Thursday evening I decide to treat myself to something pleasurable - no, no, don't let your dirty mind wander - more along the lines of a good meal I've been craving for days and some new literature to read at the end of my long and tiring (but quite rewarding) week/ work days.
I drive to a famous bar-b-que joint, place a take-away order with the waiter (remembering my dad the whole time - incidentally, this is the good meal he often craves too!)and walk into my favourite bookstore adjacent to the bustling restaurant.
I buy my books, walk to my car where the waiter is patiently waiting for me to collect my order and pay him. Paid and tipped he leaves. I drive off home, happy.
I stuff my face with the food [understatement]. Make myself some green-tea and clear up the kitchen as it cools.
It is then that I see at the BOTTOM of the packet, like some words of wisdom out of a fortune cookie after a Chinese meal, a statement sent to me by the Universe - to answer the questions I have been shooting out to it this week :
"Please Check Your Parcel Before Receiving"
I am puzzled. How BEFORE 'receiving'? Not before 'taking' your parcel, but before 'receiving' your parcel. Hmmmm... Really?
I sip my green-tea. I must try out this very new concept given to me. I smile, and Kane plays in my head...
"Tell me do you wanna believe it
Tell me would you wanna receive this life
That's only meant for you
There is so much that you can choose
Without giving in
And one of these days
It's gonna come right back to you
One of these days
I got the heart and soul
Got the right from wrong
O I'll sing it
Yes I believe it
Got to believe it
Got my heart and soul
And the will to go on
Yes I believe
And it feels good
It feels good"
-JB
Why Jane Bravo?
- janebravo
- One dark and boring night in 2005, sitting alone thinking about life and how weird it is, Sarah Dawood/ Drama wrote her first blogpost as Jane Bravo. What started out as a private ranting space, slowly and gradually evolved into the current blog, which talks about many events, things, and feelings. Just like all of Sarah's other social media platforms, also about many events, things, and feelings --- Instagram: thesarahdawood | snapchat: thesarahdawood | twitter: @SarahDawood | facebook: /groups/TheCoddiwomple
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The Monsters that come out in Karachi
It is the year 2008.
You're in your early 50s. You've lived a dignified, honest life. Done no harm to anyone, raised a child, cared for a family, worked hard at your small business.
You live in Karachi, Pakistan. Your car-radio clock displays 9.58 pm You're driving to your ordinary home, in your ordinary car, with your valuable family. You're just getting to the flyover that'll bring you closer to your home.
You are aware of the Monsters that are everywhere in Karachi now. They steal, they rob, they kill, they harm. You hold on to your Faith, you hold on to that peace in your mind.
You have your wallet, your mobile, you wear your watch - you are mentally prepared that these may be snatched from you at any point, any time... these are the times you live in. You are prepared to give them up to any Monster that may come.
But what happens next you were never prepared for, not in a million years, not after a million hold-up stories of Karachi...
You are driving at middle speed. A man appears out of nowhere in front of your car. No gun, just a raised hand, signalling you to stop: you think he is mad. You slam the breaks to save his life. And let him in. To destroy yours.
In the car there is silence. He has a gun! He points it at your wife at the window, he can shoot and kill through the glass. You realise he is not mad, he is a Monster...
He motions for your wife to open the door, she does. The three of you sit frozen and tense. Ready to give up your money, your phones, your car... but this is not what the Monster is after.
"Do do kahan leja rahay ho?" [where are you taking two women?]
Pause.
"Aik mere saath jai gi..." [one will come with me now]
As he says that last sentence he is looking at your daughter, she whimpers and starts crying. You are stunned. It is a nightmare sequence where nothing is making sense and everything feels terrifying, and beyond your control.
He moves back slightly, as if to open the backseat door to get in with your daughter, you wife, tears in her eyes says,
"Mujhey le jao.." [Take me]
He holds her arm from behind as she gets off the car. You can do nothing, say nothing, you can not move...
Traffic is moving. No one stopped to help before, no one stops now. Life stops. Your life stopped. In those five minutes of negotiating between giving your wife or your daughter.
Your daughter is crying, shaking, terrified. You look around again, hoping your wife will walk back to the car... it does not happen.
You can't remember how you got home.
You don't remember making the calls.
You don't remember what you tell the police and your people.
You are numb.
24 hours go by... then 48...and 72 hours later, your wife returns home. She is mute. She looks dirty. And broken. As if she was battered and then glued back together, just enough to stand and walk temporarily.
She doesn't look human.
She is already a ghost.
You quietly go to your room. Take your gun. And put a bullet through your brain.
You aren't prepared to live with the Monsters anymore.
*** Written in memory of a real-life incident, in Karachi, in August 2008, for a family that was destroyed by a Monster ***
Be afraid... Be VERY afraid.
- JB
You're in your early 50s. You've lived a dignified, honest life. Done no harm to anyone, raised a child, cared for a family, worked hard at your small business.
You live in Karachi, Pakistan. Your car-radio clock displays 9.58 pm You're driving to your ordinary home, in your ordinary car, with your valuable family. You're just getting to the flyover that'll bring you closer to your home.
You are aware of the Monsters that are everywhere in Karachi now. They steal, they rob, they kill, they harm. You hold on to your Faith, you hold on to that peace in your mind.
You have your wallet, your mobile, you wear your watch - you are mentally prepared that these may be snatched from you at any point, any time... these are the times you live in. You are prepared to give them up to any Monster that may come.
But what happens next you were never prepared for, not in a million years, not after a million hold-up stories of Karachi...
You are driving at middle speed. A man appears out of nowhere in front of your car. No gun, just a raised hand, signalling you to stop: you think he is mad. You slam the breaks to save his life. And let him in. To destroy yours.
In the car there is silence. He has a gun! He points it at your wife at the window, he can shoot and kill through the glass. You realise he is not mad, he is a Monster...
He motions for your wife to open the door, she does. The three of you sit frozen and tense. Ready to give up your money, your phones, your car... but this is not what the Monster is after.
"Do do kahan leja rahay ho?" [where are you taking two women?]
Pause.
"Aik mere saath jai gi..." [one will come with me now]
As he says that last sentence he is looking at your daughter, she whimpers and starts crying. You are stunned. It is a nightmare sequence where nothing is making sense and everything feels terrifying, and beyond your control.
He moves back slightly, as if to open the backseat door to get in with your daughter, you wife, tears in her eyes says,
"Mujhey le jao.." [Take me]
He holds her arm from behind as she gets off the car. You can do nothing, say nothing, you can not move...
Traffic is moving. No one stopped to help before, no one stops now. Life stops. Your life stopped. In those five minutes of negotiating between giving your wife or your daughter.
Your daughter is crying, shaking, terrified. You look around again, hoping your wife will walk back to the car... it does not happen.
You can't remember how you got home.
You don't remember making the calls.
You don't remember what you tell the police and your people.
You are numb.
24 hours go by... then 48...and 72 hours later, your wife returns home. She is mute. She looks dirty. And broken. As if she was battered and then glued back together, just enough to stand and walk temporarily.
She doesn't look human.
She is already a ghost.
You quietly go to your room. Take your gun. And put a bullet through your brain.
You aren't prepared to live with the Monsters anymore.
*** Written in memory of a real-life incident, in Karachi, in August 2008, for a family that was destroyed by a Monster ***
Be afraid... Be VERY afraid.
- JB
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