Yousfi says that the Qayamat will break on a working Monday. This Monday was no different. To begin with there was no breakfast at home due to some domestic problem. I certainly did not want to start the week with an empty stomach so I cut short the journey to work by stopping at a café near cantt station. It was jam packed even at eight o clock with visitors from interior Sindh and others having similar fate as mine. The waiters were sleepy and disinterested. Inflation and lack of purpose affects the white and blue collar workers in the same way. Dangling wires and falling paint on otherwise impressive colonial structure painted a gloomy picture on a forsaken Monday morning. A slow and noisy fan distributed hot April air to all corners of the café. I looked out munching on my sunny side up egg. A biker who just stopped outside caught my eye. A burqa clad lady was sitting behind him on his bike. The boy who was in his mid 20s, appeared to be a reasonable middle class youngster. Both got off the bike and boy parked it right in front of the cafe. The boy went to nearby khokha to purchase something. It appeared that he did not have change and it was too early for the khokha walla to have the same. The boy had no option but to get inside and purchase from the cafe. He asked for two water bottles and nestle juices at the reception. He had a 1000 rupee note. The cashier went out to arrange change for him. Meanwhile the lady was standing by the footpath. Suddenly a car stopped near her. The driver of the car lowered the window and had a meaningful look at her. The lady turned around and had a careful look at the boy who was busy buying the stuff. She had a moment of hesitation as if caught in two worlds. She hesitated for another moment and then opened the door and sat next to the driver. The car moved forward and disappeared in a second. Meanwhile the cashier arranged the change and handed over the juice packets wrapped in a shopping bag to the boy. The boy went out, shopping bag hanging in his hand, only to find girl disappeared. There was a moment of panic. He went here and there to look for her but she was no where to be found. He took his cell phone out and tried calling. There was no reply. Agitated, he waited near the bike. Meanwhile I paid the bill and moved out.
“She left in a car”, I thought he deserved to know.
“What!! bhainchod. haramzadi”, he barked and let his frustration out.
It pretty much explained his relation to her. Sensing the situation I further asked
“You are a decent lad. You deserve better. Where did you pick her from by the way”
“From Mazar-e-Quaid! You get randis like her from there only.”, he said and kicked start his bike.