OOPS! TO PAKISTAN
A Series By Ibrahim Raza (1st Year MBBS)
CHAPTER 1
“…Pakistan…”, I mumbled. ”What!.....what did you just said…..are you out of your mind….no…no…never. You asked for Russia…fine….for….Ethiopia…o.k. fine……and now you’re asking me for a tourism or whatever trip to Pakistan…..IMPOSSIBLE!...”,my mother had flushed with anger when she came to know of my next ever craziest idea. “But, moooommmmm……..” I sung in the most sweetest tone. “Alex, do you really want to put yourself into this trouble even when you know the law and order situation and economic crisis of that country………I really don`t think this is a good idea. What in the heavens do you want to prove……a survival certificate or what?”. “Mom, I am using my own savings besides, it would really be interesting experience, you can trust me on this”, I countered. “Honey, it`s not the money that we are worried about……..”. “Mom PLEASE, just one more time….there won`t be another one, please mom…oh come on.”, I begged. “oh my god! I don`t believe I am saying this…OKAY FINE….but I have to talk to your dad, your goanna upset him real hard.” ,At last after a very long and thorough discussion she was persuaded.” ”I knew you would agree, you’re the best mom ever, I love you very very much….”I flattered as I ran upstairs into my room to pack my luggage.
I was a kind of a regular tourist and was very adept at travelling. I belonged to Melbourne, Australia and worked there as an engineer. I got a three months holiday after every three years……three very fast months. I used to spent them with my parents (I had no relatives) back at my native farm at a suburb. My father took care of the farm and the cattle. Mother helped him. For last three consecutive tri-yearly holidays I had been going out for tourism for a month. I belonged to a line of very strict adherents to a strong family system (with exception to me earning and living miles away from home).so, unless the permission for the trip was granted the departure was very unlikely rather impossible and thus a successful persuasive dialogue was inevitable.
“How can I help you, sir?”, the skinny travel agent, sticking his teeth out hence producing a wide smile, asked as I stepped into his office. I bluntly stated the matter, “Just wanted to buy a return ticket to Lahore, Pakistan…”.”his smile turned into expressionless face, “sorry I didn`t catch the last word…..Panama….”.”Pakistan”, I fired back. ”Oh!.....Pakistan….must be some emergency…..you know these days…..”.”so….can`t get one, then……..”.I broke in.”No….no…..sir, I am more than happy to oblige…but…a…aaa…..you wouldn`t mind getting by a sub-standard airline…would you?”. “No problem, fine just give me one.”, I made an ugly face.
At the airport I found myself among a very few others who were destined to Lahore, Pakistan. Two Pakistani immigrants returning home(one was I guess bankrupt, judging by his appearance),one whose office was transferred to Pakistan(actually demoted and punished),and the last and the fourth accomplice was me.
We boarded into the plane along with others, after a brief chat there was long silence and I preferred to indulged myself in the fascination of the upcoming adventures
CHAPTER 2
Thud thud........thum thuk........thad thum.......I was simply grasped and pulled out of my , now ,a pantheon of thoughts......which constituted on sweet assumptions as if it were a trip to some underdeveloped Elysium. And Till the time I somehow managed to sense the source, I was completely jolting up and down in ,or rather more precisely ,about my seat. This was a situation strangely similar to my faint childhood memories of my wooden hobby horse except for the fact that there was a minute difference of about only FIFTEEN years and 18000 ft.....what a courtesy.....well in my most optimistic comment....I would refer it to "a unique experience that simply warms you up for the upcoming further unimaginable set of even unique-er (uni-queer) events"
During this "aerial frenzy " the staff door opened for the first time in the flight and I realized that we were actually on a manned aircraft. Well, of course I had came across many promos and brochures of several airlines where the term "air hostess" was more often synonymous with "air fairy" and not to exaggerate these creatures were also one of most politest organisms that walk the earth or fly in the air (not to mention their " milky color "....a phrase most popular in general public).Anyways.as the door opened I could see my other fellow passengers developing a strange curiosity that I have no valid logic to explain but soon they were pretty muchdissapointed.In nuce, when the door opened there was another earthquake.....which had fault lines right on the continent of their "expectations" and a lady ,in late forties ,who looked like as if she had never bothered that she had some remnants of hair left that can be nice tied to make her little bit more presentable, entered. Her face presented a clinical example of plateau and the lipstick took a deep outward bulge from the faint margins of. Her lips every now and then. She wore a regular white coat of high tensile strength that spoke eloquently of her frequent duties at the airline kitchen. She came and amidst of this shaker game walked smoothly as if it was a pretty normal situation and in the most calmest tone enlightened us that unfortunately we had been caught in an air pocket and that the crew was sorry for this "inconvenience" and then .............simply walked back............probably she thought we had already figured it out that if air pressure becomes low we should go for a mask mounted......????...... up ........aaaaaa.......where????.........most likely, the empty depression in the ceiling above the seat had once been the appropriate place of this mysterious gadget.................
TO BE CONTINUED
2 comments
You seem to be obsessed with air hostesses ,I hope they arrest you on one of those foreign flights for harassment. :D
ReplyDeleteHahahaha...rather thats the part u enjoyed the most....;-)
ReplyDelete