are these cartoons? Nope..







I don’t like to complain. But I hate Mondays..and Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays..you get the picture. So, when did this hate relationship begin? I do not know. I think it goes back to the time I was enrolled in grade one. I did not see that coming. One day I am playing in the bushes beside my parents’ house and the next I am locked in a classroom, wearing what everyone else was wearing — it was some days later that I found out that it was called a uniform. Like all normal and well-adjusted kids, I did not understand two things. A) why I had to be in one room until three in the afternoon. B) why did the teachers not like me? I figured if I pretended to be a dead fish, I’d make it through school okay.


It was a Wednesday, when I finally convinced my otherwise immovable and unbudgeable friends to visit Anarkali bazaar with me. They simply didn’t want to go. For one thing, it is June. June in Lahore is like living inside a tandoor, with brief spells of respite when rain or breeze arrives, uninvited. The tandoor bakes you and wrings all the water out of your very bones. So, it was that kind of day.

Writer.. Lahore, Pakistan.

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