میں اچار میں ہوں

Bit of a pickle. Massive pickle. Monster pickle.

The kind of pickle that would make an excellent antagonist in a trashy 1950’s sci-fi B movie. A pickle of gigantic proportions.

Dunno how I got myself into this epic pickle, but we are where we are, as a great man once said.

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Thing is, I really don’t like people. Actually, that’s not fair – it’s not that I dislike anyone per se, I just prefer when I keep all social interactions to an absolute minimum. Ordinarily, this preference isn’t a problem; I keep to myself, others keep to themselves, everybody’s happy. As long as we all, as much as is humanly possible, refrain from communication, things go pretty smoothly.

Only now I’m completely and utterly lost, in the middle of a foreign country. So, on top of my fervent disdain for engaging strangers in conversation, I now have the language barrier to contend with. Bollocks.

Alright. How do you say, “I am in a pickle” in Urdu?

Solidarity, brothers & sisters…

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About Seba Roux

Gooner, Socialist, Historian, Slacker. That's pretty much all you need to know.
This entry was posted in Short Stories and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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