I don’t have a laptop anymore and I have been craving to write from the last few days. Craving won’t be the right word. I have been actually dying to write. There are two main ingredients to do writing: imagination and discipline. I know I have a strong imagination. I also know I am highly indisciplined.
I can write every night but I don’t. I want to live the moments as well. If I go on writing every night, i would stop going out and the flow of imaginative ideas will stop too that I get when I see and observe the world around me. There are so many people around me all the time, doing so many different things.
I drive approximately five hundred kilometres every day. The maximum driving speed on most of the interstate highways in UAE is 120 kmph. Once in a while, a spoilt arab comes after me blaring all horns and flashing headlights, signalling me to get out of his way so he can go on being fast and furious on the road. A strander shys his hand at every vehicle in hopes of getting a hike to the next town. I stop most of the times until and unless my intuition tells me to do otherwise. Last Thursday I picked up an Afghan and a Pakistani from Oman and drove them to UAE. The Afghan sat in the front passenger seat whereas the Pakistani sat at the back. I can say from my personal experience of the last Thursday that I trust an Afghan more than a Pakistani. May be it was because the Afghan was highly talkative and shared his story with me before I even asked for it and the Pakistani didn’t talk much and kept looking at me from the rearview mirror. I realized that my bag was lying at the back seat, next to the Pakistani. The bag contained about eighteen thousand US Dollars cash. But they didn’t know it, so there was no risk of losing it unless I informed them about the cash. The Pakistani left the car before the Afghan and the Afghan treated me with a coke and a couple of shawarmas upon entering the UAE territory. I told the Afghan later that my bag contains cash. He was thrilled to know that I stopped to pick up two random strangers in a remote place while having a good amount of cash with me. He advised me not to take unnecessary risks like this in future.
After he left, I wondered whether I would be able to follow his advice ever. A big part of me knows I won’t. It comes naturally to me, helping people, helping strangers. We are all wanderers in the journey of life. We all know where we have been but none of us know where we will be tomorrow.
If I stop going out, I will stop experiencing situations like these and if I stop experiencing situations like these, what would I write about? Anybody can write a love story, I have too, I want to write lives and I know very well that I have just one life to do so.
That Afghan will be meeting me this Thursday in Oman.
I hope that Pakistani gets to know that somebody trusted him enough to keep his bag full of cash lying beside him and not feel afraid of losing it.
In the world of wanderers, a generous smile is more valuable than any amount of money.