Circa 2009, I went to Saddar GPO in Karachi to send a parcel abroad. I was attended by a very old and frail looking man who was sitting behind a table handling the parcels, weighing and packaging them into their own unique style. He looks at my returning address and goes: Old Man: Your address looks familiar to me. Isnt that the building from the British Raj? Me: Yep, thats the one. Old Man: Aaaah. I see. I was on the field as a postman back in the day. I remember this area like the back of my hand. Me: Wow, Im sure you do. Old Man: You guys were in the coal business back then werent you? Me: Uh yeaaahh. Howd you figure that out? Old Man: Dont you remember me? I used to bring posts to your house. I served in your area until 81. Me: Umm I was born in 83. Old Man: Arent you Khawaja Mohammad Akram? Me: Im his son. The look on his face was priceless. It was kind of like if youre supposed to be at a meeting at 9 am and you woke up at 2 pm. You missed out by a huge margin. You missed the party. Its like when in the movies something is revealed to someone and camera zooms in yet the whole background goes further away? It was that look. *Has it really been that long?* look.
Posted on: Tue, 22 Jul 2014 15:02:16 +0000
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