Yesterday, I found out I had a fever, and reeling from bouts of nausea and headache, I found myself desperate for my comfortable bed a cup of hot tea. Trying to manage my ill-health, along with research work that had to be completed within the hour, you can imagine how annoyed I was when I got a call from an unknown number and a Pindi-boy accent said “Hey-low!”. Granted, it is not ‘nice’ or ‘politically correct’ for me to mind/make-fun-of/point out someone’s accent, but I was annoyed, and this man seemed to be a cause for further irritation. He was calling me on behalf of the Leopard Courier Service, which, according to their website (click here), is “geared towards getting you the most timely and efficient deliveries” and said to me: “Your address does not exist.” Confounded by this statement, I insisted that indeed it did. I lived there and could most definitely confirm the existence of walls and a roof and a gate and everything else that comprises a typical Islamabad residence.
Further inquiry revealed that he had my address written down incorrectly and after repeating five-thirty-two (532)* three times, I had to finally say (loudly) paanch-so battees (translation of 532) before he understood me. This obstacle now overcome, we moved on to the next one. When would I, he asked, Mister Zainab Khawaja – I did not even try to correct him this time. I had given up all hope by now - be home so that the package could be delivered? 4.30 was the time decided and I happily hung up the phone. My result was due to arrive! I was anxious and nervous. What grades did I get? Did I do well? A well-known nerd, I was quite obviously freaking out about my GPA. In a few hours, at 4.30, it would be unavoidable. YIKES.
My worries were in vain. No, that does not mean I got a 4.0 GPA. That means Leopard Courier Service never showed up. I called their regional headquarters at 5.30 pm, then 6 pm – both times I was informed that the courier was most definitely on his way. Then, when I called at 6.30 pm, I was kindly directed to Mr. Nadeem of Operations, who said to me. “Why don’t you just wait patiently? We’ve told you it’s on its way. It will get there when it will get there. You should stop calling us.”
From 6.30 to 7.30, I found that they had disconnected their phone line at the regional headquarters, and when I called at 7.45, a kindly gentleman – after I ranted at him (as politely as possible) about MY VERY IMPORTANT PACKAGE THAT NEVER ARRIVED – said that he would make sure it was delivered at 5pm the next day.
I would like to end by saying that on the Leopards Courier website, it says: “At Leopards, we believe time is money”, and I would just like to say, I believe you’re just about bankrupt.
* please note this information has been changed for obvious reasons