SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM FALLOUT...
Yesterday I spent 4 1/2 hours in a traffic jam.
Foru and a half hours of my life that I will never get back. This is how it went:
HOUR 1: Started to get angry. Sat in my car composing articulate rants against the condition of the country to be delivered to President Musharraf if we ever meet.
HOUR 2: Resigned myself to the situation. Still promised to kidney-punch the President if I ever meet him but otherwise just allowed a general malaise to set in.
HOUR 3: Started to worry that maybe I (and the thousand or so other cars that were gridlocked with me) was trapped in a sort of Space-Time Continuum trap. Caused by the collision of two anti-matter quarks in the Quantum Foam, a rupture in the fabric of reality had sucked us all into an infinite loop wherein we would just keep inching forward endlessly, forever trapped in a moebius strip of cruelty. Alternate theory was that the Apocalypse occured somewhere between the time when I left my house and the time I got on the Baloch Colony Flyover, and all of the people in this traffic jam were actually in a sort of hell. Our punishment being to stay in the traffic jam together for the rest of eternity, a situation made all the more cruel by us clinging to the hope that the next time we move we will be able to drive out to our freedom.
HOUR 3.5: Societies start to form. I find myself a member of a group of truck drivers and van drivers. We share cigarettes and laugh, all the while trying to decide who we would eat first when it came time.
HOUR 3.9: Insanity sets in. Fantasy realities in which I can transform my car into a Jump Jet and fly over the traffic jam start to take over. I find I have spent almost ten minutes making jet-engine sounds and pressing imaginary buttons on the ceiling of the car.
HOUR 4: The radio plays "STREETS HAVE NO NAME" by U2. I decide, despite my aethiesm, that God does indeed exist and he is a sadist.
HOUR 4.5: One of the van drivers spots an opening in the barrier that runs alongside us and decides to risk driving through it and over mountains of rock and rubble until he can get to the tarmac on the otherside. We let him go first and after he makes it safely across, follow suit. My axle scrapes the ground and my tires squeal in protest but I have the devil on my mind and Evil Kneivel in my passenger seat. Crest a final hill of pebbles and reach civilization. Drive home at a 120 miles an hour, laughing like a maniac with a burning need to urinate.
All of the above is true.
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Don't forget to bookmark www.samishah.com.
Foru and a half hours of my life that I will never get back. This is how it went:
HOUR 1: Started to get angry. Sat in my car composing articulate rants against the condition of the country to be delivered to President Musharraf if we ever meet.
HOUR 2: Resigned myself to the situation. Still promised to kidney-punch the President if I ever meet him but otherwise just allowed a general malaise to set in.
HOUR 3: Started to worry that maybe I (and the thousand or so other cars that were gridlocked with me) was trapped in a sort of Space-Time Continuum trap. Caused by the collision of two anti-matter quarks in the Quantum Foam, a rupture in the fabric of reality had sucked us all into an infinite loop wherein we would just keep inching forward endlessly, forever trapped in a moebius strip of cruelty. Alternate theory was that the Apocalypse occured somewhere between the time when I left my house and the time I got on the Baloch Colony Flyover, and all of the people in this traffic jam were actually in a sort of hell. Our punishment being to stay in the traffic jam together for the rest of eternity, a situation made all the more cruel by us clinging to the hope that the next time we move we will be able to drive out to our freedom.
HOUR 3.5: Societies start to form. I find myself a member of a group of truck drivers and van drivers. We share cigarettes and laugh, all the while trying to decide who we would eat first when it came time.
HOUR 3.9: Insanity sets in. Fantasy realities in which I can transform my car into a Jump Jet and fly over the traffic jam start to take over. I find I have spent almost ten minutes making jet-engine sounds and pressing imaginary buttons on the ceiling of the car.
HOUR 4: The radio plays "STREETS HAVE NO NAME" by U2. I decide, despite my aethiesm, that God does indeed exist and he is a sadist.
HOUR 4.5: One of the van drivers spots an opening in the barrier that runs alongside us and decides to risk driving through it and over mountains of rock and rubble until he can get to the tarmac on the otherside. We let him go first and after he makes it safely across, follow suit. My axle scrapes the ground and my tires squeal in protest but I have the devil on my mind and Evil Kneivel in my passenger seat. Crest a final hill of pebbles and reach civilization. Drive home at a 120 miles an hour, laughing like a maniac with a burning need to urinate.
All of the above is true.
-------------------------------------
Don't forget to bookmark www.samishah.com.
posted by Sami at 2:47 AM
7 Comments:
We were lucky we got home just ahead of the traffic jam. I truly feel for you and the hundreds others stuck int he jam.
What all will we have to endure??
i spent two hours in traffic. less than you. muahahahahha.
Congratulations!! You lived to tell the tale :)
Once caught in a traffic jam for an hour I started Hallucinating, the cars ahead of me started lookin like big Balloons and for a second I was in this Cartoon world, with a big needle in my hand ready to pop each one of these balloons to make the road clear enough to let my leetle car pass through……. But then a trucker's Horn woke me up.. :(.
Either Spread on a road or on a slice of bread, I hate Jam.
Damn..... looks like Traffic is getting from bad to worse in Karachi!!
I wonder if this would be soled after all the proposed flyovers and highways are built ( probab close to the election time, LOL)
i was lucky that day! steered clear of baluch colony and went through sh-e-faisal :D
ofcourse, i was warned before hand by a friend, so that helped
btw.. very funny desc sami!!
A horrible traffic jams faced by karachi pepople which everyone keeps telling me about.
I once waited form 8pm to 3am(yes morning time) which was a 15 minutes drive from Leicester. but these 7 hours we save somebody life as there was an accident at M1.
But waiting for president . damn
imagining you sitting in the heat of your car...sweating...getting angry...clenching your jaw (unshaven)...your big, beautiful hands wrapped around the steering wheel...i'm getting squirmy visualizing
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