A Midsummer Weekend (The Extended Version)

11. The River

Ahad

"Eventually everything will be taken over by computers...", I told Farah, and then just to light even more fire under her added, "Even a physician's job"

She is so funny when she is angry, I couldn't help stifling a laugh as she shot me an irritated look.

"I highly doubt that", she argued back, "And even if that was true, governments would need to introduce some form of universal income"

Aah...my favorite topic of discussion

"Universal income? You mean everyone regardless of their contribution to society gets a set amount of money per month? That's such a dumb idea"

In reality, I didn't think it was a dumb idea. In fact, I and some of my faculty friends from the UK and US were just about to submit a grant proposal to the World Bank to fund a multinational study looking at the impact of widespread computerization of many industries on the socioeconomic status of working class. Universal income was a solution that we had proposed and requested pilot funding for as part of the bigger grant.

I wasn't just a PhD in Computer Engineering. I had also obtained an an MBA during that time, with the aim of investing in a tech startup. But along the way I had realized that my profession was also responsible for taking away the livelihood of many people. So, along with a few like-minded friends from college who had now spread across the world, we had decided to do something about it.

But Farah wouldn't have known any of that. And I wanted to keep it that way.

At least while I decided whether or not my mother was right about her.

***Flashback***

"Assalam Alaikum"

"Chalo shukr hai tum aagaye ho. Ab tum uss bachi ke saath Swat ke trip pe jaa sako ge", my mother said as soon as I stepped into the house, after flying in from the UK just an hour ago (Thank God you're here. Now you can go with that girl on the trip to Swat)

"Ami pehlay salaam ka jawab tou de dein", I told her, hugging her and laughing. (Mom at least reply to my salaam first)

"Fine. Walaikum Asalaam", she replied to me, pulling my cheek, "But I am telling you that you will not find another girl like Farah. She is pretty, smart, comes from a highly educated family, is so polite and respectful. And she is becoming a doctor like you"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at my mother as she rattled off the virtues of a faceless girl she had picked for me.

"Ami, I am a PhD doctor, she is the medical kind. Big difference. Also...", I sighed, "When I said that you could look for a girl for me, I didn't mean someone 8 years younger than me. I meant someone closer to my age. Someone I can have a mature conversation with"

"She is mature, Ahad. You should have heard the conversations she was having with Kamran and Komal"

"But she lives in Karachi", I tried to argue my way out of whatever Ami was planning.

"So? She can fly back to her parents whenever she wants"

"She's only in her third year of college"

"Komal thinks she would be ready for Nikah at least by next year. That gives you enough time to settle down, before we send a rishta"

How did Komal know that, I wondered.

Running out of excuses, I tried to appeal to her maternal love for me, "Ami, I just got home. I am tired and so jet lagged"

But she was having none of it, "Go to sleep then. The trip to Swat is in three weeks. You have enough time to get over the jet lag"