Journey to Pakistan - The Precursor

1 Dec, 2012

I’ve finally got it – approval from Pakistan, from the airlines, and my parents. As in, I’ve got my visa, ticket, and the green signal. At the moment, there are so many emotions running through me, that I can only give a passing glimpse of each:

·         Exhilarated: You know how people have a bucket list – a list of things they want to before they die? Well, I’ve never formally written one, but I’m sure visiting Pakistan would have been near the top of mine. And it’s finally happening!!!!

·         Grateful: For my parents, who absolutely hate the idea of me going to Pakistan, yet went out of their way to ensure that I got my visa. It’s not easy to do something for others when your mind is telling you to do the opposite.

·         Awed: Guess who put the stamp authorizing my visit to Pakistan? The Ambassador of Pakistan to Kuwait himself! I got to meet him personally, and was quite blown away by his friendliness, cordiality and professionalism. On a side note, he also gave me a new quote to ponder over: “The creation of Pakistan was based more on pro-Islam sentiments than anti-India sentiments. Unfortunately, that was not the legacy that was passed down.”

·         Nervous: Of that immigration line. Call it paranoia, but I’m actually afraid of going through the immigration: what if they pull me aside? What if they decide to grill me because I’m Indian? What if they decide to lock me up simply because they feel like it? Guess the India-Pakistan rivalry didn’t manage to escape me entirely.

·         Frustrated: I was asked not to tell anyone that I am going to Pakistan, until after I return. That’s like me deciding to get married to the man of my dreams and then being told to keep hush about it until after the wedding is over. Actually, it’s much worse than that. Going to Pakistan has been the one thing that has been at the top of mind and tongue all year, and being restricted from sharing this excitement with others is frustrating.

·         Guilty: Okay, so I didn’t declare my travel plans on Facebook, but I couldn’t help myself from telling my close friends about the trip. And now I feel guilty for doing that.

Anxious: I’ve been building up this trip in my head for so long, that part of me is worried it won’t live up to my expectations.

·         Excited: I’ll finally get to meet my best friend and her mom, in their own house, in a city that I have heard so much about!

·         Curious: Do I have to be covered from head to toe out there? Do I carry sleeveless kurtas? Will they put me behind bars for wearing a t-shirt and jeans?

·         Hopeful: That this trip will help me understand myself a lot better, as clichéd as that sounds.

*****

14 December, 2012

I received a call from the PIA office regarding my ticket. There was a bit of a mix-up, but after a little clarification, I was given the green signal to go ahead and print my ticket. It was finally official. I entered my classroom, and the first thing my friend asked me was: what’s with the big smile? And being the mature 23 year-old that I am, I started jumping up and down, ignoring their amused glances as I squealed loudly that I got my ticket.

*****

15 December, 2012

After a night of drinking and dining with one of my close friends, we found ourselves sitting at a familiar location, gazing out into the sea. Having the sudden urge to talk to our friend in Pakistan, I made the call. In response to her “hello,” I screamed loudly into the phone: “I’m coming to Pakistan!” even as my friend gave me an “are you mad” look, before shaking his head and grinning away.

The excitement was contagious, I suppose.

*****

26 December, 2012

It’s the eve of my trip. I want to blog. But I can stop feeling ultra jittery and hyper.

*****

27 December, 2012

If I were the kind of person who believed in destiny, I would say that someone up there is trying really hard to piss me off. My flight has been delayed. Again. And it’s starting to annoy me.

But I have no plans of giving that guy up there the satisfaction of getting to me. I’ll take whatever he plans on throwing at me, and I’m going to make sure this trip happens. (Unless of course the flight gets cancelled, in which case there’s not a whole lot I can do.)

In any case, the silver lining to this whole mess is that I’m no longer jittery. Trust me, a few hours ago, I couldn’t sit still. I was literally shaking in anticipation, nervousness and excitement. I sat down to write, but couldn’t sit still long enough to get any words down that didn’t sound like “wheeeeee!!!”

But rest assured, I can do more than that now.

After 23 years of wondering, 5 years of pestering, 3 years of dreaming, 1 year of planning, 1 month of freaking out, 3 days of overwhelming excitement, and two flight delays, the day has finally arrived: I’m going to Pakistan today. Assuming Pakistan International Airlines doesn’t have some ties up there.

For anyone who knows me really well, they’d know that I’m not a very hopeful person. Sure, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, I’m the most optimistic and positive person you’d find. But when it comes to my life – I’m really scared to get my hopes up. I’m the kind of person who’d rather keep a check on my hopes and be pleasantly surprised, than allow my hopes to soar free only to be crushed by disappointment.

So in a typical ruchi-world, I’d be sitting here contemplating every possible thing that could go wrong from this point forth (because let’s face it – there’s a lot that can). But this time, instead of dwelling on all that, I’m going to try and be something I never am – I’m going to be hopeful. I’m hopeful that this trip actually happens; I’m hopeful that I don’t give my parents reason to worry more than they already are; I’m hopeful that I get to reconnect with some old friends; I’m hopeful that I finally get to see the country I’ve always wanted to visit.

Because at the end of the day, there’s not much else I can do. 

[Like I said, someone up there is trying to piss me off big time. My word doc closed without saving. So I just had to re-type my blog. ]