The Karachi Customs and Taxation Courts are located in an unassuming, non pretentious leafy, yellow bricked older than time building. My mom and I went there to sort out the last of the pesky court case that had been brought up against her wrongly, by a confused old man who was convinced she was the wife of his ex-partner and had cheated him out of 3 million rupees. Drastic? I thought so too.
We met our lawyer, and went into the court; the judge came in. She was one of the most frustrated looking women I’d ever seen, and her high pitch voice seemed to yell, yell repeatedly. This is about how I was surprised by the degree of kindness shown to us by the people in the court (all besides the judge herself)..
My mom was nervous to say the least, and me more so, because I’d never been in an actual court. The lawyer assured me there was nothing to be scared of. As the case proceeded, my mother and I were called in front of the judge. And then, it happened. The reader called my name and told me to step up onto the witness box. I swear I thought I would faint. I’d had absolutely no warning, and no practice for this.
So I went up, gave my name, answered a few questions, and even managed a mean smile for the judge. Stepping down, we were ushered into the side room, and I found my mom with tears in her eyes. She’d gotten so scared all of a sudden because she hadn’t expected the judge would call on me.
That’s only one of the two times I’ve ever seen my mom cry, and I think it might not be too late to fix our relationship after all.