He reeked of stale burnt paper and alcohol .I started at him trying to match his gaze but I saw the glint in his eyes. It told me all I needed to know. He was drunk.


I had been cruising on that long stretch on Seaview towards Searock apartments. Was making good time. The streetlights were out. I wondered why .It was almost 11 in the night and I just don’t see how someone sitting at the KESC can justify Power Conservation or even load shedding at this hour . But it was there. Pitch dark. I could smell the sea and fought the urge to stop . I had to get to a friend and then I was supposed to meet up with Fazli . I looked around the deserted road and lit a cigarette. My Charade was one old lady. I can trust her with my eyes closed, not that she comes up to my expectations all the time .One of the headlights gave way just before the black cloak took the city that very day. When I looked up from my zippo , I saw a stationary car with no lights on stark in the middle of the road. I will hit that car, the only thought in my head came through a flurry of memories. One time when I was with everyone in the car and a big passenger bus hit us . Then we were at Bakra mandi and I saw a bakra ram into my dad’s side of the car . That was almost 20 years ago . But this might be different . And Bad .I was almost going 80 with the clear road atleast in my mind . Unfortunately it hadn’t occurred to me that some moron would be wise enough to park his car in the middle of the road. An instinctive “Ya Ali Madad” escaped my lips and I banked sharply on my right .The left light crashed into that car’s rear end . Bumpers collided .I heard the metallic bumper gnawing on the left side of my car .I managed to jam the breaks after a good 30 yards. I was furious. I got out and walked towards the car. A man got out. Angry. Yelling. Drunk. Tall. Id say Six three. This will be fun, I mumbled to myself.


He towered me as if he would thump me. I couldn’t keep a straight face anymore. He saw me smile. By that time I had started wondering, what was this guy thinking parking in the middle of the street. I glanced and to my horror I saw almost half a dozen women stuffed in that Mehran . Boy this takes guts. Pimp or no pimp, this is one drunk man and I didn’t want anything to do with him .I reprimanded him that it could’ve been a rather serious accident. We ‘educated’ each other about etiquettes if one is forced to park a car full of people in the middle of the road that too in the middle of the night. Emergency Lights. Indicators. You lifeless piece of stink .Maybe a couple of Goddamn bricks to cushion the car .He demanded a settlement. I reciprocated. I was in no mood to get my ass kicked by a giant drunk. Who knows what he was doing with a bunch of suspicious looking women acquainting curiously from behind their burqaaz at one in the night. We argued ; futility of which I realized latter. I was in no mood to cough up anything and I didn’t want anything from him. I knew he expected me to pay for the damages. It was a bare escape. I was shaking inside yet I made sure he understood my stance. I picked up a couple of bricks from the sidewalk and then placed them right behind his car to avoid any other reckless driver like me bumping into him. Then I walked away.


Dragging on my Captain Black , I got to Fazlis’s late . We chatted for a while. He showed me his bar. Nice , I observed .Dry yet tastefully done . I didn’t boast about mine. I didn’t have one.