A quarter century ago the people of Pakistan were having a very eventful week; with the celebrations of Pakistan turning 41 just dying down, there was the news of the fateful plane crash of Gen. Zia-ul-Haq…and then there was me. Eventful indeed. Of course the people who handled the tiny she-devil in the form of the innocent baby girl are better witnesses to this simple truth. And so is my older brother who had rather fascinating ideas about how a baby entered the world. Of course he was ecstatic when the baby arrived in the pretty pink basket as he was told it would, but about the events surrounding the arrival, the lesser said the better.
It has been reported from various reliable (and non-reliable) sources that I was a creature of another darker dimension that came to rule over the unsuspecting people of my household…and rule I did. A very primitive description for a hyperactive child with a penchant for climbing every unimaginable thing that happened to be vertical, eating food that tasted otherwise, showing behaviour similar to primates in various respects and screaming at a pitch audible only to dogs to get her demands fulfilled. Well that was me during my early years: I could not have been further from ‘sugar and spice and everything nice’.
Apparently I had a mind of my own from the start, no one could tell me what to do, a far cry from innocent glassy-eyed toddlers. While other kids were babbling, I was articulate enough to form complete sentences. I was irreverent with no respect for authority; imposing my own on others instead. But I was also very cute as little girls go, if I might say so myself, with big brown eyes and curly black hair I was a picture of innocence, ah the perks of being a child, you could get away with any crime whatsoever and that is exactly what I did for years to come till I had to go through the same dilemma my older brother did, it was when I finally came face to face with another creature from my perceived dimension: my younger brother.