Shop till you drop

There is someone on your left shoulder writing all this...

At least you see a different set of people when you shop. Its not just three categories of people, doctors (doctors in the making),  patients and attendants. The clock ticks eight pm as we leave. Karachi has now been blessed with Makro and Metro. I love them both. This time around it was Metro.There is no concept of size zero here, everything is in bulk.








Soul search

As I pick tomatoes, our desi ones worth fifteen rupees per kilo, my eye catches the foreign variety. Blood red (unclotted blood mind you!). The types you see on tomato ketchup bottles.As I stand there admiring them a chinese girl comes and touches them (superficial palpation). There is such love and tenderness. She then leaves without taking any. Then follows a middle aged gentleman. He has a bag full of desi tomatoes and is about to get them weighed. The pardesi tomatoes stop him. He looks at them, admires them, picks up one and all of a sudden puts it among the bag of desi ones! I couldn't believe this. He then moves on towards the weighing counter and gets his desi tomatoes weighed.

We always complain that we have leaders who are cheaters , thiefs. The problem is that they are just our representatives. One pardesi among so many desis. No body really saw him. But there is someone up there , watching. There is someone on your left shoulder writing all this...

The bald effect

We eventually move towards the cashier. Behind us is a lady with a hyperactive kid with a shiny, newly shaved scalp. He runs around, takes one thing, puts it back, then picks another. He then comes and hits my brother. My brother just smiles back. Her mother then says, "Ganja ho kay to aur shararti ho gaya hay!"