VIP Movement and Closed Shops

Dear friends,

I had written a letter to the editors of all the leading English newspaper in the nation. I am trying to do something about the VIP movement that is a nuisance to the shop we have. We are a small business trying to provide the best bakery products this side of the town, but the VIP makes it difficult as they force us to close down the shops for security purposes. I thought maybe I could start with the letters to the editors and if need be, take it to a higher level and do something about it! Here is my letter in Express Tribune and the other one in Daily Times with the cartoon!

Mansour

Plane Crash in Pakistan...!

They are saying it’s the worst aviation disaster in the history of Pakistan. 152 people have died when the plane crashed into the Margalla Hills. No doubt the entire nation is in mourning and rightfully so. Flags will fly at half mast.

Speculations and conspiracies theories are flying all over the nation as to what really happened. Initial reports claimed the black box has been found which was later refuted. The president of the Pakistan Airlines Association has said that the crash was due to pilot’s fatigue. Others say it was the weather: rainy, foggy and little visibility. My father knew the pilot personally and had just met him a few days ago. He claimed the pilot was one of the best ones Pakistan has ever had.

I however, think about the passengers. No one survived! Those sitting at the window seats must be wondering why they are flying so low alongside the mountains. Those sitting in the middle seats would have no idea what’s really happening outside. A newly-married couple were on their way for their honeymoon. A father was traveling with his three children. Did the pilot make any announcement of any sorts to warn the passengers? Were the passengers aware of what was happening aboard the flight?

This crash reminded me of the movie Final Destination as there were 12 people who had paid for their tickets but decided not to get on the flight at the last minute. Now that’s fate! They must be numb with shock as to how closely they avoided death. I shudder to even think of what the passengers must have been through- the fear, anxiety, tension, sense of helplessness and total confusion.

The rescue operations arrived late at the scene. Instead civil volunteers made it to the crash site in hopes for rescuing any survivors. Those relatives who had come to receive their loved ones were played havoc with. First reports came in that there were 5 survivors. Everyone must have hoped their loved ones were the surviving ones. Then news came in there were 8 survivors. Maybe the relatives’ hopes escalated beyond belief. Then came the cruel news that no one survived. All hopes must have been crushed to the ground.

Accidents happen. Natural disasters strike. People die. But this plane crash is one cruel way to die.

Family Politics...!

Hey there,

One of the downsides of living in a joint family system interacting with the extended family is family politics. You are bound to upset someone, hurt someone, rub someone the wrong way, offend someone and you incur their wrath. People love to talk and gossip and slander and backbite. People thrive on such information. People cannot be happy for others. I've been going through a similar situation where someone is maligning me for no good reason and I am hating every little bit of it. What fun is there spreading lies and gossiping about me? Why do I have to hear from random people asking me if the news is true or not? The worst part is that these very people are in my extended family so I cannot go thrash it out with them because then it will create tension between them and my parents which can lead to nasty brawls!

Someone famously said "today's gossip is tomorrow's headlines!" That's so true and what do I do?

M

Life of Mansur Revived!!

Hey friends,

I am reviving my Life of Mansur blog. Ever since I've been married, life has been extremely busy and hectic and it is only now that I am settling in well and have some time to get back to the world of blogging. Part of the reason why I have slacked from blogging is because of Facebook, where I find it easy to write my notes and post links to share with all my friends. However, Facebook is becoming addictive for me and I need to break away from it for a while.

I am so dying to blog my life out!

M

Real Dreams...?

Sometimes dreams can get so wild. I had one a while where some potential customers came to me looking to buy houses. I was dealing with them and one thing that struck out the most to me was the son in the family who had a strange request. He said to not sell any house to the family which has the number. So in effect he was saying to not sell any house which is like 9, 19, 29, 191 and so on. When I shared my dream with the rest of family, they thought it was very weird. All I could say was that it was like a real life incident being played out right in front of my eyes. But why number 9? Does that signify anything? I still don’t have an answer.

Last night, I had yet another dream that was too real for me. An uncle, who is my father’s cousin, has passed away. He leaves behind his wife, two daughters (one is married, other is final year of university) and a son, who is looking for a job. So clear was the dream that I even remember what shoes and clothes I was wearing (black pants, white shirt, tie and my new polished black shoes), what the sky was like (misty blue), what the daughter was saying to me (“I am too shocked to tell you what I feel right now”) to what the wife was doing in the kitchen (arranging the flowers people bought in various vases- in shock I presumed). I remember walking into their house, being greeted by the son whose eyes had turned bloodshot red from the grief. A large number of people had gathered in the drawing room. While there were a lot of people, at times I somehow felt as if I was flying above them. Men were weeping at the loss of my uncle, small children were running around excited at the chance to play with their friends on weekday, women pretending to grieve but were really gossiping on the latest scandal, and bored teenagers, texting away on their cell phones.

As I was “hovering” around the house, I bump into the daughter. Naturally she was distressed and in a slight bit of shock. I offered my condolences to her and all she did was give me a weak smile- “Mansour. I don’t know what to say.” I could tell she had been crying a lot. She was wearing a light blue, flowery shalwar kameez with the scarf on her head. I moved on a bit and saw the wife in the kitchen. She was standing at the sink, filling the vase with water. I inquired and she commented on how delicate the flowers were. Is she in shock, I wondered. She refused to budge and just gave me a blank stare as I moved out of the house.

I don’t know what to make of this dream. It was too real for me to even dismiss it. I sometimes freak out because I know these people and its scary to witness a funeral where I am dealing with the family who is grieving the death of their father and husband.

M