A letter to the KESC

Dear recipient,

I apologise for not capitalising the ‘r’ in recipient, I would have done so had I considered you deserving of the honour or the time; I don’t, so it shall remain as it was supposed to be. It’s 2:35 am, there is no power and there hasn’t been any for the past four hours and I am currently smoking my third cigarette within the span of forty five minutes, Ipad in hand writing this to you, not in the hopes that you will reply but with the hope that you will read it and forthwith consider yourself to be a part of the foul and ugly lard that is left on the sides of a frying pan after one fries one too many sausages in the same oil.

I have nothing against you personally, I just sincerely doubt your abilities as an able employee of the KESC, which not only reeks of inefficiency but also of the wretched squalor of a Dark Ages organisation functioning outside the modern day conception of human rights and business ethics. You have the astonishing audacity to send me a bill every month with the expectation that I will pay it. Let me enlighten you about how that process works and what goes on in my head while it does.

The Dark Ages… was there ever any other kind?

A folded bill is left at my doorstep every month, which I retrieve with the eagerness of a man with genital sores receiving test results and is hoping it is not a sexually transmitted disease. I then proceed to open it with just the right amount of revulsion for I am certain that the man who left it there is equally as repulsive as yourself and has left a communicable disease upon the paper that would render me mentally incapacitated and then I stare at the sum expected of me. The sum is always exorbitant to say the least and it always makes me wonder why I pay it. Possibly because I imagine you smiling inanely at your ineptitude. While I always pay my bill on time, you and your godforsaken organisation never come up to my expectations concerning the efficient provision of electricity.

When I pay my bill what I expect is a timely and rarely uninterrupted provision of electricity for the following month, yet you fail and by ‘fail’ I do not mean that some of all the attempts you undertake to achieve your task turn out to be unsuccessful, no. By ‘fail’ I mean that you have defied the very bounds human incompetence and have relegated yourself to the realm reserved for egestions of great inconvenience that are flushed without a moment’s consideration.

If you are an electrical engineer by chance then realise this; you are only so by mere chance, because whatever you did to get a degree happened either by circumstance or by a sad failure on the part of the educational institute that granted you the degree or by a combination of both. If you were a business major in college then you obviously slept through the ethics course as well as the economics course and had to rely on small clippings of notes stapled to the cuff of your long-sleeved, collared shirt; painstakingly designed to make it seem as if you were someone to contend with. If you do not have any sort of educational validation, well then I suppose reading down till here must have been quite a detrimental exercise for you and I would suggest that you go back to your search string hoping to find a nude Katrina Kaif, furthermore you are a part of the agonisingly uneducated chancre that happens to rule this country without any sagacity or common sense.

Katrina Kaif is so 5 minutes ago, now it’s all about Sahir Lodhi.

I know you are wondering as to why I am being so vicious, still you should be thankful that I have yet to turn vile. I shall tell you why; of the twenty four hours you and your company are supposed to provide the population with electricity, you only manage to muster up a few and at the end of it demand that the prices be raised so that you can meet the demands of PEPCO. For years now you have transferred the debt of your inadequacy to the population and even with our severe misgivings about your ability to do your work properly, we have tolerated your impotence in the same way one puts up with a deplorably hirsute, drooling, mentally challenged cousin born out of wedlock between first cousins. Maybe that’s what you are, an unfortunate mutant lovechild borne of sexual depravity and lack of moral fortitude. Though that’s another debate entirely.

To give you a short lesson in cost-effectiveness, for I am aware that your attention span is equal to that of a parched pye-dog, here’s my advice, you should probably stop ordering pre-printed coloured stationery for the bills as coloured ink costs more than black ink. If you are of the opinion that people will pay their bills on time because of all the pretty colours, you are gravely mistaken; they will take their own sweet time to go about it. Furthermore you should seriously consider the idea of implementing an electronic billing system which would drastically reduce your carbon footprint as well as deliver bills in a more timely and effective manner. You could also try and initiate an ‘actual’ crackdown on those hell bound misers stealing electricity, provided that you have the gumption to actually go up against the scum of the earth without wetting your carefully creased trousers. Within the span of a few sentences I have come up with three cost cutting strategies that you could have come up with years ago had you enough brain cells to clean yourself after relieving yourself in the toilet.

In your case, the cleaning might need to be a tad excessive.

I also find it to be my duty to advise you in relation to ethics as, so far as I can tell, you have none. My reason for thinking so is because I imagine you sitting at your desk while reading this and gratifying yourself at the thought of a younger and comely although underage cousin. I consider you to be an animal with an unusually base appetite for unsuspecting children. I maybe wrong on some counts yet I know that I am not incorrect in referring to your shameless dissoluteness. Since I have not sinned in that manner, nor do I ever intend to, I shall be casting the first stone and what a stone it fucking is. Your first lesson in ethics will be along the lines of respecting the rules and commonly known practices of exchange and trade; when I give you money, I assume that that you will do your job and provide me with the electricity I require to go about my daily routine. This exchange of hard-earned cash and the promise of furnishing me with services, does in no way entitle you to sit at work and leer at the prospect of being able to see the aforementioned youthful relative, all the while hoping to get off early to go home and satiate your ignoble lechery.

Now if you have a wife and children, or just children for I doubt any lucid woman would put up with your level of inexcusable puerility, I suggest that you bequeath to them your meagre possessions and jump in front of a minibus. The transport situation might be affected, there might be a strike, a physical remand of the driver will most likely follow only to end in a release once a morbidly obese judge has been paid off. But after grubby paws have been greased, false egos assuaged and pennies tinkle in the pouches of certain kangaroo courts, you will come out a martyr (a pointless one at that) and your family will mourn your (un)timely demise while I will celebrate the fact that another sodding waste of life has been done away with.

This rant may seem ungentlemanly but you must realise that I had no other alternative. Were I a monkey I would have cheerfully gone to the nearest KESC office to hurl my excrement at you and your colleagues in derision, but evolution has its disadvantages for with opposable thumbs I am also the proud owner of a rational brain.

Though we mean no disrespect to our future simian overlords.

Were I a believer, I would have gone to the nearest place of worship to curse you from here till high heaven, yet as I said before I am a rational being. These attributes make me a sophisticated human being, albeit one armed to the teeth with words and expletives to make a sailor gasp in undue alarm; I have not used any here for I reserve them for the time I call your offices to complain and I am a gentleman and I do hope that some comely ladies are intrigued by my cunning linguistics.

If I have hurt your feelings and if you are expecting an apology sometime soon then I am bound to inform you that that is an exercise in futility, for I have no inclination to apologise and you should probably refer to your mother (who also happens to be your aunt, once-removed), who will, by the end of this letter, have tears of shame in her eyes at the idea of having borne such a useless abomination. If she does not, then she too is a wretch of monolithic proportions and should join you as you leap in front of a bus on your way to the grave.

The purpose of this exercise was to make you aware of the magnitude of your inability, your lack of ethics and your complete and utter disregard for the people of Karachi who have the disconsolate misfortune of being your consumers. I cannot help but tell you that I also intended to call you a contemptible consequence of intestinal resentment thrown out by bowels in inordinate turmoil, but I was not able to then thus I am doing so now. I do hope you have never been called a putrid piece of fecal matter in so many words, because that event would make me doubt my abilities as a writer and withhold from me the extraordinary amount of satisfaction I derive from this letter. When I know that people have read it and have laughed at you with disparagement, I will be as gleeful as a psychotic circus freak with a mean streak. My vituperation will have achieved an end and I will move on to my next project of castigating another ailing apparatus of this decidedly failed state.

I do not wish you well at all and I hope with all my faith in chance that you meet a gory and excruciating end.

Sincerely,

A justifiably nasty consumer

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Omar Khan is every senile grandmother’s BIFF (Best Imaginary Friend Forever).

Advertisements

Tags:

Categories: Science & Tech

Subscribe

Subscribe to our RSS feed and social profiles to receive updates.

2 Comments on “A letter to the KESC”

  1. Ali
    November 21, 2011 at 11:04 am #

    If it’s a “decidedly failed state”, than why don’t you just leave this place and go live in any other country, and by the way I don’t know about the others but I am getting my electricity bills through email, also the bills are available on their website at link “http://www.staging.kesc.com.pk/”. For your information, the load shedding hours in Karachi are much less than other parts of the Country. The Industrial Zones of Karachi are 100% load shedding free and you can ask the representatives from those Areas.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: