October, Anjali Sharma, and Limo Paani

You know how messy it gets coming to the end of the year? When the semester is at its toughest and you seem to have ran out of almost everything –coins, paper pins, ink… Stamina –And seem to have dropped almost everything; pens, books, papers.. Hopes. When you give up drafting those flop study-time tables which by coming to the end you learn are of no use. When the schedule is so tightly packed, you absolutely fail to make out time for ‘people’ around and across; and they complain. When your thoughts are all jumbled up, pace irregular, and time too limited. When you have just SO many things to do, that you end up doing absolutely nothing. Yeah, THAT. 

Two more months, and yet another year... Gone.

It is once again that time of the year, when I find myself standing amidst the unknown fields of nowhere. I have a thick pile of reading to do, a whole stack of papers to fill and a heap of writing assignments to work at. And along with that, I need to take care of my hair (which is falling out like crazy) –please, it’s a serious matter. And of my skin (which has quite badly darkened due to sun exposure) –I am not a beauty conscious or a fitness freak, but hey, it hurts! And of my diet and health (which is declining rapidly). And of my social life (which has recently passed away) –a moment of silence please, at its sad demise. Thank you.

October has begun; the sun has however not yet ceased to torture us. The thin cotton-ish clouds scarcely ever show up, and, even when they do, they are of no help in blocking the brutal sun rays. The deepest, most desired wish that I am yearning for (after a series of other most desired wishes), is of rain. I earnestly wish to wake up to a heavy downpour, and , like always in times like these, get drenched to the bones and twirl and whirl in the swishing cool water like Anjali Sharma… Running free of all the shackles and ties and boundaries, leaving behind all that burdens a soul so fragile; but, sigh, it wouldn’t happen, because of a great number of reasons.

Reason#1:  I am (sadly) not Anjali Sharma.
Reason#2: It doesn’t rain in Octobers in Karachi. Or in Octobers. Or in Karachi.

Yes, there are only two, but they are big enough.

The purpose of this post is however not to record my rants and ramblings.

You know how sometimes a little moment of joy, a tiny adventure, a new experience, a spark and a genuine smile can practically make your day? Yes.  Hence, the motivation to write this post.

Walking from our department all the way to the university gate, that too in this heat and that too at this rate of talking, our throats had practically dried out. The water cooler at the bank had karwa paani, of which, by the way, I had taken a huge sip in sheer haste; later I spat it out. Nauseating. LITERALLY. Blekh (I hope it wasn’t cancerous. I am obsessed with cancer these days. Not that I’d die. Because, oh well, a couple of days ago a friend saw me in her dream where I died, which according to the interpretation implies that my age has increased. Pfffft).

Anyways. Back to the topic.

To help quench our thirst, a friend very confidently, with that follow-me-l-know-where-heaven-is attitude walked us out of the university gate and introduced us to a kind, and indeed a very noble gentleman.

The Limo Paani Waala.

A wooden pushcart (quite like that of street vendors, in a poorer condition though) draped with green plastic sheet, having small greenish-yellow lemons arranged at the top of medium sized kachay drinking glasses that were lined at one side, a slab of thick ice at the other and the noble gentleman at the far end dressed in a faded brown cotton shalwar kameez, holding a citrus squeezer in his hand, awaited us; accompanied by a few flies, under the neem tree that had little birdies resting at its tiny branches. Unhygienic? I don’t think so.

Unfortunately, couldn't click the picture of the real limo-paani walay bhai.

As mentioned quite many times, I am not particular about things. If there is something that I like, I like it and I’ll have it. No questions asked and no unnecessary concerns. It is always fun to try up new things; the weirder, the better.

--Yaar tum yeh piyo, bohot mazay ka hota hai.

-Bhaiya, kitnay ka glass hai?

-10 rupay. 

Affordable. Might as well take another glass.

-Bhai mujhay thaili mei dijiyega.

--Mujhay glass mei.

---Mujhay bhe glass mei!

--Yaar, tum yeh piyogi nah, tum roz aogi peenay. Itnaa achha hota hai!

-Behen,who dega tou piyungi nah?

--Haan piyo, bohot achha hota hai.

---Teeesri dafa bol rahi ho yeh baat tum! In bhai ne publicity karnay ka commission diya hai kyaa?

--Tum piyo tou saheeh!

-SHUT UP!

(She intentionally does this, just so to annoy us).

We sat at the footpath under the shade of the same neem tree with limo paani ke kachay glass and (in my case) limo paani ki thaili. Qingqi rickshaws, public buses, cars, bikes, carts, pedestrians, all went by eyeing us for a second or two, and then moving on carelessly. In this heat and in this rush, nobody cares what people are up to, as long as they’re minding their own businesses.

The chilled, energizing limo paani went tickling down our dry throats, giving start to a very random conversation.
(The conversation has been cut short and details omitted, because; #1: they are embarrassing. #2: they require a long contextual background. And #3: they wouldn't make sense). 

-I wonder where we’d be five years from now.

--Khairiat hai?

-Shushh!

---Yeah, I wonder the same…

--You have lost all the right to express uncertainty, miss engaged! We all know you would be married, and most probably a mother to a couple of troublesome kids!

---I am so going to miss this! University is fun, don’t you think?

-It definitely is. Gets quite tiring though, but I like it here.

---Would you remember me after like, 10 years from now?

-That would depend.

---Why, whut?

-Yeah… I think I have brain cancer. My brain cells are dying, I think I have Alzheimer’s…  I hardly remember stuff!

(All three of them): Oh shut up you!

---The other day you had stomach cancer!

--Yeah, and day before you had skin cancer!

-LOLLLL! Of course I would remember you. I have had the best time of my life with you guys.. Umm.. well… Skipping the early few months..Yeah, close enough to best.

-We’ve done some crazy, hilarious stuff together! Remember walking barefoot to the gate in heavy downpour?

--LOL! One of the things I had alwayyyys wanted to do!

-And that song? Mai Tharki Hun?
--Sharminda nah karo!

*fits of laughter*

--And Teri Yaadein?

*Another fit of laughter*

--Remember Sir Irfan’s comment? “Tum fauth tou nahe honay waaleen?”

-OHMYGOD! It was so embarrassing!

--You have LOST written all over your face!

-WHATEVER!

---Remember how bizarre things were exactly a year ago?

-Yeah.. I was ready to give up everything to run away from here.

--And from us.

-And from you guys, yes…

---I am glad everything’s settled.

-So am I.

--So am I!

---So, where were we?

-Here.

--Here.

-Mera limo paani khatam –

---Shush! I meant, let’s get back to the topic we were at.

--You want us to get back to your shaadi ka topic, right? Huh. Self-obsessed.

---NO! I want us to discuss (pointing) ‘her’ shaadi ka topic –

-OHMYGOD! Guess what?! ‘Somebody’ returned from the coma…

--Who…?

-GUESS!

--POKE?

-YESSSS!

*a monstrous fit of laughter*

--LOL!! What timing! Why don't normal things happen to you?

-I know, right?

--Pehlay nahe hosh aasakta thaa?!

---LOL! Tch tch tch, wait till I tell ‘people’ about this.

-Who people?

--AH! I KNOW WHO SHE’S TALKING ABOUT!

-WHO?! Oh, wait…–

---Luc –

-Shushhh!

--No no, complete your sentence–

- –SHUSHHH! I’ll throw this limo paani at you!

And with that, we went about sharing another whole lot of crazy stuff and some super-personal jokes, and laughing like retarded seals at some insanely unfunny things. We tend to laugh at the most silly things, because that is what you do, no? Being the passengers of the same boat, saving each other from drowning; and making the most out of little moments; because it is these little moments that matter the most.

Covering the long distance in a cheerful ride back home, a sudden realization that had always been there but too shy to ever show up, finally revealed itself; we, as people, are not free. This way or the other, we are bound by certain sets of values and bind by certain kinds of roots. Roots, that prevent us from crossing the lines, keep us on track and move us all in a circle that we're all connected with.
Hence, in situations like these, when imagining yourself to be Rahul Raichand's free spirited Anjali Sharma is not an option; a little gossip, a lot of laughs and a glass of limo paani is ALL what you need to get back working again.