The Day I Had My First Ever Job Interview

I was just purposelessly scrolling down the Facebook page of Güzel, my sister had left open on my laptop, when I saw this job availability status, there. Güzel is a multi designer fashion store, which got open in my city a couple of months back. I didn’t know we had it here in our city, until Roxen happened to perform there. The vainness that was dwelling inside me, made me email them to see if there was any suitable job post available for me. I got a reply to come there, the next day. I had absolutely no intention of applying for a job, but taking a year out from studies, and spending vain hours at home made me thought, maybe I should go for it. So I asked my dad to take me to Güzel for my first ever job interview.

That day, in a nut shell, was a day filled with turmoil for my dad. For me, on the other hand, it was fun. We set off for our destination. My dad also had to drop off my sister for she was running late for work. The direct path to that road was blocked by the agitated public, protesting against load shedding, so my dad had to take the indirect path instead. That cost him a good half of an hour as the indirect road was also thickened with traffic. Nevertheless, we reached there, dropped off sissy and began the search of Güzel. After dragging the car in random neighboring roads to Güzel, we finally found the right road & then discovered what we had been searching for, ultimately. As I entered inside the gate of Güzel, I asked the watchman if that guy, whom I had emailed to, was available there. He nodded and showed me the way inside. I had quite got which way to go to by myself though, but still I think it was nice of him for directing me inside the shop. So I stepped inside with my eyes locating for a guy figure but all I could see was two girls, who were more likely the sales assistants, and some exquisite dresses hanging on the hangers. Normally people going for job interview get a bit nervous, I have no idea why I wasn’t feeling anything at all. I think that was a bit abnormal of me. Anyway, one of them girls asked my name, buzzed on the boss’s intercom, “Somebody named Yusra would like to meet you” and gestured the other girl to take me to the boss’s room. As the other girl was ushering me to his room, my mind was portraying the boss’s face. That was the only instant I felt a bit scared because what my mind had sketched was a man with furious face, creased eyebrows and a round shiny head semi circled by patch of hair from one ear to the other on the back of his head. That was because everyone I know picture their boss in such a scary manner that my mind couldn’t help but portray that face. But to my relief, I saw nothing like that when I opened the door of his room. Pheww! was the very sudden involuntary sound produced by me. After that, some light questions were fired upon me and I returned the answers correspondingly. Although, while I was in the middle of the interview, I got quite convinced that this was not the job for me. Still, the very first experience of me giving a job interview was subtly great. I’m marking this date in my “the-very-first-things-done-by-me” calendar. June 22, 2012 was the day of my very first job interview!!!!! (Please mind my excitement, I do get thrilled about trivial episodes of my life)

NOT regretting my decision of applying in Güzel, I came out of that place and sat in the passenger’s seat of the car. I absolutely knew how my dad was going to respond to the job situation I had put down before him. The response was not in affirmation of course. But that did not upset me. I didn’t quite want to do that job either. But I really liked the shop though. I must plan to go there with my sisters, someday. If you’re reading this and are a girl and are from Peshawar, please go and visit that place once. Ravishing dresses, oh you’re going to love them.

What happened later, made my dad overwrought big time. We drove off from there and on our way back home, the car engine started to heat up so my dad had to pull up the car every now and then to pour the water in that overheated radiator. After a couple of pouring-water-in-the-radiator sessions, it dawned upon my dad that the car radiator was leaking. This great event took place while our car was submerged amid the neighboring cars in the stream of traffic. When the traffic started to rupture gradually and my dad finally got to press the accelerator, another distressing news broke in and that was the news of TIRE FLATTENING! Yeah so my dad managed to steer the car off the road and inside a CNG station and started to change the flat tire. The very next worry was to repair the flat tire before the spare tire or any other of the three remaining tires gets punctured too. With that, the pursuit of ‘the tire repair’ shop commenced. So we found a shop, got the punctured tire inflated and put it back in its original spot while the spare tire went back in the trunk. This event was followed by the CNG refill event, where me and my dad finally found something to drink as that over 40 degrees hot weather had sucked up the water from our bodies. We gluged down the drinks and dad hauled the car to join the traffic once again. After the crawling, dragging and inching the car closer to the one ahead of us, we finally aced through the traffic and arrived our house after the anguishing four hours(for my dad, THAT IS) I enjoyed every occasion that had happened. Yes you’re allowed to call me crazy.

The traffic scenario. I loved the sudden weather change when we got stuck in the traffic.

The new radiator cap, my dad had bought, was absolutely of no use.

Notice the tires in the background? Yeah, that’s me at a tire repair shop, waiting for our car’s tire’s turn to get inflated.

Be My Guest Or Leave Me Alone

I don’t like it when XYZ guests come over to our house. I’m aware that it shouldn’t be my attitude towards any guest coming over, but I can’t really help it. Whenever my mom gets to know that someone’s coming over, the very next thing that comes in her mind is Yusra’ & ‘cleaning up the house’.

My mom wanted me to clean up the house as we were having some guests over. But I told my mum I don’t want to clean the house just because they were coming. I never appreciate them visiting us. I told her I’ll clean it some other time. Not for them but for me (Yeah sounds like a brilliant pretext, No?) But well, she said she didn’t like my attitude (I was damn sure she’d say that in response to my justifiably assertive behavior) Further she went on & told me that if someone comes to our house, we should never make them feel un-invited. We should make them feel special.

Well, that’s the only reason I keep TOLERATING their existence in our house.

JUST because my mom said so.

But it’s frustrating, I tell you. It’s frustrating when your usual routine messes up with the arrival of just a certain someone.

I have to endure the pain… So much pain.

It’s maddening when you can’t watch your favorite show because ‘the guests’ have to watch something else on T.V. Or when you’re listening to you favorite music& they suddenly show up from somewhere & tell you they don’t like that kind of music so they want you to swap it with ‘their’ favorite music. It’s thwarting when you can’t eat your munchies around the house without sharing with them. Like you usually eat, during normal days, when your house is “un-guestified”. Because for some reason it feels awkward when your guests are just sitting there looking at you while you shove the munchies down your pie-hole. So you have to get up and share it with them. Which is one hell of a psychotic sufferance for me as I hate sharing. It’s intensely enraging when you’re watching something on TV & they kick off a discussion over that T.V show with their voices so loud that practically veils the voices coming from the T.V & you can’t help but listen to their irky talk, which actually turns out to be a protest on how kids these days never watch anything useful on T.V. & that discussion goes on for so long that your show ends up & you get up and walk out from that room but their debate never seems to catch the end point so they keep on talking about it. This is kind of obtruding, No? You like your shows, I like mine. What’s the big deal? But then again you can’t tell them to shut up because they are, oh well, the guests.

Ok one thing, for the record, if guests want us to give them their full rights, they should also identify their obligations in return. So they must know that their most important obligation as a guest is to “Live As A Guest” because they don’t own the host’s house.

Do not interfere. Mind your own business. Don’t creep into our lives. If you are a guest, live here as a guest. I’d never go to someone’s house & tell them I don’t like what they are watching on the T.V. Because it’s their house, not mine. They can watch whatever they want.

Don’t be a nuisance. Be a tolerable guest.

Also when you just don’t want to spend time with them, you literally find yourself locking up inside your room. But when you have to face them again at dinner or lunch, the first thing they say is “Ye to nazar he nae ati. Sara din kamre me band rehti hai” That’s the very moment when I literally want to scream,“When I sit with you, you make me feel like running away. You’re always talking sh!t about my likes. Why would I want to spend my time with you? You guys are nothing but repelling personalities!!!

But instead, I take control over myself, conceal my feelings, bury the urge to scream deep down inside and fake a smile so that they don’t think I’m rude…

Why oh why?!? Why do I have to be so nice to people? This very question raises in my head every single day. Never get an answer back though.

..oh & what’s even worse, the guests who come over at your place with no plans of going back to their houses in their mind. Well that just kills me. How can anyone be so thoughtless? It’s strange how they don’t even get the idea that the more they stay at someone’s house, the more uninvited their existence becomes & it makes others’ lives miserable. Well, actually we don’t let them grasp ‘the idea’ because we’re always being super nice to them.

I know I shouldn’t be feeling this way about them. While writing this, I feel like I’m a bad, bad antisocial person which I’m oh so totally NOT. So this kind of proves one thing. You are never born bad. Situations & people around you make you a bad person. Because I know, I’m one hell of a social butterfly. Always chattering with people. Giving them a real good company. But some people, well they just drain my energy, make me feel enervated.

….like the type of guests portrayed above. I hope they don’t read it though.

P.S. Hey, Wanna come over to my place? We’ll party hard!!!