Who says you can’t fall in love again once your heart has been played with? You fall in love everyday.
I often fascinate about how I come across so many people everyday, whom I will most probably never meet again. These strangers might not mean anything to us, but sometimes they leave their mark on our lives; they make us realize that the world is not as shallow as the image of it we have in our minds.
On my last day of 11th grade, in early 2010, me and a friend were waiting outside Quaid-e-Azam Complex (Hyderabad) for my friend’s driver, who was to pick us from there an hour back.
I remember how we always took a long path back home, how we cracked jokes with soldiers inside the Cantonment, how we talked about the same topics every single day and still did not get tired, how we bought drinks from a grocery store in the Cantonment instead of buying them from our school’s canteen, and how we once left our drinks inside a refrigerator at an army check-post.
Anyway, while both of us waited for the driver, we came across a cop. He started conversing to us in a friendly manner. He then wrote something on his palm and asked us its meaning. We couldn’t figure it out. Now I neither remember the text nor its meaning, but he told us that it was Dutch. An ordinary Pakistani cop who knew Dutch!
Earlier this year, during our last days of 12th grade classes, we had a 25-minute conversation with a teacher (who taught our juniors) after the Physics class, which was the last class of the day.
“What’s the use of your life when your purpose is to only have a bunch of grandchildren before you die?”
Even though my participation in the talk was hardly noticeable, but it left a big mark on my mentality. He also asserted that he was going to be the next big thing after Dr. Abdul Qadeer Khan. (Don’t judge me. I still haven’t decided whether I like AQ Khan or not.) So if you ever see a Hyderabadi scientist on TV, you know who he is. (Though I’m not too sure if he really is going to be the next big thing.)
And then there are people we never get to speak to. We only see them for a few seconds and off we head to our respective destinations. I refer to them as ‘traffic-light strangers’. I can’t speak for the rest of the humanity, but I imagine a thousand different scenarios during these few seconds.
“Dear God! That girl is pretty. *imagines getting married to her* *imagines dating her* *imagines talking to her about literature* *imagines going to her place for a rishta* *imagines her getting out of her car and getting into mine* *imagines having dinner at her house with her parents* Okay stop it, dude. Green light in 5 seconds. 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1. *pushes the accelerator and releases the clutch* Next traffic-signal in about 500 meters…”