“Get up and change your clothes!” my mother shouted at me for the fifth time.

My family and I were soon to visit my aunt in Hyderabad, and my mother had endlessly busied herself in making new clothes. Today, she wanted to collect some clothes from the tailor and give him the new ones, for which our entire family had to go all the way to North Nazimabad! I was reluctant to go, since it would be all mind-numbing, and I had loads of stuff to do, like finish reading my novel.

Mum was now standing in front of me, her cheeks turned tomato red and hands on her waist. Then she gave an ultimatum, “You better get ready in ten minutes. If you do, I will get you your favourite biryani.”

I looked over to the kitchen; there were no cooking pots, which slightly increased the odds of the offer coming to life. Slightly!

Without further ado, I changed into my casual shalwar kameez and, very soon, my father was honking, and calling on mum’s phone simultaneously. I went downstairs and upon entering the car, a mixture of his strong-scented perfume and the rice he had lately had, invaded my nostrils.

Dad was in a relaxed mood with his tie on the other seat and pocket emptied on the dashboard. When we were all seated, the ride began.

Our car was the only thing comfortable about the ride – my family, not at all! My sister kept on singing ‘I am a Barbie girl’ on repeat, while my mum and brother were utterly absorbed in their phones. Jaded, I looked out of the window. The sky was clear, except a few fluffy clouds floating and most of the shops on the road were open. I got completely lost in my thoughts. I felt happy for some time until … bang!

The car had been moving at a great speed, so when a pit came, there was a sudden jolt. That was a common incident happening every time, and I had only been able to draw up two possible reasons: the roads or dad. I had been once told that the last time roads in Karachi were carpeted was during the British rule, and there was no doubt in it; every road had deep potholes — the main roads were somewhat lucky though.

My dad, on the other hand, was not the best of drivers. He had been driving for more than ten years, through self-help and everything my father did was according to his own road rules. After having recovered from the ‘pit attack’, I looked outside the window once again.

By this time, we had reached Karimabad. When I looked out, all the stalls were brightly lit up and women were visiting them in bundles. I tried thinking about my future, then I was disturbed once again — by my sister! She was continuously jumping on my leg and still singing the song — even louder. Not until I shouted at her and removed her from my lap did she became quiet, and, surprisingly, didn’t complain. Another thud!

This time it was not a pothole, but three young, too young for riding a motorcycle, hipsters who had tried playing a trick on our car by turning towards the right. My father had panicked and turned the car on one side, however, there was no damage to the car. My mother, out of wrath, yelled at the kids, so that by the time she stopped, I had to cover my sister’s ears.

The tailor’s shop was getting nearer, and now that I could no longer concentrate on thinking, I switched to humming. I hummed all the tunes that came to my mind, and wouldn’t have stopped if it had not been for my mum snapping, “Be quiet and don’t do anything until we have reached! I already have a headache.”

Why can’t I do what I want? This was a question I ask myself everyday, but it’s still unrequited. Anyways, after an entire hour of such crazy traverse, we reached the tailor’s shop and my mother spent another hour at the shop. Watching my brother engrossed on his phone, it suddenly came to my mind: I had a test the next day!

And all this time, I didn’t even remember it! Now was my turn to really panic, but the worst part was that I could not tell mum to hurry up as then I would have to tell her the reason too, and that would earn me a scolding for not remembering it and not staying back home to study.

Some days are just not our days!

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 14th, 2018