The delayed cheque

Part 2

After 14 days (2 weeks)

After travelling 35 km, I have reached university. The officer is sitting in the chair leisurely.

“G, you,” inquires the officer again in an indifferent tone.

“I am Ayaz Khan, sir,” again I try to bring his lost memory!

“Acha, Acha, yar meet me after 12 p.m... Give me some time to search your documents,” he tells me.

12 p.m.

“Han Ayaz, yar, I am sorry I have misplaced your documents. Kindly make another photocopied set of documents and submit it immediately,” he tells me with hat off regret.

Awestruck, I try to evaluate the matter. “How precious time is for them,” I curse myself and leave.

"Documents, sir," I hand over photocopies to him.

Once again, he requests me to give him one week to process the documents.

After 3 weeks (21 days)

Following the long-irritating drive, I reach university. Thanks to China bikes for making journey ‘comfortable’ and feasible too!

“You are Ayaz, right,” the officer asks.

“Yes sir, I am,” I reply humbly.

“Yar, your documents have not come yet. I have forwarded them to the concerned department. Please visit me next week,” he guides me.

“Sir, I have to travel from Hub. Can you give me your contact so that I can remain in contact with you instead of wasting time and money both?” I request him.

“Why, why should I give you my contact,” he replies suspiciously.

“Wait, take Mr Arshad’s number. Arshad! Please give him your contact,” he calls Arshad. Mr Arshad sits in the office next to the officer's and he is close aid to the officer too.

I take the contact and leave without uttering a single word asking nothing about delaying my work.

After 4 weeks (28 days)  

I call Arshad to inquire about the matter. Neither he attends the call nor does he responding messages. Finally, I receive a text message from Arshad that he is busy in a meeting. The week passes in playing cat and mouse!

After 5 weeks (35 days)

One month has passed. I am frustrated visiting university every week. Apart from being a tiresome journey, it also costs me 500 rupees on each visit. I am committed to getting my work done at any cost today.

The officer is on a call and has made me wait until he finishes conversation. The officer receives calls usually in the presence of students and his tone and attitude are as robust and rude as it is normally. But, this call is not an ordinary call.

“See yar, I have forgotten to do work of this person (unknown). How can I make such a mistake,” he discloses it to me with an angry tone while alluding to the cell phone.

The pop-up bubble above my mind has a clear message. “Either I am annoying them a lot as he had to allude to some ‘supernatural’ power or he wants me to come with a strong recommendation like a call from some (unknown), if I have to get my work done,” I ask myself!

“Yar, check this guy’s name in the register,” he calls one of the persons. The person takes me to his room; opens a ‘haunted’ register and starts looking for my name.

“Sorry, we don’t have your name,” he says, “please visit the officer.”

The officer guides me to another room and instructs me to get information about the work while showing the ID, which the person, who had given me the bad news, provided me.

“Sir, these are the details of my cheque,” I give the person a small piece of the page on which details are written.

“Ok,” the person, who has to manage the register, responds.

After a while, the person calls a worker and hands over the register to him and tells him to take the register to account section.

Account Section

The officer, who much more looks like an old-film character, registers the details of the cheque in another ‘old-age’ register.

“Sir, how many days will this process take?” I ask the officer who has registered the given information about my cheque. “I need it early because BURSAR office has already wasted one month in this,” I request him.

“It will take more than 10 days. I cannot do anything,” he shouts.

“But, sir, I have to travel 70 km for this work every week,” I answer.

“You are a fool,” he replies. “People have to wait for their cheques for two years here and they travel from as far as KPK. Who are you to say this,” shouts the person ranged and his face is as red as a chilly!

“I wish I could take you on the bike to my city during summer and your bums would get red while travelling 70 km to, at least, have a sense how do our bums respond to the temperature!” I utter these sentences and leave.