It’s been a while. Missed being here. Missed a lot of things actually. On of them is this..
So how have you been?
Oh and here’s the eyebrows reference. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9WckQxRwN8
Rubbernecks Make Me Wish…
I’ve said this before, I’m saying this again that a vast majority of Pakistani men are simply… Unbelievable! Not all but most of them, specially the ones on the street who assume that women are God’s petty invention that were created with the sole intention of satisfying their sexual fetishes. Equipped with X-ray vision, chewing gum/paan and a car, they’re out on the prowl.
Fulfilling his destiny
They’re so experienced they can not tell apart a hooker from a lady. To them, we’re all desi geishas. They’re so confident about their killer looks that they haven’t checked themselves out in the mirror in years. In their own eyes they’re sexier than the LMFAO guy.
not sure if this guy's sexy but he sure looks like a pansy.
But as divorced from reality as they are, they do not know how WE actually find them! (click play):
They cannot be blamed since the women who have blown their ego out of proportion were either blind or deranged or were simply other perverted guys talking in a girly voice over the phone. They can also not tell a blind and deranged woman apart from those who look daggers at them. “Wild stares” eh. But how could this be? I mean with half of Pakistani women dressing up like ninjas, these dudes got some nerve! It’s not entirely besides the matter that our ninjas, instead of mastering ninjutsu, spend their time watching morning shows and starplus at home. Perhaps, this is where the problem lies. We do not know ninjutsu. Dressing like a ninja is clearly not enough!
So there, these rubbernecks make me wish:
1. I was a ninja fully equipped with nun-chucks and a Katana. All of this would easily disappear in my spacious burqa. Like a dark horse on the sly, nothing to give my game away! My ninja costume so useful I could use it to cover non-ninja sisters in trouble too. And as the douche would catcall, in a fraction of a second I would be behind him and my gloved fingers would poke his eyes out. Rough justice served!
2. I was a werewolf, or better still a were-auntie or a werecave-woman. So formidably huge and hairy my frame would suddenly turn and then I’d wham him to a thin paste with my spiked club! Then I’d serve my freshly pounded delicacy to street dogs and all the other men who scratch their crotch upon seeing us (try anti-lice shampoo) would then grab it and run for their lives. OR else, you must’ve heard about “Kata-Kut”.
And so once again women would be able to walk the streets of Karachi without being catcalled at or groped.
3. I was a sorceress or something. As soon as he’d slow his car (as they do) upon coming near us, I’d make a billboard fall over his car. And if there’s no billboard, I’ll make Anjuman appear out of nowhere in the air and she’d fall on him! Bam.
4. I could momentarily, only momentarily, turn into Maya Khan, the Prophet of Doom! Such a ball-buster!
So men, before a woman somewhere in Karachi toughens up and goes about giving cheap men atomic wedgies, learn to mind your own business on the road and let us be out as equal citizens in this land of pure. All this unwanted attention that you’re dying to give to us, please give it to other men. Also grope other men, preferably policemen and then see what happens.
Beware of the woman behind you!
Hyperbolically Hormonal Day.
Today’s that day of the year that I like to remember as “Hyperbolically Hormonal Day”, also the day when toy shops make record sales. Perhaps the second most anticipated day of the year amongst youngsters whose raging hormones can be compared to fire ants in their pants. The same hormones that usually send them swinging from one emotional extreme to the next as swiftly as Tarzan. On hyperbolically hormonal day, hormones enkindle a wide array of emotional sparks amongst people. These sparks rarely stay in one’s heart and always manage to escape. Which hormones come into play dictates which routes these sparks take to escape and what they end up lighting eventually.
It’s a fiery day to say the least. People are seen putting a match to one thing or the other. It depends entirely on the hormones that what is set alight. Some light candles, some light cigarettes, some burn Valentine’s day banners, some simply burn themselves up because they’re done with burning all three of the above. While people like me use fire to make tea and enjoy seeing all four of the above from within the comfort of their home. Either people are burning in love or they’re burning seeing others burn in love while they claim to not give an elephant’s shit. As men rush to toy shops to buy teddies, the religious lot, while protesting against the widespread celebrations on V-day, end up giving it bad publicity. Just the way they give it to other blasphemous stuff because it’s better to revile than to ignore everything that’s basically bunk. Of course burning fancy valentine’s day banners is just the thing to make young people in love turn around. I can totally see how blowing up anti-valentine’s day balloons get parents’ point across to their hormonal kids.
Karachi literally got painted red and so did a lot of girls..and boys. “Red” is what gets into the eyes if one ventures out during the second week of feb. I simply do not see what affect does the red uniform achieve except “habituation” wherein there is a decrease in response to a stimulus after being repeatedly exposed to it. I also do not see the glory in men buying teddies and candies. I don’t care if people out there on the streets get together to celebrate an American holiday or the national flag day of Estonia or the boxing day of Uganda or the independence day holiday of Madagascar or Chile instead and why not, it’s a day to be happy about people who’re happy about their great grandparents being happy about being free from some ancient dictator. But dear countrymen, whatever day you celebrate, be sure you’re not fooled into becoming a victim of corporate monkey business through corporate sponsored events. I know all those balloon hearts with spongebob on it really get people in an amorous mood and then there’s an overpowering urge to buy a teddy bear but make sure you’re not being made to do it either through corny ad hypnosis or peer pressure. And don’t kid yourself by assuming that corporations don’t lure you into buying their products in the name of love in massive quantities. That’s what makes v-day look like a teenage love joke to me, the corniness. Had it not been the corporations cashing in on our emotions, V-day too would have been as modest an affair as say Labour day. Why don’t corporate giants sponsor earth day shows the way they sponsor V-day specials on tv? Why don’t corporations invest in making Earth day look cool to young people who’re ready to jump any bandwagon anytime to appear badass? Why don’t they arrange for fancy environmentalist events where people are reminded of their responsibility towards showing some love to other living beings too, if they’re so loyal in seducing us into celebrating “Love” that is! Perhaps because they don’t see an emotional side to exploit in this regard or perhaps its because we’re not sexually attracted to plants to show them some love. Happy v-day to you, love just got cliched.
Baboons too?
Of Sweaters, Saris and Shadis.
Karachi’s experiencing some real winters this year that leaves us feeling like a chicken without its plumage. My feet and the cucumbers in the fridge have the same temperature right now. I also have an incredible urge to keep popping peanuts into my mouth round the clock, with my mouth usually wide open like that of a hungry nestling and peanuts raining into it!
This winter food craving is more of a scientific phenomenon rather than plain old nadeedapun (greed). People experience carb craving during winters to boost their serotinin (mood uplifting hormone) levels that stoop because of decreased exposure to sunlight and therefore lower Vitamin-D levels. So to boost my serotinin levels to the point of euphoria, I’m going to attend a wedding tonight ’cause frankly, Shaadi food is just divine! No smorgasbord I’ve had anywhere comes close to that. It’s totally worth buying a gift and flowers for, dressing up and going all the way up to the shaadi! What puts me in a bind is the temperature. Stilettos and socks don’t mix, or can they?
With wedding clothes suited for summers, ladies usually have these options.
1. Bollywood Approach:
Even Hercules would have been wearing a sweater!
The most popular approach! For this, one simply needs to put on a sleeveless outfit made out of net, a sari with short blouse would be just the thing! By employing this method of dressing up, a woman displays (aside from her muscles) the supreme insulating power of the blubber underneath her skin. This is akin to the use of blubber a walrus makes. This approach is best suited to plus size women who have a blanket of blubber inside their skin to offer absolute weatherproofness. If you’re skinny and still going for this approach, it could be an early sign of hyperthyroidism and fashion-freakism.
Effective use of makeup is essential in this case as the blueness of the lips and cheeks must be camouflaged at all times. Lipstick must remain in the purse as food may wipe it off resulting in people asking you if you thought you were in the Sahara.
Top Tip: Do not hide those beautiful feet with socks! Men and babies wear socks.
2. Desi Approach:
Clothes these days cost a fortune. Why spend money worth two months of your dad/husband’s salary on buying new clothes for every other wedding, specially warm clothes for winter weddings. You can be snug as a bug in a rug just by combining your summer and winter apparel!
Comfort over style
This approach comes with a lot of pluses:
-very practical (joke) approach!
- no need to wear matching jewelry unless you decide to wear it Over all of this!
- hides back skin folds (also called tyres)
-No additional cost!
The downside is not really a downside if you aren’t fashion conscious. Though beware of people unnecessarily wanting to take pictures with you!
3. Expensive Approach:
Just buy a bunch of velvet outfits, one for each event though underprivileged people might judge you, stare at you! Eyes to be rolled.
4. Romantic Approach:
For this one needs to be around a gentleman in a slick suit who seems to be following you around. It’s also to test him out. Sit pretty and shiver! If he lends you his coat, at first hesitate shyly then boldly accept it like its yours. It also helps raising your status with fellow spinsters.
Top Tip: If the guy tells you to keep his coat, don’t! It could mean the coat is either defected or stolen.
The approach I want to use, however is the “reasonable approach” used by men. Their apparel is designed so intelligently that they not only use it uniformly all year round, in every wedding and still look great, it is suited for both summers and winters. Such a hassle-free practical attire is all you need when you need to kill two birds with one stone.
I wish cross-dressing for weddings could work! Sigh.
Who are these people attacking Eid Milad-un-Nabi processions in Pakistan?
Multiple attacks have been reported on 5 February 2012 on the Eid Milad-un-Nabi (12 Rabi-ul-Awal) processions in various cities in Pakistan including Mansehra, Gujranwala, Gojar Khan, Mirpur, Khairpur and Karachi.
"Happy Eid-e-Milad-ub-Nabi everyone!" I saw this post today, I liked it for its depiction of solidarity between muslims of different sects on this occasion and the heartening efforts of our non-muslim countrymen to go an extra mile to greet us all. Thank you! You not only took a risk only to greet Pakistani muslims (when you could have simply watched movies at home and enjoyed your sunday), you people also showed how secure you are about your beliefs and that its does you no harm to show solidarity with people of other beliefs, despite being ostracized/threatened by extremists. That's the spirit! May the good Pakistanis win over the bad ones. Amen. (I don't subscribe to the sectarian twist at the end, neither am I sure of its authenticity!)
Sink The Differences, Shall We?
This is a personal post. You’re free to ignore it and watch tv. It’s a confession I wanted to make publicly. Stalkers are encouraged to get lost.
****
While aunties have earned themselves a reputation of undisputed notoriety, and a channel called Star-Plus, through decades of hard work and perseverance, I have now started to sympathize with them for several reasons. Firstly because they can be pretty accurate on most occasions although their tyrannizing tone only cancels that out. Secondly, they can be really funny and are talented enough to turn a dull moment instantly into a dramatic scene from Starplus. Thirdly, they’re usually our mom’s age and it’s kinda crude to diss an elder. And lastly, because everyone’s now hurling abuse at them (online ’cause samnay tou himmat nahi hoti) so much so that the word “Auntie” itself has become a cuss word of sorts. In the mind of an average youngster, the term “auntie” mostly means a shrew/hag/churail. Whoever is caught committing an offense is termed an auntie, latest example is Maya Khan (vigil-aunty). If a man is found talking nonsense, he too is called an auntie! If a girl steps on someone’s foot, she’s pronounced auntie. (I wonder if in this scenario auntie means blind?). “Aunty” can be substituted for almost all insults.
I hate my boss.. she’s such an aunty!
Boy I’m hooked onto my phone like an auntie!
Mom, don’t be such an auntie.
That baldy’s an uncle but he’s really only an auntie!
Maya Khan, that middle-aged jealous auntie.. pyar ki dushman!
It’s not only being disrespectful towards older women, it’s sexist and ageist and besides everything, it’s not even funny anymore. Once we begin to think low of someone covertly (but openly online) it doesn’t take long for it to translate into our actions. Therefore I do believe that we’re heading towards war. A war that we’re sure to lose because knives go limp in front of gunfire!
This auntie-bashing trend is really catching on! Either people are writing on aunties or about being an auntie. I too posted an auntie post on this blog earlier on because some aunties had really gotten on my nerves and I took it upon myself to pay homage to their impressive trolling skills. But why just aunties? Why are tharki uncles spared, who peek into their neighbors’ windows? Who slow their cars down and catcall at girls their daughter’s age? If one looks at it rationally, it seems we young ones can be pretty stereotypical, judgmental and uptight ourselves. It’s we, the girls of today, who have slowly started to morph into aunties ourselves by starting early on blamestorming. We’re the aunties of tomorrow!
Dissing aunties would help zilch, respecting them might cut it. They might appear to be industrial-strenght but they’re old, probably more vulnerable and weak. Lampooning them has started to seem like a bad joke to me.. just as bad as they make us feel! I guess it would only accelerate our irrefutable aging into a proverbial “auntie” ourselves.
The word “Auntie” literally means “Khala”, lets not degrade it to something we won’t like to become. Just let them do their thing (which is obviously to piss us off and make life difficult for us at the first available chance!) while we try to be nice in front of them and behind their backs and possibly to find a good way to put our concerns/complaints across. Perhaps through forwarded SMSes and emails. Well, I’m at sea.
And now, my favorite aunties from the web! ♥
Shit people say to Karachiites!
Owling is so last year! This year it’s all about “shit people say”, Shit black people say, shit white people say, Shit black n white people say, shit nobody says etc. So I obviously had to contribute to this umm.. shit.. fever. (Though this was supposed to be posted a few months back when people weren’t really making shit videos)
I shall now effortlessly reproduce everything that has been actually said to me by non-Karachiites and the thoughts that followed. Most of the times what they said really sounded like “shit” and most of the times those people happened to be paindoos who wait in the wings for an unwary Karachiite to appear so that they can finally relieve themselves of all the pent up shit.
Here goes.
You’re from Karachi? OH
Kia matlab? Oh I get it. “You Paindoo? OH”
But you don’t look like you’re from Karachi! You’re nice.
You don’t look like you’re from Karachi too, you’re dumb!
Ugh.. I’d rather die if I’d to live in Karachi!
Ugh.. you should rather die now instead of bitching about my home.
Karachi haan? Ooohh udher to her waqt goliyan chalti rehti hain na?
Go take your prozac buddy. Anxiety does that.
So how do you people even go out? I mean with bullets raining everywhere!
-_-
So have you ever actually Seen people firing?
-___-
hahaha poor people! I heard people keep getting mugged everyday over there! HA HA HA
hahaha.. poor people! You guys need a school where they only teach some Tameez! Insensitive paindoo you.
Karachi Girls.. Tauba Tauba. Beri tez hoti hain!
Tez? You probably mean they enchant men before you can and that too majority of Karachi girls? But you’re Bi yourself! Or is swinging both ways going slow for you? Please climb back under the rock you live in.
Karachi boys to faarigh hotay hain!
Aap ko nahi miltay to jealous na ho!
Hamari “BURyani” jaise buryani aap ne khai hai pehle?
Shuker hai nahi khai! Karachi biryani can easily blow off this oily pullao into nothingness!
Uff… itna Ganda sheher hai KARACHII!!
What is it that you guys say? “Fittay moun?”
Islamabad ka tou koi muqabla hai he nahi Karachi se!
Ho bhi kaise? ;)
And a lot more that I can’t recall. As is apparent, this paindooness was hurled at me without me asking for any kind of comparison between their home and mine. Karachi is not a city, its every Karachiite’s “home” and you gotta be a king of paindooness to not even realize that much! Karachi’s that top model that puts every lesser model into a complex and then to overcompensate for that vigor and life they lack, they bleat (no, bellow) about Karachi. To all those people who say shit like this: Keep shitting Air!
P.S. “Paindoo” does not refer to a specific ethnic group, it’s a state of mind!
