Static saturday

A 2pm start to the day. There was no breakfast. No lunch. I was in the middle of nowhere. My sister fixed me tea and biscuits. Oreo and tea, they don't have a working chemistry. I realised this today. Two biscuits in my stomach.

At three, we had to pick Fozee from Ojha hospital. I was not ready for this. Way too weak for any movement. Forget about high speed vehicular motion.

So I left for a long, hot bath. Singing out songs, old and new. Chalking out future events, big and small. The water was hot. I came out boiled.

By now, lunch was ready. Thank God. I had some frozen chicken curry from yester-week, and fresh roti (bread). This roti's wheat is red. It has its own taste. Metallic flavor. Probably good for health.


I googled this red roti. It took me to Marho Rajhastan, and then to Banaras.

Pick Fozee

3.45. Fozee called in. She inquired what was our plan. Zee informed that we shall be leaving shortly. Since it was already late, we fixed a lunch box for Fozee. Red roti and palak (spinach).

As is the norm for our Saturdays, Zee did the driving. She is driving fine. Switches her lane too often, without looking. Plus she prefers not to shift gears. So we could be on he the fast lane, Zee pedaling hard on the accelerator. Car still in the first gear. The engine would yell vroom.

We pick Fozee up at four. She says that she is real hungry. We offer her palak and roti. She says that she hates them. She adds that since she is hungry, she will have them anyway.

Her quote, "when faced with hunger, man can even resort to eating dogs."

Now we are driving back home. Ojha is a ten minute drive from home. Fozee tells us that she wants to buy a burqa. We laughed. She isn't moving to Saudi Arabia. No.

It has been a silent Saturday. It happens when both dad and mom kill the day sleeping. The hallway feels empty.

I fix the super evening tea. "Everybody loves your tea", Ami reminded me, as she moved back to her room to resume sleep.

the Wedding movie

For the umpteenth time, we watched Fozee's wedding movie. It is a four hour ordeal. Almost like a CCTV footage. We would move from scene to scene, person to person. Noting down each and every detail.

The whole event is now engraved on to our memories. The food, the dresses, the songs. Every person within that movie has developed into a close acquaintance. We know them all too well now.

Twenty minutes of film time goes at the groom. Every inch of the groom's dress filmed. The bride would get even more attention. Almost twice the time, four times the special effects. Hearts, flower petals.

And now we are done dining. Fozee gives us the second round of tea.

It is eleven in the night. The day about to end. A relaxed one indeed. Far, far away from the worries of work.

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Arificial routine is a place where I write with freedom, writing about the day to day things. There are no benchmarks to be met. Just me writing regularly about my university life in Karachi, Pakistan.


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