7:30 AM
PECHS, Karachi, Pakistan
The alarm of a Samsung mobile phone was buzzing and playing
an AC/DC song on the bedside table. It kept on playing for 5 minutes when
finally a hand reached out from under the sheets on the bed and killed the
alarm.
Arif Hasan got off bed and looked at the time.
“Fuck me!” He swore out loud. For the 4th day
running he was late for work. He had recently got a job at a market research company,
thanks to a friend of his dad’s. He loved the job but he always got in late. He
rushed to the bathroom had a quick shower, brushed his teeth, dashed back,
blindly picked a pair of pants, a shirt and a tie, dressed up, got into his
worn out shoes, grabbed his wallet and phone and rushed into the adjoining living
room, which served as both a TV lounge and a drawing room.
“Arif, you are late again!! His mother shouted out from the
kitchen
“And let me warn you, if you get fired, I will personally
fire you from the house and your dad won’t be able to do anything about it!”
She came out of the kitchen sweating. She had a kind looking
face which was now contorted with rage. Arif said, “mom, ok, don’t worry.
Promise it won’t happen again.ok…” and he kissed her on the cheeks. He took the
milkshake mug from her hands gulped it down in one go.
He turned to the television and
switched it open and flicked to Geo News.
“You are seeing live visuals from
Washington DC, it is extraordinary. The
President of the United States has been murdered. I repeat. The President of
America Joseph Reid has been killed. He has been beheaded and his head is
missing. The security agencies have been unable to locate the head and security
all around USA and its bases have been put on red alert. The American nation is
stunned and answers are being sought. The CIA has attributed the murder to a
terrorist strike but no finger prints or any weapons have been recovered from
crime scene….To further discuss the situation we have invited the host of
Capital….”
Arif was looking at the TV too
stunned to speak anything. The President of United States, killed in the most
secure building on the planet, he thought. Like something from a Roland
Emmerich disaster movie.
“Mom, I know I will be late today,
but can you stop frying eggs and come out to see this”, he called out.
His mother came out of the kitchen
asked what was happening. Arif pointed to the TV screen which now showed a well-known
talk show host who, as Arif noticed, couldn’t suppress a smirk. Arif’s mom read
the ticker running on the screen and looked at Arif.
“Is this really happening? I am
telling you, expect America to attack Pakistan within the next few hours”, she
said darkly. And then she went back to the kitchen to fry eggs which left Arif
in no doubt that to his mother beheading of the most powerful man in the world
was not a big deal.
His phone was buzzing, he looked
and saw 35 twitter and 20 Facebook notifications. Of course the social media
would be buzzing, but Arif had long since come to the conclusion that chatter
on social media was about as productive as the chatter of crows on trees. Meaning.
It was just annoying. So much righteous outrage, so many laptop activists, so
many news analysts. He just got bored with it and never used it much. That
being said, he had made some very good friends on these websites and talked
with them only on SMS or voice calls.
Right he was fighting an urge to
stay and watch the incredible news or head to the office, to which by this time
he was already 40 minutes late. Therefore he wrenched his eyes away from the TV
and said good bye to his mother ran to the bus stop. Fortunately, he spotted
the bus coming and climbed on it. As soon as he sat on the seat, a text message
came on his phone, he opened it and saw that it was from his friend Kaleemullah,
an aspiring Jihadi and a Database Administrator working at Humanity Plus, a US
government funded NGO. Kaleemullah had assured Arif on numerous occasions that
his concern was to manage the company databases and not spread the ‘kufr’ of
Satan America, hence was doing nothing wrong. When Arif pointed out that his
work kept the databases of the ‘Kufar’ running, Kaleem said, “Hey, even Ali had
to work in the garden of a Jew. Bro, you have to. Bad financial times you know...Anyways…did
you check out Mathira’s pics?” Arif had always wondered, how Kaleem ever became
a Hafiz.
The message from Kaleem read
“Allah be praised, the great American
Satan is dead. Allah u Akbar”
Arif smiled. In his mind’s eye he
saw Kaleem doing a Gangnam in the mosque.
“Halal Gangnam”, he spoke to
himself smiling, which was heard by an old man in a white kurta, sitting beside
him. The old man gave him an annoyed partly patronizing look and turned his
face back to the window.
Another text message appeared on
Arif’s phone, this was from his friend Shahnawaz, who was the son of an industrialist
and was his former class fellow. The message,
“Dude, USA president is now Prezi-dead.
Fuck!! Whoever dunnit was a daddy cool”.
Arif replied, “Hi Five J “
To pass time, Arif started
reading older messages, and saw Sophia’s name on the list. Ah, Sophie, he thought
….when suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by blaring sirens of a dozen
police vans speeding past the bus.
Must be another suicide attack,
he thought. He inwardly prayed that it was a grenade attack rather than suicide
one. Suicide attacks had the potential to cause hour long traffic jams , while
grenade blasts caused jams lasting up to 15 minutes, firing, none. “Karachi” he
said to himself. When you are a Karachiite you don’t wish for killings to not happen,
instead you prayed for killings to happen less.
The bus conductor came to his eat
and asked for the fare,
’10 rupees brother, he said.
Arif took out his wallet and
pulled out 10 rupees from it, realizing that now his wallet was empty.
‘Brother, brother, brother’,
sighed the conductor while looking at the Arif empty wallet. Arif didn’t want a
bus conductor to pity him so he stowed back his wallet quickly in his pocket.
Suddenly he heard loud sounds
coming from outside the bus, the old man sitting next to Arif looked out of the
window and saw 5 helicopters in the sky going straight in the same directions
as the bus. And they were flying very low.
Arif had never seen 5 helicopters
flying together on the Karachi skies before and somehow the rushing police vans
and the helicopters seemed connected to Arif. He looked at the helicopters and
saw that they were 2 Aerospatiale SA 330 Pumas and 3 Mil-MI 7 helicopters, all
with Pak Army insignia on them.
‘Wow’ said Arif, looking at the
helicopters.
Then suddenly the bus drivers
swerved the bus to the left to make room for Army’s Armored Vehicles which went
rushing Past followed by ambulances.
“Whatever is happening, doesn’t look
good” the old man told Arif.
“Baba, the Chief Minister’s house
is straight ahead right? “
“Yes son, but if some blast had
taken place, we would have heard it because we are just 5 minutes away from the
minister’s residence.
Arif sent a sms to both Sophia,
Kaleem and Shah, asking if something had happened in Karachi. Then his phone
started ringing, the caller ID showed that it was a call coming from his home.
“Yes mom” Arif answered the
phone.
“Son, come home quick, your dad
is already home and your brother is coming back from school too.” his mom told
in a tone that suggested panic and worry.
“Mom, what happened??” Arif
asked.
“Son, it just came on the news,
although they are not confirming it. The President, Prime Ministers, and the Chief
Ministers of all the provinces have been found headless in their respective homes!”
"What??"
"Yes son, just come home
because angry mobs of the ruling party are setting on fire anything that they
come across, already 15 people have died within 10 minutes.....son come home
please"
"Ok mom, don't worry, I am
coming back, give the phone to dad"
“Your dad has went out to fetch Imran,
he seems to stuck in a traffic jam".
"OK mom I am coming
back."
Arif got up from his seat and banged
his hands on the bus door. The driver stopped the bus and he got out.
‘Fucking Hell’
Arif knew that if the CM was
killed, it would be a weeks’ worth of indiscriminate killings and economic
shutdown.
‘Bitches can’t even die without
killings 20, 30 folks’ he thought angrily, now crossing the road. ‘But fuck
man, 4 CMs and a President. Insane!!!... That would be months’ worth of strikes
and carnage…and no work’ Arif bitterly thought. Arif still remembered the
events after Benazir Bhutto’s assassination.
Suddenly he heard gunshots behind
him and saw that a gang of young men were forcing the shopkeepers to shutdown
shops. Aerial shots were being fired. He saw two policemen running for cover.
This, Arif saw as a signal that the area was now under gang control and the civilians
were on their own.
Ahead he saw a taxi in which the
driver was about to get in.
“Hey!!! Hey!” Arif shouted to the
driver as he ran toward the taxi.
The taxi was about to drive away
when Arif reached it.
“Hey, brother,…PECHS…please”
The taxi driver looked at him and
said, “You are lucky I was going in that direction, get in before we both get
shot”
“Fucking thanks man” and Arif got
into the taxi and they both drove away.
They reached Arif’s home, and
Arif saw his dad standing at the gate waiting.
“Dad I don’t have money, the fare
was 150 rupees”, said Arif as he came out of the taxi.
His dad took out 200 from his
wallet, and gave it to the taxi driver thanking him profusely.
“Sir it was nothing” and he gave
back the remaining 50 rupees.
Arif’s dad Mr. Hasan, insisted
that driver take the 50 rupees, but the driver only wanted the fare and
ignoring Mr. Hasan’s requests, he drove away.
“Good guy” Arif said while looking
at the taxi.
“May God keep him safe “said Mr.
Hasan.
“ God..yeah whatever..” Arif
mumbled and went inside the house, his dad followed him inside.
