Pindi Calling
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I have no idea how many cigarettes I had had when she came to my table. She is going to save me, I thought to myself. Get over it, I realized. She is not saving you. She just wants a letter read and doesn’t give a damn about you smoking yourself to death. Th at was probably a lot truer than my wishful thinking. “Hello,” she said taking a seat across me. Actually the only seat across from me. “How are you?” I replied trying not to telegraph what my heart was feeling. Pure joy. Why couldn’t all the people coming to be like her? … Because then I would stop appreciating what I was getting. Yeah, that’s it. “I am okay,” she said putting her beaten-down pocket book on the table and opening it. “I got another letter for you to read, if you don’t mind.” ‘Honey, if I minded I wouldn’t be sitting out here freezing my ass off .’ I just thought that and didn’t really say it, of course. “No, no, not a problem,” I said reaching for the letter. Yes, it was from her husband, a man I had never met, didn’t care to meet, and had started to hate. Yes, I hated the guy. Because of what he had and what he had left behind in search of money. I wasn’t really thinking straight, was I? Because I am sure he wouldn’t be doing what he was doing if he had a choice. He wouldn’t leave his beautiful wife to go in search of money. I actually felt bad for him. So in this small period of time, my mind had pretty much surfed the entire spectrum of human emotion. There was the joy of seeing her. Th e misery of knowing that I didn’t have her. Th e hatred for the one who did have her. Th e compassion to understand why he wasn’t with her. Th e urge to turn that to my favor. Th e self loathing upon realizing what I was thinking. And fi nally, the acceptance of the reality that I wanted to do so. Yes, I was an asshole because I was going to lie.
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About the Book
In Pindi Calling, Irfan, a Pakistani boy, is sent to the United States by his parents to get a good education. He completes high school, but he loses interest in pursuing a college education. So, he goes to work at a convenience store in a small town where he ends up hanging out at a local bar. One night he meets a Pakistani girl, Marya, who has stopped in for a drink with her friend. They are in the U.S. to see the band U2. Irfan, being a big rock music buff, hits it off with Marya and realizes that he is actually falling for this girl. However, the girl goes back to Pakistan and he finds out from one of her friends that she is actually in an arranged marriage. Irfan descends into a sulky state of misery and he decides to go back to Pakistan. He goes to see his favorite uncle, a simple man who lives in Rawalpindi and makes a living reading and writing letters for illiterate people at the Rawalpindi (Pindi) train station. He begins to help the old man with the letter writing but things are not as simple as they seem.
About the Author
Irfan Haq was born in 1978 in Rawalpindi, Pakistan. His family lived in Islamabad and he attended the Islamabad Model College for Boys until they moved to the United States in 1991. He excelled in high school and took an Honors English Curriculum. He lives in Kenilworth, New Jersey.