It was one of those cold winters that descends on Toronto every year without fail from the top of the World. Winds howling at speeds upwards of sixty kilometers trying to embrace every man, woman and child into its icy bear-hug … till death do us apart!

Once upon a time people used to get up and offer morning prayers and recite the qu’ran…the daily routine now started with opening the weather channel with a bismillah to decide what to wear for the day. But i digress.

If the temperature is in single digit viz (-) 9C or below, then just a heavy coat is needed. If it's upto (-)20C, then thermals and a heavy coat with gloves is used. And if it is lower than (-) 30 C, the layers get multiplied and aadmi ka bachcha resembles a bhaloo ka bachcha.

During that cold winter I had to drive to Toronto to apply for new Pakistani ID card at the consulate. The temp was (-) 37C and the wind was in excess of 60 kmph. The parking lot was 200 meters away from the entrance of the consulate building and walking that distance with a brief case containing documents was more difficult than crossing the mythical pul e siraat.

Breathing faltered (a little exaggeration), tear drops falling down the cheeks uninhibited and freezing ( a little more exaggeration)...but you get the idea.

Let me start at the beginning, having left home at 9-30 am, I was smack-dab in the notorious Toronto gridlock found daily at office hours on the busiest highway in the world --highway 401 with 16 lanes, 8 in each direction. All the lanes choc a bloc and moving at the rate of 3 kmph. Add the powdery snow flying in the air and coating cars and windscreens and visibility getting from bad to worse and you will get the picture.

After couple of hours of tense driving, I reached the consulate and there was a queue as long as shaitaan ki aaNt. Khair got the application submitted and exited from the warm consulate into the cold hell.

In the meanwhile the car had been covered in a layer of snow which had to be removed. The deed was done with rasping breath and numb hands while Ghalib kept messing with my mind with--ngliyaaN figaar apni, khama khooN chakaN apna….

I lost touch with time and reality, I had a vast sea of white powdery hell that needed to be cleared off the wind shield and the rear window. By the time I finished cleaning one side of my car a fresh blast of powdery snow would replace the cleaned portion -- reminded me of the mythical story of Hydra --cut one head, out come ten more. I had no idea where my fingers were, or did I have a nose while the eyes had lost all the tears it contained like prophet Jacob.

Back on highway 401 for return journey and this time the road was moving pretty briskly...but i speak too soon...i saw this idiot in the rear view mirror who was zigzagging between the slow moving traffic on a BMW SUV at about 90 KMPH on the slippery road and overtaking other cars from either sides and I knew an accident was in the offing very soon.

Shortly, traffic started slowing down till it came to a halt. It was nearly 2 o'clock in the afternoon and I was tired and hungry. There were sirens and a couple of police cars, an ambulance and a fire brigade crossed us with great difficulty and we assumed an accident somewhere ahead. Meaning further delays.

After nearly 90 minutes the traffic started moving slowly and lo and behold the MBW SUV had somersaulted and was lodged into the divider having hit two other cars. Luckily no casualties, except the BMW was a total loss and the driver, who was a young Chinese had suffered a couple of broken ribs and some head wounds.

It was nearly 8 hours since I embarked on my journey and now I wanted to relieve myself so very badly that I can't even explain the searing pain that emerged somewhere deep in the recesses of humanity that Mehdi Hasan described as yeh dhuaN sa kahaN se uThta hai. It was an unbelievable torture and controlling the urge to let go reminded me of a cheap verse. No, won’t mention it here.

kabab e seekh ki manind hum kervat badaltay haiN
jo jul uthta hai ye pehlu tou vo pehlu badaltay haiN

However, changing the pehlu was not working and I couldn't stop on the sides relieve myself. That would be two crimes in one.--exposing your self to public -- punishment six months in prison and fine of one thousand dollar or both -- and urinating on public property -- punishment: fine of dollars two hundred or suspension of driving license for six months or both.

I wish I was in Pakistan at that moment where I could stop the car right on the pavement of the highway and relieve my self to my bowel’s content and the cops would have understood my situation. But not in the most civilized country in the world where the laws were made to be kept rather than be broken as is done in our homeland.

When the anguish and pain became unbearable, I did think of stopping the car and face the consequence but the pavements were like a vertical wall of ice rising to a height of nine feet or so and even if I tried I could not scale it and stand on top of the world and mark my boundary for having conquered it.

How I reached home and how I relieved myself and attained peace afterwards can not be narrated, one has to go through this experience to realize the importance of a bottle...did I say a bottle? Yes, a bottle! An old timer advised me to always keep an empty plastic bottle in the car specially during the winter months. you never know when you need it. i have since kept two in my car. For added security! One for me and one for the passenger, if any...;)