Picnics – a Bane or Boon? --- II

The gang was least aware of what was about to happen on the next trip to the farm house, The Black Door farm house. As the picnic season drew closer the discussions increased deciding where to go. One day The Bird came up with a suggestion for a farm house, some relative of his had visited a few days back. Since, all the others had no better ideas or resources to arrange for a farm house, the suggestion was accepted without any investigation. The day drew closer and the preparations were completed. This time the mode of transportation was a Pakistan Navy truck (courtesy of Mr. Lt. Ghazi F/O The Gay). All set the gang left for the place from Jauhar, the 9-0 of the gang. Half-way through someone asked the bird now where to go and he came up with a rather amusing reply “Yaar black gate hai us ka!”. Voila!!! The mystery was part-solved, the farm house had a black gate. Now it was so easy to find a farm house with a black gate. Lost in the area of Malir (I remember the Bhains Para there :P) we roamed here and there and again there and here, until someone came up with a silly idea of calling that person at the farm house. After hours of wandering in the wild the gang was escorted safely to the farm house, greeted with surprises apart from the frogs. The place barely had a room, the pool was smaller than the water tank at my place, no place to play, and lots of vegetation here and there. The party started with the placement of the organizer “The Bird” in the pool along with his valuables, followed closely by a few others. Soon all were inside the pool enjoying however they could. Haseeb, the true successor of “Slash” played us sweet erotic music all night long on the guitar Jaws had brought with him. Dinner was served, dinner was consumed. Swim, swim, swim, until the dawn arrived. As the sunlight shone on the natural habitat surrounding the gang, the fruits on the trees glowed magnificently, in such a manner that it brought out the Charles Darwin’s monkeys in some of the fellows. Mangoes were the primary target, absconded in their early ages the little-not-yet-sweet mangoes dropped from the tress like rain after a flurry of things ranging from stones to “The Bird” were thrown over it to get more and more of the sweet delicacy which was not sweet yet. Before the gardener was awake his Mango tree was raped of its beauty by the brutes. The major share went to Ghazi brothers, who promised a mango party at their place which is yet to arrive. The pool had no top over it, but still the helpless youths of BU had to swim. They waddled in the pool aimlessly all day long, until it was time to leave for home. For me at least it was not what we call a successful picnic. From getting lost to swimming under a bright hot sun all are factors that make a picnic unsuccessful but not a disaster, as the presence of friends is the real spirit of the picnic and not the place.

The almost-disastrous picnic left a bad taste in the mouth and it was almost a nightmare to think of another picnic. Time flew by until “The Restless” could stand no more. “Abay Haan! Aik buri picnic hogayee tou ab kabhi nahi hogi kya?” The restlessness made it impossible for the entire university to stay in the premises of the campus and soon somebody handed the contact details of a leisure resort to the lot. Services of the Panchayat were launched and soon the picnic got planned without any hassles. The restlessness was in fact present in all the members, only that they knew how to keep it concealed. Royal Paradise was a farm house owned by some distant relative of His Majesty Ahsan Akber, after a little alligator tears shed by some of the gang members, the farm house was booked. Departure took place from the same spot in the same mode of transportation. The picnic started off on a bad note, when the beloved sheer-maals got dropped somewhere in the commute. But soon all the gloom was washed away when the sight of the farm house greeted the gang. Awed by its grandness the gang spent the first many minutes exploring the place like a group of excited nursery kids placed inside a play area. This was a dream come true, a big ground *as big as a rugby field*, swings, a well lit large pool, paittee *tabletop football*, spacious rooms, neat kitchen, clean bathrooms *until…HAHAHAH*, security, what else does a soul need for picnic? Since once again the troop got lost in its way to the farm house the whole lot was a pack of hungry wolves. Dinner was served first and then no one could be stopped, in the pool, on the paittee, on the swings, out in the ground, all spread like it was the first time they were left out in their entire lives. After a heartful dip in the pool, the group started a new game they started handing each other the most violent punishment known to the human kind, the “Saza-e-****”. The homo*exuality-triggered activity was started by the two most known people of the kind. The “Russian heart throb” and the infamous “Boss”, both after grabbing each others’ limitless times were bent upon feeling others’ unmentionable parts *:P*. Almost everyone had to go through this at least once, with the exception of the “Russian” who went through the process many times, enjoying each one of them to its max. After the pool football, wrestling, hockey, cricket etc. ended, the guys decide to hit the big field with lush green grass. Football was chosen as the sport, even though none of them knows how to play it. Customized rules, varying length goals, fouls, breaking fingers (especially foot), nothing with that match was correct, but yet it was played. With a few accidents the game came to an end. It was followed closely by a small-scale cricket tournament *which I don’t remember exactly who won.*. All moved on to less tiring activities Paittee and cards till the dawn, and then again in the water. Tired to the limits, some of the guys again tried to play cricket but it was as clumsy as anything wayward shots, wayward deliveries, dropped catches, made it more of a comic movie rather than a proper game of cricket. As the day proceeded the fellows fell one by one, here and there, sleeping the tiredness off. Then a mystery happened, one of the bathrooms suddenly got choked. All were suspects in the initial phase but then it came down to a few, namely the Pathaan, The Restless and the Germ Don Dirtoo. Who polluted the clean bathroom? This mystery can not be solved to date. The pathaan was infuriated after being accused for the wrongful act which he pleaded he was not guilty of (the catch here was the way of DOING THE ACT). He even got physical with the bird that had to fly to get support. But here ended a successful picnic on a beautiful location. Literally if there is some farm house I will like to visit again it would be this one.

To be Continued...*last part*