I marvel at the change that comes upon my fellow Pakistanis when they visit a foreign land. From callous flouters of public rules and regulations, these individuals become models of responsible and disciplined law abiding citizens, only to revert to their former self, the moment their flight touches down on Pakistani soil. A similar change occurs when we drive along the two motorways linking Peshawar with Islamabad and the federal capital with Lahore. This lends credence to the conclusion that if things are to be put right, then we must exercise an effective enforcement of law - an enforcement that is applied mercilessly and inexpediently from the highest to the lowest in the land.Take, for example, the simplest of rules displayed in a showcased rose conservatory in Lawrence Garden - “do not pick flowers”. True to our nature, we must violate this instruction and emerge from the entrance carrying not one, but half a dozen roses in our hand. It is in that spirit that I am presenting to my readers a satirical view of some ‘rules of the road’ and how we observe them.A motorbike must have rear-view mirrors and should be ridden by two persons. The person driving this two-wheeled vehicle must wear a crash helmet. Wear a crash helmet - only sissies wear this form of headgear. What is the fun if a motorcycle is not ridden by at least three persons and as far as the mirrors are concerned, they are, to say the least, an inconvenience? And oh! Do remove the silencer as this would make the bike sound ‘bombastic’.Seatbelts must be worn by all automobile drivers and their front passengers. Hush - what nonsense. Who wants to sit trussed up like a chicken just about to go into the oven.Use of mobile phones while driving is forbidden. This is hogwash. What use is a mobile phone if I can’t chat on it, while cruising in the fast lane on a busy city road? I even intend to break my previous speed record and take a photo of the speedometer with my cell phone camera to record my achievement - Hah! Stop being a spoil sport by telling me that I might kill myself doing it.Observe speed limits. Follow this rule and look like an old biddy. Speed thrills - so what if it kills and anyway I feel great when my friends call me ‘fast and furious’. What? How can I be six feet under, when I am feeling ten feet tall.Obstructing the police in the performance of their duty is an offence. Who made this rule? Yesterday, I tried to hurry across the F9 park intersection just as the light was turning amber and this moron in grey stopped me, motioning me to roll down my window. I kept it up as my AC was on and it terribly hot outside. He then had the audacity to stand in front of my car - I had to argue with this dude for 15 minutes before I regretfully allowed myself to be given a ticket. I think I made the cardinal mistake of stopping and later not arguing forcefully enough with the cop. Or perhaps, I should have called up my friend’s father-in-law, who has access to high places and got this particular cop suspended. Nonetheless, I shall do all this and more, the next time my social commitments force me to jump the red light. Give way. And lower my macho image - no way! If the hotrod behind me wants to overtake me, he has enough space in the lane to my left to do so.Disclaimer: The contents of my column are not meant to hurt the feelings of any free citizen, who fits the profiles given in the case studies, for the similarity is inadvertent and purely coincidental.

nThe writer is a freelance columnist.