voice), Jal (blah) and another underground band ..*scratches head*..resistia or something like that, I was obvioulsy excited. Ever since coke studio I have been craving to get some live-Noori in me. So after some sms-forwarding I managed to convince around 5,6 other friends and we were get-set-go.

Due to some logistical issue and all that-always-happens-before-a-grand-night-out, we managed to get to PNCA an hour late. The court was full of the regular people you normally see at such events, loitering around. After some socialiing we found out that Noori, and Qayyas wouldn’t be coming as the cheques 3D-marketing gave them bounced back and so they have decided not to play. There were also some rumors about how everything had been managed and now they were coming but there was going to be some delay. So we decided we would also join in the rest of them loiterers. Finally around 11:40 there was some commotion and everyone started pilling in the arena. It must be 12:00 when we managed to push our ways through the crowd, get our tickets punched and go inside. 12:10 is when the gates were crashed and by 12:15 me along with my friends were out in car park ready to head out. Let me mention that till then no one had started performing.

If you are envisioning me with a big sulky face stuck in a cussing rut and swearing at “stupid stupid Pakistan”, you get full marks for imagination and all, but I can bet me-pretty-behind, that you just cant conjur up the face I made when I opened my car boot ( actually my friend’s) and saw nothing inside, as even I cant expalin it.

Now I had gotten to the concert with a friend who was planning to leave early. So on getting there, I had put my two bags, in another friend’s car. One bag had my laptop, a hard-drive, USBs and random offical papers. The other one had my personal belongings , my wallet, and my cell phone, which had died out on me initially ( hence the decision to leave it in my bag).

So getting back, my friend, open’s his boot and is welcomed by an eerily empty boot.

He stares a little, scratches his head a little

I stare a little, scratch my head a little.

He looks at me.

I look at him.

He says,”Didn’t we put your bags here?”.

I say “Didn’t I put my bags here?”

Finally he goes to look inside the car and that’s when he gives out a small man scream/yelp. The tiny backseat car window had been smashed in. After that we pretty much knew what must have happened.

Now I might not sound like it, but in situations like this I am rather calm. Especially if I am with the Little S and the Big S, as they tend to really, and when I say really I mean REALLY, panic. Therefore being the mother hen, that I am forced to become, I have to be more in control. So I called the office people, elder brother, police connections, etc etc and got back home to a mom, who had given herself a nervous break down in the mean time. I would add more, but I think “Mothers in crisis” is a topic of its own which I shall in due time elaborate on, but right now I’m just moving on…

I also need to mention the my bank people are effing insane. Pubes with days old donkey crap on em.

So I am driving home and I call my bank’s helpline. Along with other things, one of the things I carried in my bag was my cheque book. With that lost, along with my bank statements, ATM Slips and my ATM card I pretty much had no evidence of the fact that I indeed have a bank account with their bank. Also I did note down my bank details once… on my LAPTOP!!! So when I call them to cancel my ATM Card, they ask me my bank account details and reiterate the whole nine yards of why I don’t have my ATM number or my account number, to which they tell me they can’t do nothing. I volunteer information such as when were the last few times I withdrew cash, and my middle name and my mother’s name and my date of birth and my NIC number but no, they refuse to do so. Is it me or is it just complete inefficiancy on their part?

The next day which ensued was not any dramaless than this one.

I went to the bank and got the bank stuff done. Normal, normal..

Then I got to office and found out that the I-9 police had found my bag. "Where, how, when" would be conveyed once we got there. So I along with some office security people went to the I-9 thana. On getting there, we were taken to meet the officer, who had found the bag, lying on the road side near H-8. He looks at me and goes :

“Bibi, app ka baig milla tu hum ko tu tension he ho gaee! Hum nay soocha ager baig hay tu kaheen qareeb may koee katti-putti lash-shash bhi paree ho gee”

Translation (loose) : “ Miss, when we saw the bag we got all tended up as we thought if there was a bag lying around like this then there must be some chopped-up dead body too”

Now, like previously mentioned, I am a brave one however the braveness ( or is it bravity?) has limits.

Where did the days go, when people would offer you a cup of tea and then render upon you the bad news, with sorrys’ and pleases’ and thankyous’ nicely sprinkled all over?

…and no, it doesn’t get any better than this

… after this little episode they ask me to sit in an office while my-office-security-people do the official paper work. The office has poster’s of all the unknown dead bodies found in the area in the past decade. Somehow, I am guessing the natural reaction to that would be” Thankyou God, for not making me one of those” … but, No. That would be sane thing to do.

What I do is wonder how it would have been had something of the sort had happened to me. So I was on the road of giving myself an angina attack when I heard a girl scream. Since I was already too traumatized by the whole event I just couldn’t bring myself to get up and go see what was happening. Turns out some 19-20 ish girl was forced into a nikah (on the phone) with some relative of hers in Saudia Arabia. She was probably already in love with someone. So she decided to run away with the object of her affections. The way it pretty much always happens, the police tracked her down and she was brought back. By that time an FIR had been logged, and now she has some hudood ordinance thing going.

Bleak. Bleaker. Bleakest. More Bleakest. Most Bleakest. Most Bleakest-tareen!

Finally I was handed my personal bag, sans my cell phone and the money. I run back to my office to pick my new laptop up (finally a some-what-yayy-moment) and then I run to service centre to pick my replacement sim.

I finally get into my car so I can go back home. Get some much needed tea & mommy hugs, only to have my car (let me add, FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME)refuse to start.

I.Kid.You.NOT!

What do I do then…

I think I am gonna let all of you guess this one…

2 comments:

Minerva said...

Aww, rough, rough day man.. hang in there. There'll be better ones.

At least. That's what I say to myself when I'm going through something crappy.

Annie said...

I swear. I am okay about everything now, apart from random minutes in the day when I cant get over all the data I have lost! ..

but yeah: Better days shall come is the motto ...