I know I talk in hyperbole all the time but this has just got to be the best thing ever. It’s literally every single inside-joke I have with person and it’s brilliant and heart-warming and so well put, I can’t tell if I’m more flattered or envious. Regardless. This is it.
Usama ran his fingers through his dark curls, adjusting his ray-bans. They were originals, as the pathan cart-owner from commerical market had claimed, but Usama knew better. He had donned on a baggy Levi’s top he had purchased earlier that week along with a pair of skinny jeans that accentuated his anime-legs.
Walking briskly, he approached the Comsats Canteen counter. The shop keeper regarded him silently.
“The usual?” He asked, sounding rather bored.
Usama only gave a slight nod, inconspiciously inspecting his surroundings with his peripheral vision. There was no sign of any unwelcome intruders, nor did he notice any strangers looking at him with unforeseen curiosity. Good. But he could not let his guard down for one second. It was too dangerous.
The shop-keeper slapped a mushed up substance onto the counter top. It resembled a sub and was wrapped in a flimsy newspaper sheet, but to Usama, it was more than just that. It was his escape. His life.
Flinging a few 10 rupee notes onto the counter-top, Usama grabbed his anday wala burger and headed towards the food court. From a distance he spotted Zubda waving at him, beckoning him to join her. When he reached the table, she immediately removed a silver laptop from it’s case and began typing furiously at the keyboard.
“Any progress?” Usama asked noncomittally, taking a bite out of his delicious delicacy.
“We found the safe, but we can’t crack the password. Not completely.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve only been able to uncover a few characters. It could be anything.” She sounded exasperated. Being the tech expert had it’s perks, but it also had it’s burdens.
“What are the characters?” Usama asked, his full attention now towards the situation at hand.
“It doesn’t matter- It could be anythi-”
“What are the characters?” Usama pressed.
“We have an ‘M’, then five blanks, followed by three numbers.”
Usama let that sink in for a second. She was right. It could be anything, but everything has it’s limitations. Limitations that depend directly on the source.
“What do we know about the safe-holder, Zubda?”
She looked at him with a perplexed expression. “Just the fact that he has a well established position in the Pindi Mafia and all it’s leading agencies. You know that.”
Usama took a deep breath. There it was. A limitation.
“Hand me the laptop.”
She pushed the device towards him on the table. Usama studied the screen for a second, before quickly typing in a few letters in the space provided. A affirmative beep sounded. Usama smiled. Zubda raised her eyebrows in shock.
“I don’t believe it. How?”
“Everything has it’s limitations. The safe-holder is a high ranking Pindi Boy. It would be foolish not to think he’d choose a password dear to his heart.”
“What was it?” Zubda asked, furiously jabbing at her keyboard again.
“Masair123.”
___
Usama dangled from the ceiling by a safety rope tied around his waist. He propelled himself downwards until he reached the floor. He studied the massive safe in front of him with awe. There it was. In all it’s glory, resting deep withing the heart of Centaurus.
It was open, and it’s contents now belonged to him. He wouldn’t keep them though. No, his job was just to ensure they weren’t in danger of being in the wrong hands anymore. He approached it cautiously, avoiding any traps that may have been set up.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
Usama gasped at the familiar voice. “Saad? What are you doing here?”
“You’re not the only one after the contents of the safe, Usama.”
“What do you mean?”
Saad emerged from behind the safe, in all his villian-y glory. His green eyes shone with ill-intention and bitterness. Usama knew right there and then, Saad was not his ally anymore. But could he fight him?
“Saad,” Usama spoke, almost pleading, “Don’t do this.”
But it was too late.
Saad lurched forward, pulling out a few disk shaped weapons and flinging them at Usama. One hit him square in the face and stung him thoroughly before falling lifeless to the gorund. Usama barely glanced at the object on the floor and understood. It was an image of Pepe. Saad was shitposting.
“No!” Usama clutched his head. “The memes! They’re too dank for me!”
But then there was a pause.
Usama glanced at Saad, but his eyes immediately fell onto something else. There was a hologram in front of him. No, no, no. The figure was that of a woman. A woman he knew far too well. She gracefully treaded forward, a box of Slice Mango in one hand and a box of Veet hair removal cream in the other. But she couldn’t be here. She had left him. it was an illlusion. Get it together Usama. “Katrina Kaif…” Usama murmured, but he would not let this illusion destroy him. He lunged forward, dissipating the hologram and twisting his adidas watch. A stream of iridiscent light fell onto Saad.
“NO!” Saad screamed. “Not the tumblr posts. NO! They’re too aesthically pleasing for me to handle!”
But Saad was gone as if he had disappeared into thin air. But Usama knew all he had done is teleport him to Tumblr. And that was a hell of it’s own.
Usama grabbed a silk hankercheif from the safe, tying it up to secure the contents inside. He walked out of the building and lit a cigarette in Centaurus parking lot. Sure enough, two mintutes later, a silhouette of Shahbakht on a motorcycle shone in the distance. “Bao rami ho tussi, Raja jee.” Shahbakht exclaimed upon reaching the lot. “Agli baar mainu bhi mission naal yes krao ok na.” Usama only smiled and planted himself in the back seat. The motorcycle engine started with a roar and the vehicle rushed forth.
Usama untied the knot on the hankercheif, smiling at the rare car sticker inside. It was one of the first car stickers to ever have been produced in Pindi and held great importance in the Pindi boi heritage. It was too priceless to ever go in the wrong hands.
Usama closed his eyes, imagining Katrina. She knew what she would be saying right now. It was the only thing he ever heard her say.
“Veet. Khoobsurti ka ehsaas.”He opened his eyes then, feeling the strong wind against his skin, pushing his hair back from his face.
“Raja jee?” Shahbakht turned to look at him questioningly. “Dua wheel vi chukso.”
And he did.
a head vs heart affair 