Three points become eleven. A masterclass in confidence over competence from the man who somehow appears whenever there's drama, food or a free space.
Every street has one person who treats parking like a competitive sport. On Barakah Close, that person is Sameer "Cuzzy" Mahmood.
There is the car noise first. Then the confident hand gesture. Then the slow look around the street like he personally designed the road layout. By the time he steps out, someone has already moved a curtain, Imran has already looked outside, and Rayyan has already said, "That's Cuzzy."
Parking, according to Cuzzy, is not about lines, spaces or basic road awareness. It is about timing. Presence. Confidence. And knowing a guy.
Cuzzy believes that if he noticed a parking space before someone else entered it, the space is basically his. Even if another car is closer. Even if the indicator was not on. Even if nobody else knew there was a competition happening.
To Cuzzy, parking is about intention. He will point at the space and say, "I was going there," with the confidence of a man presenting legal evidence. Imran hates this because Imran believes in rules, order and people using their common sense. Cuzzy respects all of those things in theory. In practice, he respects free parking more.
Nobody uses hazard lights with more emotional confidence than Cuzzy. To him, they mean many things at once: "I'll only be two minutes." "I am not parking, I am temporarily existing." "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." "Uncle, relax."
The problem is that Cuzzy's two minutes operate on a completely different clock from everyone else's. He says he is just running into Barakah Bargains for one thing, then comes out with a drink, snacks, a phone charger, two new conversations and information about someone's cousin's wedding. The hazard lights are still blinking. The street has accepted its fate.
Some people avoid drama. Cuzzy parks near it. A family argument at No. 786, a guest situation, a suspicious delivery, a neighbour dispute, a barbecue, an Eid rush, a cricket disagreement, or any moment where people are standing outside with opinions, Cuzzy will somehow appear.
He says he was "just passing." Nobody believes this. Cuzzy has a sixth sense for situations that include food, attention or a chance to say, "This is what I would do." He does not need an invitation. He only needs a gap on the road and enough room to open his door.
Most people understand a three-point turn as three points. Cuzzy sees that as a suggestion. Three points can become five. Five can become seven. Seven can become eleven if the street is narrow, someone is watching, and his confidence has already committed to the manoeuvre. The important thing is not whether the turn is smooth. It is acting like it was always meant to happen that way.
If Imran watches from the window, Cuzzy still lifts one hand as if to say, "Sorted." If Rayyan records it, Cuzzy says the angle made it look worse. If Ayaan is impressed, Cuzzy explains it like advanced driving science. If Aaliyah questions it, Cuzzy calls it "street awareness."
A normal person sees a tiny gap and keeps driving. Cuzzy sees destiny. He slows down, leans forward, judges the angles, and says something like, "Easy." It is not easy. Everyone knows it is not easy. The car knows it is not easy. But once Cuzzy has said "easy," there is no going back. Now the entire street is involved.
Imran comes outside because he cannot watch silently anymore. Sadia watches from inside because she already knows how this ends. Rayyan appears with his phone. Ayaan gives advice despite having no useful information. Aaliyah asks why men turn parking into a personality test. Cuzzy continues reversing. Very slowly. Very confidently. Very incorrectly.
If parking goes wrong, Cuzzy has options. The road is too narrow. The council did not design it properly. The other car is parked badly. The kerb is weird. The bin is in the wrong place. The neighbour's hedge is excessive. The angle is different in this part of Barakah Close. At no point is the issue Cuzzy. That would be too simple.
Cuzzy is not reckless in his own mind. He is adapting to hostile infrastructure. This is why he can turn a normal parking mistake into a speech about urban planning.
This is the main Cuzzy principle. Competence is useful. Confidence is essential. Cuzzy can make people believe he knows what he is doing purely through volume, facial expression and the phrase, "Trust me." Sometimes this works. Sometimes it absolutely does not.
But even when things go wrong, Cuzzy somehow exits the situation like he meant to do it. That is his gift. He can turn a bad parking attempt into a lesson, a story, or a reason everyone else should have helped earlier. He does not lose. He reframes.

Sees it as a breakdown of discipline. To him, parking badly is not just parking badly. It is a sign that society has stopped respecting basic order.

Wants the car moved before people start talking. Less interested in the philosophy and more in whether guests can still get through the front door.

Secretly admires Cuzzy's confidence. He knows Cuzzy is doing too much, but part of him wishes he had that same energy.

Sees the whole thing as evidence that men will turn a simple task into a public performance and still call it problem-solving.

Thinks it is content. He does not help. He documents.

Does not care, unless the car blocks a patch of sun.
Parking on Barakah Close has its own unwritten rules. Nobody owns the road, but everyone knows "their" space. Visitors should park sensibly, but nobody agrees on what sensible means.
And if Cuzzy is involved, the whole street somehow becomes a live audience. This is why parking works so well in House No. 786. It is small, ordinary and instantly recognisable, but in the right family, on the right street, with the right cousin, it becomes a full episode.
Cuzzy brings outside chaos into the Ali family's world.
He is not a villain. He is not even trying to cause problems. He is loyal, funny, confident and usually convinced he is helping. That is what makes him dangerous. He gives Ayaan bad advice with love. He turns errands into events. He treats every situation like an opportunity.
Every sitcom family needs that one person who does not live in the house but somehow changes the temperature the moment they arrive. For the Alis, that person is Cuzzy. And most of the time, you hear the car before you see him.
Find the gap. Trust the angle. Ignore the pressure. Blame the road. Act like everything was intentional.
And if anyone complains? Tell them you were only going to be two minutes. Because on Barakah Close, parking is never just parking.