Step 1: Not Letting Your Entire Family Drop You At The Airport.
Family for white people is pretty simple. It's mother, father and maybe siblings. But for Pakis, it's the opposite. We have, ammi, aboo, bhai, behen, chachi, chachu, khala, khaloo, mamu, mumani, bhabi, bhatiji and the list could go on and on.
So, forgive me for not wanting seven thousand people dropping me off at the airport at two in the fucking morning. Ahem, sorry, freaking. That's another thing, Pakistanis don't let you cuss in English, however, Urdu is an exception.
It's currently one thirty in the morning, I haven't slept all night. You can't blame me, if you were in my shoes you would be excited about leaving this shithole too. Don't get me wrong, I do love Karachi but America sounds so, so, so much better.
My flight leaves at six but yet again, because I'm Pakistani I have to leave the house three hours prior to my flight. So, I grab my bag and head out the door leaving several people behind in tears.
"Allah Hafiz, beta" They shout "Bhool na mat Skype karna"
I nod, and rush out the door.
Today is my flight to America. To be more specific, New York. I got a full scholarship to New York University to study Law. One of the biggest achievements in my family if you ask me. Because we are in Pakistan, it's now two thirty and I am still sitting in the car hours away from the airport. The airport is always far away from where everything is. And, we have to be extra cautious about everything because I don't want to die. If you haven't noticed, it isn't the safest place on Earth.
At the airport, I walk around with every shop closed around me. Work? What's work? That's the mentality of the people here. I thud down onto one of those hard, dirty ass, uncomfortable chairs. You know, those ones with the holes in the back. The steel ones. Oh wait, you don't. You're not from here. Lucky bastard.
After a wait that was so much longer than it was supposed to be, I settle into my cramped up economy seat. Next to me I had a woman who was snoring so loudly the Earth could shake and on my other side a woman who seemed so tired of life was trying to shush her baby. She reminds me of my eldest sister, Shamsa, who never followed her dreams and got married way too young and has two kids. She secretly always wanted to become a fashion designer but was forced into the engineering field. But she also gave up on that and is taking care of her kids -- Faria (5) and Junaid (an obnoxious 1 year old; I still love you though!) -- and her overweight husband, Hamza now.
After begging and pleading the air hostess who could not care less about me, she finally let me change my seat in the absolutely empty flight so I could continue the rest of my eighteen hour journey in peace-ish. Period cramps are a thing too.
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A/N
No offence to any Pakistanis out there, but this is the blunt truth :). Pakistan is an awesome country and we highly recommend visiting if you haven't already but everything has its cons and most of this is exaggerated for comedic purposes.
With having said that, tell us what you think and here's the mini glossary of the words you may have not understood in the chapter.
ammi- mother
aboo- father
bhai- brother
behen- sister
chachi- aunt
chachu- uncle
khala- another aunt
khaloo- another uncle
mamu- another uncle
mumani- another aunt
bhabi- sister-in-law
bhatiji- niece.
Allah Hafiz- goodbye
beta- dear
Bhool na mat Skype karna- Don't forget to Skype.
