That's how we roll!

What do you do when you are a group of ten; there are two hefty treats due in that group; and pizza is no longer financially an option coz according to a friend:

 “yar pizza se to daarh bi geeli nai hoti”

Couldn’t agree more. Well hey, don’t panic. You grab a few kilos of meat, portable oven and all the other BBQ paraphernalia and head for the open air BBQ hotspots in one of Pindi’s best parks. Oh wait; I forgot about the pickup truck aka daala. Well guys that was just what they did, the coolest bunch of brats I know, goods+8 people, all in the back of a pickup truck (thanks to our friend), the cool afternoon wind of Islamabad and here we are, on the banks of Rawal Lake. A perfect outing in perfect conditions. Well picking a spot was not a problem, as most of the people were busy at the Car and Bike show going on nearby. But starting a fire was a bit of challenge, and after playing with coals and matches Mr Weasley style aaaand being warned by the park warden of 500 rupees fine for burning the grass; we ultimately got our hands on a left over fire where a family had just left. Well with the fire up and burning three guys took the job of spearing the pieces of meat. Four others got the fire and the photographer took up his position behind the lens. An hour and a half later and we are still going strong, but the hotpot’s full and no vacancy for more tikkas to store. So out with the plates and cold drinks and raita. That was the first course. With the hotpot again ready to accept more pieces, it just got better. We were now experts in preparing BBQ and while our responsible chef took up the job beside the choolha, we went bonkers dancing around the “bonfire” Red Indian style, singing crazy songs on the top of our voices, the huge Aviary on one side and the Lake on other. It was a crazy evening getting crazier by the minute. And then our two friends who had arrived by bike didn’t feel like bearing the cold night air, and whoa whoa off with the bike on the backside of the daala,  and four crazy souls crammed beside it holding on to it. We were finally ready to depart. But wait what is that crunching sound ….Oh shit! The sound of broken china left no one in doubt that the crockery shopper had been left on the ground. But thanks to Almighty only two were broken. Finally we were off and now the real fun began. With one hand on the bike to keep it from falling due to the sudden and  random crushes of our driver with the other two lanes, and other holding onto dear pickup, we had only two choices. Ride in fear of the bike falling on top of our heads or enjoying the cool night air of Kashmir highway singing at the top of our lungs. Of course we opted for the latter. It was Bollywood pop to Rahet’s Sad; QB’s sentimental to Jawad Ahmed’s vocal. There at that time in the back of the pickup, with the air rushing at our mouths and inducing so much drag force that it was a task to speak audibly; I couldn’t help but wonder how Emma Watson managed to actually stand up with her arms spread to the horizons in the Tunnel song. But well that was movie and this was real time. Then one of our friends decided that any outing without ice-cream is not an outing so. So there is the pickup with us standing in front licking on Magnums. One hell of a time with some of the most imba guys I have ever met, I don’t think I’m a be forgetting this one. This one’s for lifetime.

Enjoying ice-cream at the petrol pump