“There’s so much to do. And there’s never enough time. I feel pressured and hassled all day, everyday, seven days a week….” complained Anwer Baig, as he flipped the pages of a diary frivolously.
8th August … where is it? I’d written in it myself! Where has it gone now!? For once, I’m running late for office and I can’t find the stupid things-to-do list! Where had I written it … Ahan!
Anwer Baig let out a cry of joy as he finally stumbled upon the 8th August list, though groaning as he glanced at the long list:
– OFFICE WORK.
– APPOINTMENT WITH MR. GHULAM MUSTAFA.
– MEETING IN THE OLD CITY HALL.
– SITE WORK.
– BUY SHIRTS, SALE “CAMBRIDGE SHOP” 50% OFF, LAST DAY OF SALE.
– BUY 3 KILO FISH, 2 KILO CHICKEN
– BUY ITEMS FOR DOMESTIC USE, LIST ENCLOSED BEHIND.
– APPOINTMENT WITH GHAURI ESTATE SERVICES’ DIRECTOR.
– WEDDING OF SON OF MR HABIB, DEAL TO BE FINALIZED WITH HIM LATER, SO IMPORTANT.
– BACK TO HOME.
Anwer snapped the black leather-bound diary shut, and flung it away, thinking that this was not to be one of his better days. Resolutely, and with great effort, he compelled himself to leave his relatively cool room, to bear the scorching heat outside.
Taking long strides in the torrid weather, he finally reached the bus stand, and joined the long queue, which patiently waited for the bus to arrive.
He marveled at his life.
He: who had secured straight A’s, who had procured a first-division MBA degree from SZABIST, now practically rotted in the battered office of a dilapidated airline?
“What did I do to deserve such a fate?”
Perhaps I had lost the four-leaved clover when I stepped into the farce that we christen as the “real world?” … he thought ironically.
Anwer sat on the footpath.
Rain poured in torrents: the stifling heat preceding the storm had quite dissipated. The world was being washed, and so were the ambitions, hopes, dreams that Anwar Baig had ever cherished in his life.
He had been fired on the account of economic recession.
Though, he was an excellent worker, the authorities had told him, he lacked experience in comparison to his other colleagues and hence, he was being fired.
Bunkum! He who had been working for 2 years in the company, was slighted by a person who had just joined the airline a month back?
But then … he thought bitterly … I didn’t have an influential source behind my back.
He had abandoned the footpath, and now strolled in the park that adjoined it.
The joyful cries of the children playing in the rain had shaken him out of his reverie. His attention diverted, he walked towards the children.
Particularly, his attention was fixated on a little girl who he had earlier espied watching him when he had established himself on the footpath, enshrouded in misery.
The little girl had been happily splashing in a puddle, whence her glance found him walking towards her.
She went rigid, her gaze frozen on him. Shades of hesitation crept up across her face.
She took a few steps back.
And, then a cheeky smile unfurled on her face and she cried out:
“It’ll work out, uncle!”
“What did you say?” Anwer shouted back.
The girl laughed loudly, and cried again,” I said it’ll work out!”
And saying this, she turned and ran to join her friends who had attacked the swings.
A smile spread across Anwer’s countenance.
He’d wrongly believed that it was his fate that had landed him into the employment of a decrepit airline, that due to it he had lost his job … but, no, in truth his fate had had other thoughts for him.
Yes, he had to traverse a difficult path. Yes, he had to suffer through the humiliation of getting fired.
But he had learned a lot on this road: perseverance, value of hard work, tolerance to minor issues of life.
And, now fate had taught him his last lesson by the words of a little girl: how to get up when you fall down.
Note: “Nankurunaisa!” is Japanese, meaning “It’ll work out!”