The dream starts with me taking a flight over to Pakistan, I am sure this can be attributed to all the news coverage the middle aged bearded men have been getting lately.

As the flight started, for some reason I was given a seat in the first class, it imperative that i declare the fact that I haven’t been in a plane for last 10 years let alone be seated in the first class. Nonetheless, the key element of the plane was that much of it was blue, especially the vivid memory of the air-hostesses’s skirt, which by the way was around lines of a micro-mini rather than the traditional knee high skirts. Finally the plane landed, although it felt like 24 hours in the dream, i am sure that in the real world clock, it was no more than 5 mins for the entire airplane part.

Anyways, finally the flight landed and I recall getting into the car right away, which looked alot like Geo Metro, upon more research, I found out that geo metro is nearly identical to Suzuki Cultus which is incidently sold in Pakistan. Anyways, I was driving with a friend, on what appeared to be a fairly wide and well constructed road with little yellow and black markings on the side of the road as well as giant metal railings almost the same as you’d see in a maximum security prison. The drive was much the same as that of the typical drive in North America, couple of small houses than 10~40 floor building than same pattern repeated with a Mc Donalds or KFC at every intersection. Nonetheless, I have no recollection of the objective of the drive. However, a short distance later we were stopped by a man dressed in a khaki colored uniform, someone went and asked him who he was, as i stayed in the car. Than all of a sudden i knew that he was a police officer. He told us that we could no longer travel inside the car, and if wanted to progress than we must do so on foot. All of a sudden the well built road was replaced with a road stolen out of the post war Germany and the entire scenery had gone black and white. As we walked slowly (I keep using US and WE, however, i have no recollection of who else than myself) through this post war Germany, I could see the gore in the pot holes and on the columns of the corridor that we were walking on beside the road.

Eventually we turned into what looked like a road-side hotel. As we started climbing stairs, We found men dressed in sharp uniforms holding long sweeping brush looking over very small empty clay pots and their brushes constantly circling the pots, I was awfully curious as to what this  was, but i dare not ask anyone, i am not sure what i was afraid off. Eventually we got a room in the hotel to stay. I wanted to see the balcony but i never got a chance, I am almost upset that I missed the chance to see the kind sketch my brain would have had painted off the 1/2 pakistan and 1/2 post war west Germany from the 10~20th floor.

Nonetheless, eventually, i had to take a piss for my life as I darted across the room but I could not find the toilet until i knocked the door across the now greenly lit hallway and a middle aged man, with thinning hair and a cane quietly pointed towards the men with the brushes circling the pots. I got my cue, that it was indeed the flat pots which needed to be pooped in and the men will carry them out, sort of like slaves from the Nazi Germany era, or sometime back i read an article in an UK paper discussing the state of servant class in Dubai.

I traced and talked to the similarly dressed supervisor as to how this was acceptable to have men cleaning other men’s shit & piss from flat pots. However, that man yelled back at me that his supervision area was 7 yards (whatever that means) and he could not take care of everything and every complain.

Thats where more or less the dream ended.