On my way home, turning the wheel this way, I suddenly spied Aamil Dehli. I could see him grinning in my rear view mirror, sitting behind in my old beat up 8503.
I shook my head and wondered why he was sitting in my car. So we talked a bit. I asked him about his life and he asked me about mine.
When I heard his story, I yawned. There was nothing much in it.
But when he heard mine, he roared with laughter, shaking like a needled balloon, this way and that. And when he was over the fit, wiping the tears from his eyes, he bent forward and said,
Maar diya papar waley ney! hain?
Muft huey badnaam...Maya mili na Ram!
And I joined him in his laughter.
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