Goodwill from Pakistan

As I was about to go for my lunch, my mandaub, an Arab clerk who helps with visa and civil identification card formalities, came in and informed me that I had my medical test at 1 p.m. and it was about time. So I left immediately in his car with 5 more persons along with me in another car. We went to a place that looked like a hospital, but was quite noisy with hundreds of people roaming around here and there with papers and passports in their hands. Our mandaub gave us our passports and visas and some more papers which I don't know what they said as they were in Arabic. After some one and a half hours, when our turn seemed elusive, I began to look into the Egyptian passports and other documents that my friends were carrying. I noticed one document with a seal in red with everyone apart from me. I asked them. And they all gave different answers. But it was made known to the mandaub that I didn't have that kind of paper. He ran back to our office and after half an hour came back with nothing but the original copy of my visa. I didn't know how to react but just prayed to God for things to happen well. He listened and the people at the counters who inspected the documents didn't raise any alarm. I was to get my medical test done then.

My mandaub pushed me into a room where 5 to 6 people were sitting with some papers and some medical equipment on the desks. My papers were examined again. I was instructed to go to a lady sitting in a corner. She looked at me with something just a little less than disgust. She put a strap around my arm and got a set of needle and syringe ready. Then the hell broke loose. She pierced the needle some where inside my flesh and started her search for my veins. It pained but she didn't care a bit. After an ordeal that lasted an era, she got the syringe full of my blood, took the needle out and put a cotton stub on the spot where blood was oozing still. I got up to leave.

Before I could know my mandaub, in a hurry to finish off the things sooner, pushed me to another table. I couldn't even realize when this fellow at the desk pricked my finger tip and got my blood on a slide of glass. I saw blood again but this time it wasn't paining.

I was dragged out and before I could reach anywhere I felt dizzy. I told the mandaub to take care of others till the time I took rest. He left me there and ran to others to help them out. Meanwhile, the whole of my view was darkening, with my mind spiraling and feet in no control. I looked around and there was one guy who could sense that I was in trouble. He quickly got into action and got one bench vacated for me. He spoke in Hindi, the way one of my friends from engineering who hailed from Himachal spoke. I lied on the bench with darkness looming large all over. I was panting and perspiring heavily. That man ran and got me a can of Mirinda, the only fluid similar to fruit juice he could get. I poured it into my drying mouth and closed my eyes.

Gradually, the earth seemed to slow down and the sun seemed to rise again in its full fury. I was gaining back my senses. I opened my eyes to a small group of onlookers, with my man-friday elated to see me back into his world. He instructed me not to rise. I obeyed.

Sometime later, I felt the strength inside and got up. I was anxious to know who this man was. I sat close to him and looked at his green colored passport. He was a Pakistani. I broke into a conversation. He was a carpenter working in Sialkot, a place close to Jammu on the other side of the fence. He had come to Kuwait for livelihood. I was delighted. He was the second Pakistani I knew and wasn't any different from the one whom I had know through Yahoo Chat. He was a God-fearing, simple and compassionate man, with value much similar to any Indian would have. I chatted for about half an hour and gave him my address. When I wanted to pay him back the price of juice, he simply wouldn’t let me. I told him that I was not paying back, but was giving him his money that he could spend on someone else in need. He didn't buzz from his stand and didn't take the money saying that Allah would give him more if He wanted him to help others. I was flabbergasted.

I have 5 parts per million of my blood Pakistani now.