It was a shock to say the least. I didn’t expect to feel the violence that comes with discharging a gun. I’ve always felt that I would be trigger happy, I wouldn’t mind shooting from a gun. I honestly believed I had a predilection for shooting, what with all the detective fiction I read and watched in overdoses and still salivated for more. The difference between reality and fantasy absolutely dawned on me when I held that 9mm gun in my hand. It was recreational shooting but nothing prepared me for the violence in the sound of gun discharging, for the kick you feel when the trigger is pressed or for the enormity of the whole act.
My cousin, his friend and I finally managed to make it to the Caracal shooting range after planning over a year. It took so long as we would always plan and then forget. The prices were slightly steep; we paid around AED 275 for 25 rounds and safety instructions (since we were first timers). You could pay another 50 bucks and get another round of 25 bullets. While we were waiting to register, we watched two guys engage in a pistol-shooting duel; the targets looked like bowling pins. The guy on the right knocked down each one of them without missing, while his opponent struggled. I thought, “Great. This I want to do! When can we sign up for that?”
When we were ushered in our section, I was only hoping that there wouldn’t be an audience. Luckily, besides a local guy shooting with a rifle, we were the only ones there. Taking our instructions from our very friendly Pakistani instructor, I could only focus on the overwhelmingly loud shot sounds. So palms sweating, ear mufflers on (I forgot to put the eye shields),I took my stance and fired. Bang! What did I feel? “What the hell am I doing?” “How do people shoot every day?” “I can’t do this.” “Ok. Relax. One more shot. Slowly…” Mid-way through our session, my cousin finished his; I asked him if he wanted to take over mine. He was in his elements, getting everything on target. He refused and took another round of 25. At one point, I was saying my prayers, wondering why I couldn’t fire even when I was pressing the trigger and hoping that I don’t shoot anybody, worse yet blow up my own face. I don’t have that kind of money to pay off the blood money debt! Whilst all these random, negative thoughts were running through my head, I think the panic showed on my face. The instructor came in and told me to relax. He just needed to reload the cartridge! I felt like a complete idiot.
To say I was nervous would be an understatement but nevertheless my shots were just fine for a first timer. Considering my lack of aim, I would say it was a pretty bang up job. I think 4 or 5 shots of mine disappeared somewhere, while the rest made it somewhere on my target sheet. Every time the instructor asked me to shut my left eye and focus on the target, I would yell, “I can’t shut my eye. If I shut my eye, I can’t see anything at all.” I would attempt to ‘spot’ the target and then shoot blindly, most of the shooting was blind shots—they might as well have blindfolded me.
I always thought that I would be delighted at finally being able to shoot but I simply didn’t feel nice or even right. Maybe it was nerves, though I was so glad that I didn’t shoot anybody! At the same time I was proud of the fact that my hands were relatively steady and didn’t give in to my trademark hand tremble in nervous situations, though long after that my hand felt quivery and wobbly. I’ll just put that down to adrenaline after the act.
I don’t know if I would want to go again—part of me wants to give it another shot, to try again, and reassess if I am a non-gun type—or whether I should just let it rest and just tick it off my list of things to do and move on to the next sedate thing that is more up my alley.
PS: I meant to upload this last night with pictures (okay just one) and all. Got too lazy, so this goes up as today's post. I'll add the pictures later
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