The Politically Incorrect Story

‘So this is how your tongue is formed.That’s all for today’

I gather my stuff and race towards the auditorium as the teacher dismiss us from embryology.

‘We need to get good seats,Hurry up!!!’

All the white coats file at the desired place.The auditorium is named after some dead guy,I guess,teaming with people.We still manage to get the seats in the centre.A very important politician is about to visit the college.They are going to shoot a talkshow.I think of my sandwich,lying somewhere’s in my bag.

No way am I gonna eat in front of all these people.

It takes forever to install the shooting material.The overhead cameraman(flustered guy,with unkempt hair) keeps hovering over our heads.The Politician arrives with the talk-show host,amid whoops and cheers.The shooting starts.The students ask quetions.The blame game begins.I appreciate the man’s confidence as he deflects every hostility,every accusation,making his party seem as angels.A politcian’s tongue.LOL.The sessions runs for almost two and a half hours.I clap my hands sore as I appreciate tha guts of my classmates,the questions they ask.I also regret not eating the sandwich.The program ends.I manage to get the politician’s autograph and a picture with the host.On my way home,I give my lunch to a street child.

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“Happy Birthday Falak”.

It’s 12’o clock.I wish my sister.She beams at me.All the Nayyer siblings are Aries.Warm,Spontaneous and friendly.

The day turns out to be fabulous.Her Friends throw her a surprise birthday party.And the Ble.ue dress she wears is love 🙂

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‘They are going to kill us all ‘

We disapprovingly look at all the decorations on the political party office,in our street.And the nearby round about.Such an example of self exhibition in a terrorism stricken country is NOT affordable.Making yourself such an easy target.I feel utterly dejected as the kite discos off.

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MAHAAAAAAM!!!!!You got a new haircut!!!!!!

I brush my hair aside.It’s cut really short.It’s hard to believe that i am the same girl who had waist length hair back in school.Now it touches my chin.Am I not radical?  😉

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Hey Mum stop shaking the bed’. The bed shakes again.I jump from my bed and peer undreneath.Nothing.My brother flies into the room ‘The bed is shaking’.Does’nt take an Einstein to hit home.

Earthquake.

The electricity’s gone as uasual.We hear voices.The watchman crashes the scene.

‘Baji.They say it was an earthquake’ he is quivering with excitement.Bouncing on his heels.

Later that day

The market.The earthquake was a was a minor one.Actully it was focused on Iran.But it was felt in Pakistan as well.I bruise my hand as I try to manage my thumping head.My eye rests on a bag with a picture of Dora the Explorer.

God.Everything is determined to make me puke today.

The next day

‘Many of my patients yesterday came with vertigo and nausea.The aftereffects of earthquake’

I hear my community medicine teacher,Dr.T.So this was the reason of that headache .

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“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM’

God.What was that???

The explosion shake us.There is a blast on the roundabout near my house.People die.Police confirms a remote control bomb.

Five Days later:

Five explosions within five days.Shakes the city.

Terrorism.It will kill us all one day.

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Having the overhead cameraman hovering has its own advantages.The show is on air.I see my shots frequently.I look kinda pretty on T.V(or that’s what they tell me 🙂 

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‘So who are we going to vote for???’ I look quizzically at my sister.She looks thoughtful.

‘Nobody is going anywhere.It’s too dangerous’.So now our mother has forbidden us to cast votes.

11th May,election day…

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No matter how you spent our April.Bet it wasn’t as eventful as mine.

 

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The Politically Incorrect Story

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