Amjad's Day of Fun

Last Saturday, my neighbors auctioned off their house as well as all of their fancy belongings. It was one of the most exciting days in my small, boring town's history. All of the notable town personages were there - from the president of the local hospital to my own dermatologist - to see what kind of deals they could scrounge up.

I had never been to an auction before, mainly because paying money for used items seems wasteful. However, this auction was written in my kismet by Allah, the all-knowing. I was sleeping late per usual, and suddenly Bushra's face appeared in my hazy line of vision. Her father, Dr. Amjad, had awoken her bright and early to bring her to our illustrious abode because auctions were a lifelong passion for him. I hastened to awake and quickly changed clothes. Bushra, a practical soul, had no use for auctions that did not include nice handbags and accessories in the mix, so she settled down and Web-surfed for the latest celeb gossip on defamer.com and pinkisthenewblog.com.

Everyone was at the auction - my parents, her parents, Bushra's nameless sister, my aunts and uncles. So I put on my good shoes and walked through the thicket of woods dividing our homes. I wasn't used to the wildness of the North Carolina greenery, having lived for a year in the urban wasteland of Toledo, and apparently Bushra wasn't either as she got poison ivy on the torturous journey over.

The auction was the epitome of a mela (Urdu word for crazy, cool festival time). There was a hot dog stand selling overpriced food and water, Fox 8 news, and personages from all walks of life. At the center of it all was Dr. Amjad and my nameless friend, his daughter, sitting front and center. I had never seen Uncle so happy and content. When it came time to bid on a beautiful mahogany pool table, where I had watched many of my neighbor's boyfriends impress her with their super premium pool skills, I was surprised to see that Bushra's dad "won" the big ticket item. The official reason as to why such a huge fancy, unnecessary table was bought was for their son (who was moving out of the house this summer to go to college), but I think the family was enraptured by the mesmerizing voice of the auctioneer (similar to what happened to Odysseus with those pesky Sirens).

As I sat on a plastic folding chair on the front lawn, where I had spent my formative years gossiping about the incestuous dating patterns of Carlisle School, I, too, got enthralled by the auction. I felt the strange desire to bid on items that I didn't need - a Bulova watch, potted plants, and even a stack of magazines on Lady Diana, Princess of Wales. My parents bought useless items like a doctor's scale, and even Bushra got the auction bug - buying a mixer "to make really good whipped cream in." Uncle Amjad, at one point, was scratching his head, and accidentally bought an a toy car and a stone home massage kit.

Ultimately, auction day brought an unexpected excitement to all of our lives. It touched each of us, even naive, little Bushra, who came out winning a mixer for her new apartment. My nameless friend even found fame as she made it onto the local news.

Link to local news story with nifty video!

--By Mariam, whose obsession with European royalty now supersedes any previous interest in the Holocaust.