My+First+Robbery


 * I had to get bread from the bakery. My youngest, who was one then, was crying. So I took her and my maid (a 15 year old girl, yes child labor) along with me in my car…. to hold the baby. We don’t wear seat-belts in Pakistan. My normal routine when I reach home is, to come to my drive way and honk my car. Someone from inside comes and opens the gate. I then park my car in the garage. **


 * On the way back home, my daughter was crying. I was driving slowly, talking back, looking back, trying to resolve the issues behind. I reached my driveway and honked my car. All of a sudden out of nowhere, sprung a big dark man, with dark black hair, black mustache and white shalwar kamez waving his gun at me. He was kicking my door, banging my car and with his hands he was pointing to my gold bangles. I was just screaming and screaming, honking and honking like mad. Luckily the doors of my car were locked and all the windows were rolled up. I yelled to the maid, **


 * “Don’t open the door!” **


 * Surprisingly enough, she listened to me. I took my bangles off and threw them under my car seat. Don’t ask me why I did that? Because even I don’t know why I did it. **


 * Anyway, I was honking and honking. And then……my other daughter, who was six then, opened the main gate wide. Instantaneously, the men put his gun down...just for a second, it was his reaction to the gate opening. For an instant, I felt that maybe he was sacred too. My daughter was standing right next to the man with a gun looking lost and confused! **


 * By this time, I had regained some of my senses. I realized that there were two men. The other man had parked his motorbike behind my car, blocking my car. I don’t know if the other man had a gun or not. The man in front of me was the focus of all my attention. **


 * Just then a car honked behind me. My car and the motorbike behind it had blocked a large section of the street. The car couldn’t pass. So the second man moved his motorbike slightly to make way for the car. Again, don’t ask me why? **


 * My car’s engine was still on, I reversed my car, hit the motorbike behind and drove off. I will always remember the expression on the man’s face, when I put my hand on the “R” of the gear…both his hands tightly clutching the gun, fingers on the trigger, he was on my windscreen ready to fire. **


 * I was screaming. I don’t know if the men chased me on their motorbike. I was too sacred to look in the rear glass. By now my screams were making sense, I was saying, **


 * “ MALAIKA! MALAIKA!” **


 * My daughter was standing in the drive way with men who had guns. I called my husband on my mobile. He understood, what I was blabbering. I remember him telling me, **


 * “Don’t worry, it's going to be very difficult for them to take Malaika with them on their motorbike.” **


 * Did this comfort me…. I was gasping for air. **


 * I had seen a sign of Police Station on a street close by. I navigated myself to the police station, told them something, not sure what. A Police jeep accompanied me and a police man sat in my car and we all came home. When I returned home, the whole neighborhood was in my garage. My mother-in-law was howling. My children were standing next to her silently. They knew something awful had happened and it had happened to their mother. **


 * The rest of the story is… my mother- in- law was watching T.V in the living room. When my daughter opened the gate, she saw the man with the gun. She locked the living room door and ran upstairs to cry for help on the terrace. My daughter saw the gun in the man’s hand. She tried to come in but the living room door was locked. She kept banging on the door until my son came down to open it for her. He saw the men too. My mother- in- law thought that the men wanted my car, and had made off with me and the car. **


 * My husband on the other hand was very furious with me for my unexplainable actions. He was yelling at me over the phone, **


 * “What the hell is wrong with you! You went to the police station, whatever for. You allowed a cop to sit in the car with you. Don’t you know they have a share in all the robberies? They protect the criminals and you brought them home. What the robbers left, they will take. Don’t sign any papers. They will constantly harass you to come and identify the robbers!” **


 * And I said, “Oh! but I can identify them!” **


 * And he said, “They had guns. If you identify anyone, they will come and shoot us all. What is wrong with you? Make the police go! I am coming! Just get the police to go away!” **


 * So I made the police go and I didn’t sign any papers. What was really wrong with me that day!!! **
 * By the way we had a sophisticated security system installed in our house. We had it disconnected. It was such a waste of good money! **


 * As, I was honking so much, my next door neighbor had come to her window and had witnessed the whole scene. Do I blame her for not coming to my rescue? Of course not! I understand. What can you do if men have guns and you know that the police will never help. Anyway, I was informed by my husband that they were not professional robbers, otherwise they would have shot me instantly. They appeared to be new in their profession....so quiet unskilled. Thank God, they had steady hands! **

__** Morals of the story **__
 * Never run when a man holds a gun at you, he might shoot you between the eyes. **
 * Never ask the Pakistani Police for help, this is not their job. **
 * Always do what your Pakistani husband says, he is always right and he knows it. **
 * And honking is good for you, it relieves stress! **


 * I am going back home to... **
 * ** drive my car with windows rolled up **
 * ** keep my car doors firmly locked **
 * ** never ever wear any jewellery, even artificial one **
 * ** carry minimum cash with me **
 * ** use the cheapest mobile **
 * **always drive the oldest car in the house**


 * If I stick to these golden rules, I am going to be fine. What do you think? **