We all had to turn our clocks an hour forward today. It’s daylight savings time. Sounds funny, actually: daylight saving. Makes me imagine a little furious looking Smoegel-ish goblin, scooping up invisible daylight, under a scorching sun, into a rackety old bucket that swings noisily as he wobbles hurriedly. The un-glam hero, saving the day.
And, c’mon, how does it make any sense whatsoever to want to have more daylight in a city like Lahore at this time of year? It’s hot and icky already, and bound to get even hotter and ickier so why would anyone want to preserve more of that? It’s stuffy, stinky, sweaty and a primetime for mosquites to whizz around acting like they own my body and have the right to bite me whenever, wherever, Shakira-style. If it were up to me, I’d stay in my room, with the fan turned up and the curtains drawn, wearing nothing but the bare minimum and freaking out my roommate, all day till the sun decides to take its leave. Daylight savings in Lahore, are you kidding?
It seems like an odd practice to me, really. I really don’t understand why it happens. I mean it’s not like more daylight benefits me in any way. I woke up today thinking it was 8 am, but realised it was actually 9 am, and I actually felt pangs of guilt for oversleeping. Then I thought abut how that wuld ruin my whole schedule, and I’ll just want to sleep all the time, and procrastinate and run away from doing any work. I’ll fail and then my mom will think I’m doing drugs, a conclusion she reaches very quickly and also very often every time I sleep a little more than usual. And that’ll be the end of me. So you see, in saving the day, I lose myself. Not cool.