Well, well, well. Karachi is practically an oven these days. It is so not advisable not to take a water bottle along when one goes out, for studies, for work or for anything else. Though I always forget to do so and by the time I am home, having traveled in four different buses since right in the morning, I end up feeling considerably shrunk, thirsty and low on sugar no matter how much liquid intake I do while sprinting through the metropolis. That reminds me of the degree of discomfort and irritation heat caused Camus â€™ Meursault . In fact, it actually costs him his life in the end, as it makes him apathetic to things, which would be important to any normal individual, at some of the most decisive and defining moments of his life. Despite Meursaultâ€™s irregularity and idiosyncrasy he is so very believable and relatable; especially the gospel of â€˜after a while you could get used to anythingâ€™ through which he tries to achieve an understanding- however partial- of life.
Oh, and yes, before I forget, though this is a bit off-topic here, be on your guard against this force, this whole force of people who stand on bus-stops and do not mind spitting the residue from their â€˜paan chewingâ€™ episodes right where you are. Your apparel can also get quite messed up in the process. This, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I am speaking from firsthand experience. Too bad I could not see who the awful mortal was or I would have raised some serious hue and cry there and satisfy the urge that developed right then to cuss at someone. Anyway I came home, cussed in front of my dad when describing what happened at the bus-stop and yet escaped being grounded; though Iâ€™m way beyond the age of getting grounded but one never really knows with parents.