The number kept rising day by day. Now I had to get rid of more of them than before and I tried each and every way but it never worked. The strange fondness with them increased time to time. They enjoyed disturbing me, and I enjoyed perishing them.

My mind mingled with loads of thoughts. “Who are they? What do they want? I think my room has been cursed by some phantom.” Whatever it was, I struggled a lot to solve the mystery but failed every time.

One fine morning, I was amazed to find out that they were in my wardrobe too. I had to clean up my cloths before wearing them every time. And each dress had almost half a dozen insects inside. “Oh God please help. What is it? Why is it? First the room, then the wardrobe, the cloths, books and now shoes too?”

Finally, I thought it was time to clean up the entire wardrobe and the closet too. The first thing that came to my mind; if the insects are in my closet, then they must have also attacked that precious pack of roasted pistachios which I had hidden in order to eat them all alone. But then I thought, the insects couldn’t possibly eat them since the plastic pack was sealed and they couldn’t eat 2 kilos of pistachios at any cost. I tried to comfort myself with that thought.

When I opened that secret section of the closet, I couldn’t believe my eyes; the packet was unsealed and full of holes all over it. The insects were there too. I thought not to waste the pistachios, let’s get the insects out and eat the untouched ones, if there were any. But I was even more stunned to see that the origin of insects was from no other place but the pistachio pack. I had been preserving it for the last 8 months but the time made them rot and thus causing the birth of those insects.

The mystery was solved; I was happy as well as sad. Sad because I lost my favourite pistachio pack and happy because I had no more insects in my room and I didn’t have to ramble hither and thither to hunt them down.

But the thing thought me a lesson, “Avarice is a big vice”. Share whatever you have and be wise.

I allowed one hour for travel, one hour to check in and a 15 minute safety margin. At 5am in the morning the roads were clear and the journey took 45 minutes. I parked, crossed the road, exchanged my pre booked parking ticket for a pass out of the car park (to use when I return), checked in and passed through security all within 10 – 15 minutes.

The experience is so easy when compared to the pain of flying from one of the big London airports like Heathrow or Gatwick that I sit in the departure lounge holding a cup of coffee wondering what I’ve missed. I have a moments panic as I look for my suitcase before I remember I’ve already checked it in.

The shopping opportunities at Bournemouth are minimal as the whole airport facility seems to consist of three portable cabins bolted together. They haven’t even levelled the ground so there is a ramp between each of the prefabricated units.

I’m determined to be calm about the flight so as we charge down the runway I focus on my book and ignore my clammy palms. The flight leaves on time and two and a half hours later I arrive in Alicante, Spain. It’s overcast and not very warm. I get the keys to my hire car but although I find bay 23 there’s no car there. Just as I’m thinking about whether I know enough Spanish to complain I realise that there are two sets of numbers, one where all the hire cars are and one where I am.

Eventually I find my car and head north towards Calpe. I’ve written the directions down carefully because this is the first time I’ve travelled to our property on my own. I’ve written out a sticky label with “DRIVE ON THE RIGHT” in bold letters to remind me which side of the road I’m supposed to be on. I stick the label onto the steering wheel and set off. I find the most dangerous time for driving on the wrong side of the road, is when I’ve been in the country a few days and I have a break for say lunch. When I get back in the car I’m relaxed everything seems normal and if there’s no other traffic I might set off on the wrong side.

For the first few miles I drive slowly to the annoyance of local motorists as I adjust to the new conditions. I don’t feel confident about the exact width of the car and I’m concerned that I might hit the wing mirrors of the kerb side vehicles.

The thing that I always notice when I come to Spain is how it seems to be so dry yet fertile. The earth along the coast is just like yellow ochre straight out of a tube of paint. The ground is sparsely covered with tough skinned plants which look like they are built to survive drought, but if you travel just a few kilometres in from the coast the hills are covered with orange groves. Along the coast route there is little of the old Spain remaining the buildings are mostly modern, constructed of concrete painted in bright yellows and white often topped off with red tiles. The coast is built up for miles here except where there are cliffs.

The most noticeable item along the way are the skyscrapers of Benidorm a little fishing village in the 1970s it is now a sprawling metropolis with many tall buildings (I guess about 100) mostly apartment blocks.

An hour and quarter later I arrive at out property. Unlock the gate, walk to the front door, it looks OK from outside but last time I came water had got through the roof and part of the ceiling fell on me. But … that is another story.

My mind mingled with load of thoughts. Who are they? What do they want? I think my room has been cursed by some phantom. Whatever it was, I struggled a lot to solve the mystery but failed every time.

I was amazed one fine morning; they were in my wardrobe too. I had to clean up my cloths before wearing every time. And each cloth gets almost half a dozen insects. Oh God please help..What is it? Why is it? First the room, then the wardrobe, the cloths, books and now shoes too?

So Finally I thought, now to clean up the wardrobe and the closet too, the first thing came to my mind, if the insects are in my closet, then they must have also attacked my roasted pistachios which I hid in order to eat them all alone. But they can’t because it is packed in plastic, and they can’t eat 2 kilo at any cost. I was trying to make myself comfort. Now I couldn’t believe my eyes, the packet was unsealed, full of holes everywhere. The insects were there too. I thought not to waste the pistachios, let’s get the insects out and eat the saved one. But I was stunned to see. The origin of insects was from nowhere but the pistachios. I was preserving it for 8 months but the time made it rot and gave birth to insects.

So the mystery was solved, I was happy and sad as well. Sad because I lost my pistachios and Happy because I have no more insects in my room, and I don’t have to ramble hither and thither to kill.

But the thing thought me a lesson, “Avarice is a big vice”. Share whatever you have and be vise.

During those six minutes you will have more than enough time to contemplate the horror of what is just about to happen to you and to ask the question ‘why me?’ On the plus side this is the only time in your adult life that you’ll be able to piss your pants without being embarrassed, you’ll never have to join an airport check in queue again and you’ll be in no doubt that this is the right time to ask God to forgive your sins. Even if you don’t believe in the Christian God there’s no harm in having a cost free insurance policy, is there?

Such are my thoughts every time I set off to the airport. On one particular occasion I remember returning from Chicago to Heathrow, London on an Air India flight on the day the terrorist plot to detonate liquid explosives on a flight from the UK to the USA was discovered.

We arrived at about 6pm for the flight at 8pm to discover that our flight was delayed at least 4 hours and that the baggage check-in was being especially thorough. Now instead of just checking our bags and seeing them disappear onto a conveyor belt we had to pile them up in a sort of luggage mountain so the security guards could practice their climbing skills and open a proportion of the bags to trawl through their contents. Contrary to instructions one or two bags had locks on them which were cut off with wire cutters. Don’t security guards know that a locked zip up suitcase, which most of them are these days, can be easily opened by sticking a biro into the zip and waggling it about? The suitcase can then be rezipped and will be as good as new.

Travelling from large airports is never a pleasant experience due to the endless queuing, the restrictions, the fact that we all have to be treated as terrorist suspects, the boredom and our own deep held need to compete with our fellow human beings. To which we now added the fear of being blown up by terrorists. Our response was to laugh bravely making weak jokes about the explosive dangers of eating bean curry.

The endless queuing starts in the carpark where we wait for the bus to airport, then for the check in, then for the security, then for the bus to the aeroplane and finally we queue to take our seat on the plane. If the queuing is not well organised tensions arise as people try to guess which queue will take the shortest time, casually join the queue not at the back but part way down at the side. Sometimes people with knowledge know that the signed route is not the shortest one and can skip ahead of the queue. All people have an acutely tuned sense of fairness so anyone seen to be gaining an advantage generates irritation in fellow passengers.

On this occasion we watched as a particularly pushy family of four, each with an enormous bag bulging at the seams and big enough to contain a baby elephant weaved their way to the front of the queue and tried to claim their bags were hand luggage. The check-in girl was having none of this and firmly but politely advised them that the bags had to go in the hold and they’d have pay for overweight bags. There was a bit of tension before the family accepted the decision. You’ve got to sympathise with the check-in staff its often not a nice job.

Our flight was called and we sat down at the departure gate, where this same family started a queue so as to be first on the plane. It was with some satisfaction that I noticed that they had to stand for nearly an hour before we were allowed to take our seats for the flight.

Eventually we took off, 5 hours late, for the long journey back to London. Back in my car in London the petty squabbles of the airport behind us I ponder the fact that 100 years ago this journey would have cost me several years salary, could well have taken months, most of the time spent in enforced idleness on a ship with a much higher risk of dying at sea that we run now even with terrorists. Perhaps we all need to make sure we’ve thought about what really matters before entering a major airport.

He came upstairs to my room and that’s how the conversation went.

Adeel: What are you doing Amir bhaai?

Me: (working on one of the chapters of a short novel) I am working.

Adeel: Why are you working?

Me: Well, aahh, I don’t know, because I have to I guess.

Adeel: Ahan. So you like computers a lot?

Me: Aaa, well yes, sort of, I mean I like them a little.

Adeel: Then why don’t you switch them on only a little?

Me: Aaa…well…aaa

Adeel: (pointing to my bed) Who sleeps here?

Me: I sleep here.

Adeel: So you sleep upstairs as well and downstairs as well?

Me: No, I just sleep upstairs.

Adeel: You don’t sleep downstairs because your mother beats you?

Me: Well, that’s definitely not the reason. I just sleep here because my room is up here.

Adeel: Ahan. (Looking at the train passing by outside) So where does this train live? Where is its house?

Me: Aaa, well…. I think… It lives about a kilometer from here, her house is called a Railway Station.

Adeel: Ahan… So what are you doing now?

Me: I am still working?

Adeel: Why are you working?

Me: Aaah…

Adeel: Because you are old?

Me: Yes exactly, thank you, actually that’s the reason.

Adeel: But why are you old?

Me: Well, as much as I hated to be, I guess I just had to grow old

Adeel: And by the way, you are not the same Amir bhaai anymore

Me: Really? How come?

Adeel: Well you had a chubby face earlier on; but now you have become some other Amir bhaai

Me: Aah, well, what can I say.

Adeel: (Picking up a peanut pack from the table) So is this the only peanut pack left with you?

Me: Yes, but you can have it.

Adeel: Ahan, ok. I think I should leave now.

Me: All right, well take care of yourself.

Adeel: Bye.

I mean for me it has to be the most dreaded visit of them all, something I must do, and eventually everyone does it too.

How is it possible to go in and come out the same man or person u were before a life changing experience that can either comfort you with a great smile or leave you with so much pain, yet you come back again, hoping that this pain will go away!

As I walk my final steps, I come upon a door, the door that I fear but nevertheless welcomes me. I knock and the doors opens, showing me a glimpse of what is to come…

I sit and start to talk and then to another room I go in… Heart beats faster, hair start standing up, and the sweat glands start doing their job in this cold weather. Oh God, make this an easy visit, make this all go away; help me through it.

“Sit! My son” I hear the voice vaguely. “Yes over there, feel comfy in the chair”

Screams in my head make way to come out and I hardly try to suppress them, as I start biting my lips so I won’t shout or cry out!

As I finally rest on the chair; he comes close and starts looking at me with experienced eyes.

“What’s the matter?” he asks.

‘Nothing in particular’ I mutter.

“Great! Now open your mouth!” and I obediently open.

Man I hate going to the dentist!

No, not possible.
Not possible to get a ticket for Jhelum or a ticket for Lahore to change?
Not at all possible. Ticketing problem.
But you have a computer ticketing service.
Ah yes, but the system is down today. Saturday, you see.
The system is always down on Saturdays?
…hmmmm…usually.
So where could I get a bus that goes to Jhelum?
At bus station.
Any bus station? Any one in Bahawalpur?
No…only one.
So which one?
I am not sure.
Not sure?
…hmmmm…maybe by Farid Gate there is bus station for Jhelum.
There is no bus station at Farid Gate, only rickshaw stand…
…ahhh…yes you are right. Maybe further up road…
But you think that is where I can get Jhelum bus, maybe?
…hmmm…maybe…maybe not…
Thank you.
No problem Sir.

Sargodha?
No, Jhelum. Jhelum…near ‘Pindi.
You want bus for ‘Pindi?
No Jhelum.
…ahhh! Jhelum! Yes, over there…Niazi travels…they bus go Jhelum.
Thank you.
No problem.

Jhelum? Hmmmm…maybe.
C’mon, you must know if you have a bus to Jhelum.
Yes, Sir, we do.
OK I want to go on Monday, at what time does it leave?
Maybe you don’t want to go to Jhelum, sir.
Yes, I do, I want to go to Jhelum.
There are no tickets, sorry Sir.
You are fully booked for Monday and today is Saturday?
No Sir, not book full but no tickets.
Why?
Problems…many problems.
Like what? All I want is to go to Jhelum, what is the problem with that?
Road is problem, Sir.
Road? Problem? How is road problem?
Very bad Sir. You would not like it.
What sort of bad? Bumpy? Bumpy no problem for me.
No Sir, very bad road. Not bumpy. Very good road to Jhelum.
Not bumpy bad road?
Very bad. Train is better.
Train?
Yes train.
Why is train better?
Because then there is no bad road and you are happy.
I will be very happy if you sell me a ticket to Jhelum…
Very problem Sir…
…ahhh…is problem dacoo? (1)
Sometimes Sir, and very problem for goras. (2)
Always dacoo this road?
…hmmm…sometimes…
…so better get train?
…yes Sir, better train.
Thank you.
No problem sir.

So which train is best to get for Jhelum?
Not possible.
But the Rohi and the Awam expresses go to Jhelum…it says so here.
Yes they do but not possible. Booked.
How do you know they are booked?
Maybe they are booked.
But you don’t know if they are booked?
…maybe…
So tell me the times of trains to Jhelum.
They are in the night.
At what time they leave Bahawalpur? And is there a sleeper coach?
No Sir, no sleeper, only a/c lower.
Any Parlour class?
No.
So only hard?
Yes.
So at what time and how long it takes to Jhelum?
Very very long.
How long?
Many hours. Many.
So how many? And what time it leave Bahawalpur?
Maybe twelve.
Twelve hours travelling or it leaves at twelve?
Yes.
At what time it leaves?
…hmmm…9.30.
At night?
Yes.
So can I have a ticket for Monday?
No.
No?
No. This only enquiry this wallah along he tickets.

Hello. Ticket for Jhelum on Monday, a/c lower please. Awam Express.
Hmmmmm…maybe…hmmm…no. Booked.
What…all booked?
All booked.
There are 68 seats in a/c lower coach and they are all booked on Monday?
Yes, all booked. Maybe you go later?
No I want to go on Monday…or maybe Sunday. Any chance Sunday?
…hmmm…no…all booked.
Any other train go to Jhelum?
No, only Awam. Maybe you go by coach. Try Daewoo.
Thank you, I was there this morning, and they do not stop at Jhelum.
Hmmm…very problem sir. Go to ‘Pindi, then Jhelum bus.
But ‘Pindi is 70 miles on from Jhelum…
Hmmm…
Thank you.
No problem, Sir.

Ticket for ‘Pindi please, Sunday evening.
But we do not stop at Jhelum, this Manager he explain you.
That’s OK, just a ticket for ‘Pindi.
But you want to go to Jhelum…
That’s right.
So why you want ticket for ‘Pindi? Train goes Jhelum. Niazi go Jhelum.
Train booked, Niazi say dacoo…maybe…
…ahhh…yes…dacoo on that road, this why we have armed guards on bus.
So why not go another route with no dacoo?
No Sir, this very good road through Jhelum, very fast.
I see…any chance of a ‘Pindi ticket for Sunday night?
Are you sure Sir, we not go Jhelum…
Just give me a ‘Pindi ticket.
Certainly Sir, that will be 550 rupees seat number sixteen, leave 9 p.m.
Thank you.
No problem, Sir.

——————————————

1. Dacoo = Highway Robbers

2. Goras = Pale Faces

Son: Hey dad, can I take the Camel, pleaaaaaaase??!!

Father: Nooooo, you took it yesterday and you broke his leg. It was my first racing camel YOU BLOODY IDIOT. No way you’ll lay hands on it again!

Son: Ok let me take the Donkey. I will feed him on the way.

Father: And how AM I SUPPOSED TO GO TO WORK??!!!

And then the father looks at the mother:
You spoiled the kid. He wants the donkey to show off in front of the girls.

They also think we live in tents. If that was true, we would have different kind of conversations.

“I went back tent and found it on fire, I bought new cloth and made a new tent”

One early Friday, my manager called me up and said: “Drop everything and work on this”.

So I dropped everything to work on a Data Entry job…ONE month contract with $10 per hour! Who in the world would want to take up a job for one month and with that low rate???

Anyways I start searching for resumes and calling people and …you know how people can get real sarcastic sometimes..like this British gentleman: “You have a job for me?? Oh I AM haaaaaappy”.

I tried to sound as polite as possible: “Well sir, you might be interested in my job. I will email you the job description if you are not interested you DON’T HAVE TO REPLY.”

British candidate: “Wait a second, where are you from ..cuz you sure do have an ACCENT”.

Me: “Well, I’m originally from Egypt”.

British candidate: “OKK , listen your majesty Cleopatra. You caught me in the middle of watching a football game. Now I’ll make a deal with you: if my team won, I promise to give you a call back. BUT if they lost and that’s what it looks like, I do not need a job, cuz I’ll be hunting down THOSE BLOODY IDIOTS WHO MADE THEM LOSE”.

And he hangs up on me.

I don’t give up. I call someone else, someone with the name Monique Francois. I go over her resume and see that she worked a job for only two weeks. I wanted to make sure she left on good terms.

“Hey Monique, what happened in that job. It’s only two weeks”.

Monique: “Yes, it’s the misteek of the manager”.

Me: “oh really, what happened, can you tell me”.

Monique: “Yes, he’s … mm what’s the word… yea NOT professionaaal. He would come to my cupicaal and I expect him to say something nice like Monique you look beautifooll, your perfume is nice. BUT HE DOESN’T. He stands there looking at my monitor, then looking at me and says: What is that?? This is not acceptable. Come to my offeece.
I say ok ok ok just let me finish the game. BUT HE DOESN’T.

He starts yelling in front of everybody in the offeece and he says: YOU’RE FIRED.

I feel so humiliated. I started collecting my stuff from my cupicaal. I collect all my Bourjois makeup, all my Givenchy perfumes, all the photos de les modelles from my cupe and I put them all in my Prada purse. I then luke at him and say : you can not fire me. I QUIT.”

Me: “oh ok Monique, but I’m sorry we will have to pass on your resume. I’m really sorry”.

Monique: “No no S’ll vous plait, you should hire me. I’m a multi task person. I can do two things in the same time”.

Me: “Oh really!! How is that?”

Monique: “When I was working at Piere’s beauty salon, I used to apply the manicure on the nails of the customers and tell them how it looks beautiful IN THE SAME TIME”.

Me: “Ok sounds great, but still we can not send your resume to the client”.

Monique: “S’ll vous plait..I need the money. I have a surgery next week”.

Me: “Ohhh Monique I’m sorry; are you ok, are you in pain”??!!

Monique: “I have been in pain for 25 years now and it’s about TIME I get a NOSE LIKE JENNIFER LOPEZ”.

Me: “Ok that’s it. I’m really sorry we will have to pass on your resume and I promise to keep it and I swear to give you a call back if I had any jobs FOR MODELS”.

And I hang up on her!

I still don’t give up.

I call someone else. She tells me she’s not interested and she hangs up on me.

Few minutes later, the phone rings……………I see her number on my phone. I pick up the phone and introduce myself and then I hear her restless voice: “This is Veronica Novoselsky I just hung up on YOoooU”.

Me: “Oh hi Veronica, how are you”?!

Veronica: “Listen, I know I told you I’m not interested, but MY HUSBAND…think we should think about it. As we need the money to feed the dogs. Yea he has a dog and I have a dog and even our dogs do not get along, still we need to share the money. So How much money are we talking about here”??

Me: “Errr…mmm it’s paying $10 per hour”.

Veronica: “WHAT?? Do you have any idea HOW MUCH THE DOG’S FOOD COST”???

Me: “No, I never had a dog, I once had a cat, but she passed away and I never had cats since then”.

Veronica: “OK, listen you CAT WOMAN. I want …11 dollars or we have no deal.”

Me: “Ok we can talk to the client”.

Veronica: “OK, so when are you going to send me the STUFF”?

Me: “What stuff”?!!!!!

Veronica: “The DRUGS… THE DESCRIPTION OF COURSE”.

ME: “Ooh…the job description ..I’m sending it right this moment. I just need you to answer a couple of questions and also need”… (interrupted)

Veronica: “wait a second…(yelling away from the phone) WHAT HONEY?! You sold the dogs?? (now addressing me) hey sorry we sold the dogs, we don’t need the job. But if we had any other dogs we will give you a call”.

Since the rest of us in our household are very tall, sadly, she gets little sympathy.

But, I feel for her, I really do!

The light pull cord got old and rotten in the bathroom and prone to breaking.

Each time it broke and was tied up again, its end advanced gradually towards the ceiling.

Eventually, my wife gave in and protested that she was having to jump up and down to switch on the light and was afraid when she came down she might break through the floor.

Also, the neighbors were complaining about the noise … Something about elephants.

She still insisted she wasn’t short, of course… Or fat.

We all felt for her, of course.

Finally, I fixed the cord pull with a new one, thinking she’d suffered enough.

I thought she would be really grateful. But she still moaned.

OK, the cord ended six inches away from the floor.

I was trying to be kind…

There’s no pleasing some people.

An inspiration and a mentor, Mr. Rob Hopcott is a seasoned writer with an amazing collection of short stories. This is his first piece of writing for Libre Magazine, a response to Marwa Nasser’s  I Am Not THAT Short.  

Visit Rob Hopcott’s website at http://onlineflashfiction.blogspot.com/