A.Rafay
ELITE MEMBER
- Joined
- Apr 25, 2012
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KARACHI
Arbab Hussain is a small-scale motor parts importer. He has a shop in Mithadar. His clients would visit his shop on a regular basis, and the turnover was good, but mainly in medium-term credit. He was faring well in the inflation-plagued market and thanked God for it. What happened next was perhaps in the offing. One fine day, two young men came to his shop, shook his hand, and politely handed him a Parchi asking him to pay Rs200,000 as extortion money.
I knew I had to pay the money. There was no second thought. The only question was how, he said.
Arbab was in no position to gather Rs.200,000 in two weeks time. I could not sleep at night. I slipped into depression, he said. Whatever money he had was tied up in bits and pieces of assets.
He is 55, married and has four children. His eldest son was about to enter a private university. His daughter was to get married in two months. He had been saving for both these occasions, when the men came for the extortion money. The deadline was death-line; if I didnt pay, I would be shot dead. That was understood, he said.
Arbab wrote a cheque and drew the last drop of money he had in his personal account. He called his friend in Dubai and sought Rs50,000. The friend helped. He was still short of funds. I made it a point not to sell anything out of fear. I thought I would manage to pool the money.
But the deadline was nearing. Arbab was sick from the stress. He thought if he easily paid off the money, the men could come again with another Parchi. I had to show my anxiety and the pressure I was going through.
He called them to seek time and told them that he managed to arrange Rs110,000. The call did not work. They did not listen. I told them my daughter was getting married in three months time and that I was already stuck with this grand obligation. But to no avail.
At last, Arbab had to rethink his plan of not selling any of his assets. He had a Suzuki Mehran, which he had bought three years ago. The car was my convenience; I saved for six months to buy the car. Arbab had to dispose it of to meet the deadline
I paid in time and managed to save my life but I am in a financial mess, he said. The Parchi left a gaping hole in his plans. I am in debt which I have to clear.
The thing that keeps eating away at him now is what if one day two young men came to his shop, shook his hand, and politely handed him another Parchi.
The
Arbab Hussain is a small-scale motor parts importer. He has a shop in Mithadar. His clients would visit his shop on a regular basis, and the turnover was good, but mainly in medium-term credit. He was faring well in the inflation-plagued market and thanked God for it. What happened next was perhaps in the offing. One fine day, two young men came to his shop, shook his hand, and politely handed him a Parchi asking him to pay Rs200,000 as extortion money.
I knew I had to pay the money. There was no second thought. The only question was how, he said.
Arbab was in no position to gather Rs.200,000 in two weeks time. I could not sleep at night. I slipped into depression, he said. Whatever money he had was tied up in bits and pieces of assets.
He is 55, married and has four children. His eldest son was about to enter a private university. His daughter was to get married in two months. He had been saving for both these occasions, when the men came for the extortion money. The deadline was death-line; if I didnt pay, I would be shot dead. That was understood, he said.
Arbab wrote a cheque and drew the last drop of money he had in his personal account. He called his friend in Dubai and sought Rs50,000. The friend helped. He was still short of funds. I made it a point not to sell anything out of fear. I thought I would manage to pool the money.
But the deadline was nearing. Arbab was sick from the stress. He thought if he easily paid off the money, the men could come again with another Parchi. I had to show my anxiety and the pressure I was going through.
He called them to seek time and told them that he managed to arrange Rs110,000. The call did not work. They did not listen. I told them my daughter was getting married in three months time and that I was already stuck with this grand obligation. But to no avail.
At last, Arbab had to rethink his plan of not selling any of his assets. He had a Suzuki Mehran, which he had bought three years ago. The car was my convenience; I saved for six months to buy the car. Arbab had to dispose it of to meet the deadline
I paid in time and managed to save my life but I am in a financial mess, he said. The Parchi left a gaping hole in his plans. I am in debt which I have to clear.
The thing that keeps eating away at him now is what if one day two young men came to his shop, shook his hand, and politely handed him another Parchi.
The
