Of Legends, Maestros, Drunks and Idiots...

The Express Tribune blogs have been filling up a number of free and lazy moments for me during this endless summer. Most of the blogs written don't do much for me, some make me laugh, some are hard hitting, and some are plain old rubbish. But, far be it from me to insist (as some do) that some of those bloggers stop blogging. Writing is after all, writing, and dialogue is important. The ET blogs provide a good enough platform. As always though, I draw the line at nonsense.

You knew that was coming didn't you?

Blog dated June 12, by a member of Karachi's Catholic community, paying tribute to one of 'Pakistan's Portuguese wonders', Ralph D'Aranjo. The blogger begins by mentioning the Portuguese people's contribution to the early music industry??? in Pakistan.

OK, first of all, what is up with the overuse of the word Portuguese? We have always been known as Goans, and yes some of us are of Portuguese descent, many are not, so let's not get carried away shall we? Besides, plenty of the Anglo-Indians in Pakistan also contributed to the music scene in this country. And, so did the Punjabi Christians, such as the famous Benjamin Sisters.

The comments which followed the post were both interesting, annoying, severely mooching, and one or two downright nasty, as one male decided to create a ruckus about the blogger's relationship with the 'honored' one's daughter, and let fly with a rant reaching epic proportions. I mean come ON... If you mention Misquita Blocks, then I don't know what to say to you. And, there were mostly all Christians commenting, with a couple of courtesy comments from non-Christians, which to be honest was like being blasted into those days of yore, when we all attended a Christmas dance at the Karachi Goan Association, and took a couple of our Muslim friends along, even though the tickets clearly stated "For members and their Christian guests only' - Um and you thought minorities were not capable of discrimination? Ha!

OK, back to all these musicians with magical fingers. The 'maestros', the 'legends', the 'chosen ones.' I remember the stories well, from my parents, neighbors, etc. Of how the night life in Karachi was so great back in the day. Of course, I grew up in happy, happy Zia-ul-Haq time, so our night life was mostly a 'Get indoors before 9 O'clock curfew.' But, the Christian musicians were around still. They were at every freakin wedding, dance and hotel lobby in the city. Some were great musicians, truly remarkable. They played, they taught music, they  entertained, and then many of them left the country, and now all those great, not so great, and the downright idiotic, reminisce about their glory days on Facebook pages dedicated to them. OK, maybe one Facebook page, which calls them all legends or some such nonsense.

But, a good number of them? Drunks!

And, I worked long enough in the hotel industry to know that first hand. Hell, I grew up in the Christian community, and was no stranger to weddings since my early childhood, and enough dances in my teenage and beyond, to know that a lot of these so called 'masteros' were nothing more than slobbering drunks, who played and sang off key (mostly because they were drunk) to crowds within their own community, who were 1. Little kids who didn't know more than 'drums are for banging' 2. Teenagers, who just wanted to fucking dance to anything that sounded like Boy George or Dire Straits and 3. Middle aged to senior people who were also mostly very drunk (hey Dad! ;)), and happy to jive to oldies music. Not that a lot of them needed the music. If there was a dance floor, they'd make their own music. Yes, a lot of them were just that good... Credit to many of them who remain so. As were some of those greats from bands like The Black Jacks, The Key Notes, The Visions, etc. (Can you tell I grew up in the 80's?).

But, the bullshit of that whole blog got to me. It really did. Not so much because it was about one man, who to his credit is the last of the old musical dinosaurs, but that it implied something about people from a community, who were for the most part anything but great. One other person in the comments section really got my attention. At the end of his comment he said these guys are better off playing in some restaurant hotel, living quietly because that is all they can afford to do while their social and family life falls apart. 

Why do the honest voices remain a minority in everything?

And, I wanted to respond with 'That's what most of them do now.' In fact, many of them never left those hotel lobbies. Sure, a few went on to do good things, but if you walk into one of those hotels tonight, you'll see them there still. Old men, ragged by the booze, and desperately trying to hold on to either a mic or a guitar. 

A people of considerable talent, but many of them lacking in ambition, and drive.

It is nice to sometimes hear of the days gone by, but it is equally important to look at the here and now. I see young and upcoming musicians, both within the Christian community, and outside it, and these same 'greats' pay them no heed. And yet, we have idiots glorifying the old fuddies, and the old fuddies lapping up the adoration without more than a passing thought to the younger generation. These poor young souls will excitedly post links and info to their next 'big' performance at BRC's Open Mic Night, and what not, but will anyone care? 

No, they won't. 

And, they're good! Some could be great. The have talent, they have drive, and they want to be something.

No, but let's just keep walking ass backwards down memory lane, and making stuff up as we go along. Let's glorify idiots who held a bottle of QDL in one hand, and a mic in the other. Let's not give a crap for the next generation. Let's not cheer them on, hold them up as examples, promote them, maybe even glorify a few of the deserving ones. No, instead, let's work really hard to embellish a history, and keep it on record. 

Cheers!

The Only Good That Comes Out of Pakistan, is Slims

I have a childhood friend, who lives in the U.S. who is one of the most pro-Pakistani people I know. Having left Karachi in her teens, she and her family made it to the states, and settled down in Florida. Now, a working mother of two gorgeous children, she is a self-made, strong and independent woman. And, she never forgets where she comes from, and what she really is. A Pakistani. Born, raised and proud of her roots.

It's getting more and more rare to spot these kinds of people. Not that I blame many who prefer to distance themselves from Pakistan, what with our current state of affairs, and hogwash. Not to mention former Pakistanis in the west, looking to avoid hate crimes, just because of who they are. But, bullshit? That comes out in the form of some Pakistani Americans, ranting and hurling abuse against a nation they were born in.

This same friend, proudly posted a link on her Facebook page, about Mir Zafar Ali, a local kid, who is now an Oscar winning, Visual Effects Specialist in the U.S. - She was immediately assaulted by a former Pakistani who commented with "One out of what billion? The only good that comes out of Pakistan is Slims."

How quickly can you say 'douchebag'? 

This idiot claims to not be proud of being Pakistani. I feel he should address the fact that he is a pessimist, and seek out therapy. There is a LOT of crap going on in Pakistan, tons of it. And, those of us living here know it better than anyone else. But, let's set a few things straight shall we?

• The nation as a whole did not hide OBL in their neighborhoods.
• Many, many Pakistanis have never even been to Abbotabad
• And, while we're at it, it's Abbot-ah-baadh, not Abbot-abid
• No, we are not heading to the beach everyday, to see if we can spot OBL's remains. And, not because some American has already beat us to it.
• There is no shrine to OBL near our seafront. I promise.

Now, back to the idiot (although, I'm really calling him 'dickhead' in my mind).

As my friend pointed out to him, he is probably wearing clothing with 'Made in Pakistan' tags on. Or, he could be wearing 'Made in USA' tags, which were really just printed here in good old Pakiland. And, I'm betting he uses a good slathering of Fair & Lovely everyday, just so he can maybe turn white at some point, and feel he is truly American. He chooses to remain ignorant to the fact, that many Pakistani Americans are successful in their chosen fields, be it medicine, politics, engineering and yes, even crime.

Not forgetting to mention how he ends up labeling himself, and his entire family as "nothing good" because you know, they have literally come out of Pakistan.

So, the question is, how are we any different from anyone else?

We're not. Except that maybe we're currently bleeding a lot more than most people.

Pakistanis abroad, and Western Pakistanis here. I have a message for you (not all of you, just the douche bags amongst you).

For the ones who left, and can't stop bitching. Read that again... You left. You tried here, and you failed, or maybe you didn't try at all, so you ended up trying somewhere else. And, maybe that minimum wage job is giving your ego a little boost right now, but not enough to make you feel more special than the Oscar winning dude.  However, you should know, that no matter where you go in that vast land of the free, you are, and always will remain just another Pakistani, to those who you probably grovel before. 

For the ones who came back here. If you're not trying to make a difference, not making the sacrifices (and I don't mean a 'I-just-took-one-vacation-this-year'  or "I-only-have-two-power-generators-not-four-so-I-am-making-the-ultimate-sacrifice" sacrifice.), get off your high horse, STFU with your bitching about this country, and grow up. There are people far, far worse off than you are. And, really... If you are going to insist on calling us "third world" you leave me no choice but to call you 'third class.'

This country may not be perfect, in fact, it's crazy right now. But, there are people who live here, work here, raise their families here. And, they're not all bad people. So, please, enough with the bullshit.

P.S. While writing this, I decided I should maybe one day write about Pakistanis in the west, who every day set an example of what the 'good Pakistani' is all about. The ones who hold fast to their culture, their traditions, their homeland. I'm sure there are numerous stories out there, that should be told.

Great Balls of Fire!

Discussing fires yesterday, with a group of friends, I realized we don't really consider fire too much of a threat here in Pakistan. I'm sure, in Karachi people have some kind of fire escape plan, should their houses ever catch on fire. Calling the fire department, would be last on their lists of course. I remember years ago, working at a local hotel, which decided to excessively conduct a series of fire drills one year. Some of us were selected to climb out of the fifth floor (big ass hotel floors folks, not your average residential building floors), and then fight our way down a canvas chute, attached to a fire truck. I signed up, took the elevator up, climbed out of the balcony, started down the chute, then remembered I'm claustrophobic. Of course, the two firefighters there to assist us, thought I was mental. I climbed back out, jumped back into the balcony, and watched the firefighter light a cigarette, before I went off in search of a drink.

Should there be a fire in the apartment building we live in, I have an escape plan in mind. We live on the 1st floor, so instead of running down stairs, while the building burns, and people stampede, I think it would be easier to tie the kids in sheets, and lower them over the balcony. The Huz, would need to climb down first, which is fine, because he can climb up and down sewerage pipes easily (at least he used to over a decade ago, when footballs, and tennis balls needed retrieving). I see a great future for him in the U.S. as a firefighter, should we ever move there. And of course, if that happens, I will be a fire-fighter's wife, and expect everyone to thank me for my husband's service. Oh wait... wrong service.

As you can see, fire is not scary in Pakistan. In fact, we love fire over here, more than we love to hate our cricket team... At least that's what it's been like in the last decade. BOOM goes a market, then everything catches fire, and people gleefully jump over burning carts, and flaming fruit stalls to rescue old men and women, who were only there for a bargain. OK, maybe not gleeeeefully, but man can they jump.

Then, of course there are the groups who hate "blasphemers", and burn down their residences, villages, churches, and parts of their towns,  After, which the media will film the burning for hours, while people watch, and young children learn why their city is called the "City of Lights" and/or 'The most violent city in the world.' 

As you can see, no panic. We're a fearless bunch.

Tyre burning is another great local sport. Fuel prices go up, power outages become unbearable, "rival groups burned tyres on Tuesday? It's our turn now." It doesn't matter. People find their excuse, and take to the streets, yanking tyres off vehicles, drenching them in petrol and setting them ablaze on main roads. Other people abandon their cars, and run around looking for more tyres, to throw on the massive fires all around them. Most go home, because watching endless re-runs of it on the news, while sipping chai at a local Dhaba, or alternatively, updating Facebook with "OMG I was just THERE" is more appealing.

One lonely tyre... Not for long.

Bus burning. Well, because buses are just so goddamned badass, and big, and look so scary when set ablaze. Why not? And, easily accessible too, these buses, since they can always be found on the streets, shuttling working people back and forth, so you know, they can maybe earn a living, and feed their small children.

Looks gorgeous in print doesn't it?

  

Flag burning. No excuse needed, it's yet another fiery national sport, sponsored by people who clearly manufacture international flags, and have lots of 'Not fit for export' ones to spare. India, Israel, The Netherlands, Sweden, were this decades favorites, OK, OK, the Indian flag has always been a favorite.... coming in second, only to Israel. Until recently that is. Then came the American flag... And, the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave? Nonsense! Ah, it remains the most sought after flag to burn. Even though there seems to be an endless supply of it available, at any given impromptu flag burning ceremony. If you've burned an American flag, you're a hero.

But please, keep giving us visas, and aid for Sesame Street productions.

Coming in last, but certainly not the least. The effigy. One cannot begin to describe the passion and emotion behind the burning of an effigy in Pakistan. We've burned so many over the years, created so many remarkable likenesses from George W. and the Pope, to members of our national cricket team  The effigy, without doubt, is our true love.

Dude, why are you beating it?

All this talk of fire has made me hungry. Think I'll fire up the grill tonight.

Stuff and Nonsense

Spur of the moment plans, to meet up for coffee is something I rarely do. But, meeting this one particular friend was important, well, because I don't see her enough. She's a fellow mom of twins, almost always short on time and energy, so our plans to "meet up" rarely progress further than text messages promising it'll happen "soon," while we attempt to juggle kids, work schedules, kid activities, nonsense and more nonsense.

So, there I was, sometime last week (I've forgotten which day... Like I said, too much nonsense) at *drum roll* Butlers Chocolate Cafe, waiting for my friend to arrive. I put in the drum roll, because in Karachi, one must always do that, before one mentions places such as Butlers, where all the "cool" people hang out.

When I entered, I immediately felt the waiter was trying to usher me out, He sort of gestured to the door behind me, his eyes signaling something to the cashier. Then, having realized I hadn't stumbled upon the cafe by mistake, attempted to guide me to a table in the far back. I pretended he didn't exist, and grabbed the nearest table much to his annoyance. He mumbled something about "being more comfortable" and I snapped. So, I froze him with my best don't fuck with me, because I'm a bigger bitch than your mother look, because hey, I didn't work in a swanky hotel for nearly ten years without learning crap like that.

He held my chair for me, then dutifully brought me a menu, and discreetly looked down my top. 

I ordered a coffee, which had some sophisticated name, with the word 'cappuccino' attached to it.  Extremely comfortable in my old, old jeans, some type of kurti I grabbed out of the closet an hour before, hair freshly washed, but not blow dried, and my  favorite worn out flat sandals, smoking my cigarette (nasty habit I know)... I began texting with my brother-in-law, about how Butlers is just a regular roadside cafe everywhere else, but in Karachi the waiters will treat you like shit, if your clothes are not designer labeled. 

Two "ladies" seated at the next table, kept shooting me looks of disgust, one kept wrinkling her nose everytime I exhaled smoke, (she was also wrinkling her nose before I lit up, and I promise I showered that morning). She pointedly asked the waiter to remove the ashtray from her table, then went back to pretending the cafe did not have a 'non-smoking section' on the other side, so she could remain seated at the corner window booth, with a clear view of the entrance. Must not miss the chance to see if fellow hair-sprayed to death acquaintances, put in an appearance, so we can wave french manicured fingers at each other, and air kiss over everyone's heads.

I visit such places for blog fodder as well.

And, yes in Pakistan, we still have smoking sections in our restaurants.

Then, there was this woman sitting with her friends, directly across from me, just staring. I rubbed my nose. She stared some more. I lit up another cigarette, and felt a hiss behind me. Turning slightly, all ready to suggest the non-smoking section, I caught them both glaring at me. I glared right back, while trying hard not to imagine, what one of those faces would look like minus the botox, and obvious eye lifts. It didn't work, so I smirked, and could swear I heard the words "low class" muttered as I turned back to see the waiter standing near me, asking yet again if I would be dining alone.

It's a sin to dine alone at Butlers.

If you're not armed with an iPad.

My friend finally arrived, looking very much the mom who stayed up all night with a sick kid, struggled through fusses at breakfast, wrestled three kids into a car, drove them to their schools, and finally stopped for a break, before heading off into an over-scheduled day. 

She had definitely not changed her clothes, there were visible 'sick child' signs on her t-shirt, tired lines around her eyes, and an exhausted smile on her face. The waiter stared at her in disbelief, and later kept shooting her looks, which told of the unimaginable physical pain she caused him, with her audacity of showing up "un-polished."

I was tempted to rip the silver, tribal design earring, right off his left lobe.

And, feed it to botox lips behind us.

The food was good, the coffee was great. This post is really just (yet another) pointless one... Because, I'm in a kind of pointless mood.

Tired of being a Pakistani

After recent events in Pakistan, where yet another life is taken, yet another voice is silenced, we realize we're not so much back at square one, but that we never moved from there at all. 

I'm tired of the blame games, the finger pointing, the defense of dogma, the useless rants of liberals, the silence of moderates, and the fanaticism running rampant in this nation. The bloodshed. The despair. I am tired of people jumping up to defend their religion, after every tragedy. As if that makes all the difference. It does not. 

I'm tired of the dependency on scripture and Holy Books, as if they are the only source of moral codes for what is right and wrong. They are not.

I am tired of searching for hope in all the madness, tired of those who have stopped searching for it, and so tired of those who hold on to it, preach about it, offer prayers for it, then sit back and live in it with comfort, and a solid dose of denial.

I am tired of shielding my children from the news, tired of attempting to explain to them why it's not safe to go here, or there. So very tired of words like "terrorists" "assassination" "serfs" "elite" "fatwa" "minorities." "Shia, Sunni, Ahmedi, Christian, Hindu, religion, rights, law, repeal...  Blasphemy."

 

I'm tired of news channels, and their panels of 'experts' engaging in so called discourse, with some borderline hard core extremist, hell bent on defending bloodshed. I am tired of people taking to the streets, and burning flags of nations they could not find on a map, setting ablaze vehicles of hardworking individuals, destroying public property, as if it is their duty to stand up for themselves in such a barbaric manner.

I am tired of no longer reacting in shock, when I hear of tragedies.

I am tired of watching news clips of bomb sites, in all their gruesome glory, and only feeling grateful it wasn't me, or my loved ones who perished.

I'm tired of the poverty, and the power hungry who prey on the poor. I am tired of those who can do something about it, but do not. I'm tired of people telling me to 'get out' if I don't like it, and just as tired of people telling me to 'stay and fight' so we can have peace. 

I'm tired of constantly being confronted with the fact, that the only way to achieve peace is to fight for it.

I am very, very tired of being a Pakistani.

But, I cannot be anything else.

A Class Above

So children, the topic today is classism and the elitist mindset. I don't even know where to begin, because there is an endless field of crap I'd have to wade through to find out where it all began in the first place. So, in my typical style of not really giving a rat's ass about history, and why this is this, and that is that, I'll just jump right into the middle of it all and point out the bullshit I see around me.

Right now, we're living in a nation which is rapidly approaching hell's fire. People are dying, thousands are suffering the after effects of the floods, the fanatics are getting more fanatical, target killings are an everyday occurrence, people are scared, people are resigned, people are leaving the country, and some people are tweeting about Meher Bokhari being a fundi bitch, and Veena Malik is telling all the mullahs to back the fuck off.

But, it's important for some to remind themselves, and others of who they are, and what they come from. How they sit far above the rest, and either tut tut at those they see as beneath them, or do what they can to exploit, abuse, and ridicule them.

An otherwise pretty entertaining blogger, was the straw, that broke this camel's back. Why? Because, he's privileged enough to have attended the best fucking school in the whole nation.

BEST! 

The one where everyone retains their place if they have "perseverance, excellence, and a dash of style." according to the blogger.

Notice no mention of daddy's bank balance, and feudal background.

Or mommy's social standing in some big shit, fuck-the-people-this-is-about-luncheons charity organization, where they spend more money on organizing their annual dinner/dance, than they do helping the poor in a decade.

So, in essence having the one school in Pakistan, where it is imperative to be the best academically just so you can retain your seat, is actually a good thing.

How?

How is it good? Wouldn't it be better if it was one of the best? (Calm down Patricians, this is not about you... not in this post anyway) And, there were many more like it? Maybe in every district? You know just so that ALL the kids in this country had the chance to strive?  Or maybe even had a chance at education without it having to be a money making business? Hey, how about every school retaining good academic standards?

Or, are poor kids living in slums, going to public schools, going to low fee private schools, going to crap ass schools, all a bunch of idiots?

Maybe they're just not worthy.

Because, if some kid off the street was given admission in KGS, how would his parents afford the fees? How would they pay for his college tuition in North America? OMG would they send their child to school on a public bus? Or worse, on foot?

Never! Privileged kids should never see that kind of stuff. It may make them aware of *gasp* poverty!

Or the middle class.

Academic standards, my ass!

They take in the best, from the richest (or those who do a good job of pretending to be rich) and retain their "high standards." It's common knowledge, and it's disgraceful to see it being lauded over everyone else, by some very naive people, who prefer to live in denial.

This is not about whether KGS is the best school or not, because it's a great school. 

But, seriously former students of KGS (some of you) and other elitists schools. Get off your steeds. If you were fortunate enough to get the education you got, do something more than just lauding it over others.

Like I said to the blogger in his comments section. One need not elevate themselves/put others down to take pride in what they come from.

These are the kind of people, who continue to help this nation remain in the sorry state it is in. I can't say that enough. Because, hey enjoy their comforts, and status too much. They have to be the best, have the best, and keep the best for themselves. And, the only way they can do that, is if they keep everyone else down. Whether they realize they're doing so, or not.

But, it's nothing to be proud of.

P.S. Home of the Snapping Turtle (link in my blog roll) is an otherwise pretty entertaining blog. Just because I disagree with the blogger today, is no reason why I shouldn't promote the little brat.

Mad, Mad World

A few days into the new year, and Pakistan was shaken with yet another mindless incident, where a governor was gunned down by his own security guard for being "guilty" of standing up for minorities. 26 bullets were pumped into the governor by his assassin, who then grinning from ear to ear turned himself over to the police.

And, then all hell broke loose.

Clerics rejoiced, the masses danced, while moderates wept... And, the liberals tried to stop opening and closing their mouths like goldfish, suddenly jerked out of a crystal bowl, on a Queen Anne table.

The Christians crossed themselves several times, and gave masses.

Twitter was all abuzz, and so was Facebook... With fanatical MBAs defending the security guard, and lauding him as a hero. Old people tweeted about their sadness, and were ignored, moderates indulged in embarrassing displays of damage control, and some liberals recovered fast enough to hammer out tweets of disgust with a vengeance which was startling. There was much gnashing of teeth, and use of the word "Jaahil." 

The Indians had the time of their lives throwing fuel on an already blazing fire, Americans ignored the danger of fundamentalists in their own country, and slammed Islam, I don't know who told the people of France , that tweeting to the Pakistani public in French would be a good idea, but it happened, and got even more confusing. Then, not to be outdone, the atheists grabbed the opportunity to repeatedly declare religion a menace.

The world had gone insane.

Several days later, the madness still blazed on, as thousands took to the streets to protest an amendment to the nation's blasphemy laws. Of course, the PM is still bouncing around on TV, trying in vain to assure the rightists that no laws will be amended. Moderates are calling for peace through dialogue, and much quoting of scripture, and liberals are determined to be heard via blogs, Facebook status updates, and tweets hash tagging Pakistan, in what seems to be a contest to keep our country on Twitter's Top 10 Trends. They have suggested everything from banning Madrassas, to designating an island for maulanas and their minions, somewhere in the East Indies. After decades of standing by, watching their country being raped, simply because it benefited most of their capitalist mindsets, they have found their voice.

Bravo Liberals!

Safe to say that most liberals in the country belong to the upper classes?

Who have neglected to take responsibility for the state of this nation for too long. And, here is their payback, biting them hard in the ass. Poverty is a nasty word, and it belongs to the masses here in Pakistan. No one else wanted it, and everyone distanced themselves from it. Except the fanatical clerics, who knew a good thing when they saw it. Christians have done it for 2000 years, and who doesn't borrow from the Christians right?

So they (the clerics) opened their religious schools, fed poor children, probably housed their families, while the upper classes turned a blind eye and went shopping. Are they really surprised as to whom the masses have pledged their allegiance to? Are they really that stupid, as to NOW be blaming fanatical clerics, when they've been a thorn in our side for decades? Do they really have the right to call this nation "Jaahil" when they've done little or nothing to change things for the better? 

Did they pay taxes?

Did they fight for education reform?

Did they fight for childrens rights?

Employees rights?

Human rights?

What are they ranting about? 

We are as much responsible for the state of this country, as the fanatics are.

All of us.

Condemning the Poor - A Sense of Privilege

Over the course of the last week, two incidents occurred on Facebook. Simple status updates, and sharing of links relating to the poor, and working class of this nation, led to comments by some people, which nearly drove me up the wall. According to some (who incidentally belong to the upper class society) 90% of our nation's people are lazy, blood sucking, stab-you-in-the-back individuals, looking for a free meal, and a free life."

These comments were directed at the class of people who for the most part:

1. Work for below minimum wage

2. Are laborers, maids, sweepers, factory workers, cooks, drivers, tailors etc.

3. Are uneducated

4. Are dirt poor

5. Receive little or no benefits from their employers

6. Cannot afford healthcare

7. Cannot afford to educate their children

8. Often cannot afford to feed their children

9. Have almost no rights in the workplace

10. Are treated as inferior beings

Because, they are prisoners of birth.

So, let me tell you how much some of the other 10% contribute to this country.

1. They own their own businesses

2. They employ laborers, maids, sweepers, factory workers, cooks, drivers, tailors etc.

3. They are educated

4. They are rich

5. They will never be poor, as long as they have the poor working for them

6. They can afford healthcare, and anything else they desire

7. Can afford to send their kids to private schools, where most remain average or below average students

8. Can afford to let their kids waste an entire McDonald's meal after eating one french fry.... Daily.

9. Have every right anywhere they go, because they abide by no law except their own

10. Demand respect and often to be treated as royalty

But, let's not leave it at just 10...

11. They don't care that their private businesses do not follow labor laws, and that their staff is paid below minimum wage.

12. Their maids, cooks and drivers can usually be found working 14-15 straight days with a day off after said days are complete. These same maids and drivers, are on call 24/7 and often go without a day off for months at a time, because things would fall apart if they left.

13. They are incapable of opening a car door themselves, but think nothing of their 7 year old servant boy mopping their 14 room houses.

14. They consider a cheap cotton jora gift to their staff, and or 200 rupees for Eid as "taking care of them as if they were our own family."

15 They're not opposed to loaning their staff money, for their medical needs, but will deduct it from their pittance of a salary "to teach them some responsibility."

16. After they do that, they'll spend the day shopping for that perfect outfit which costs 20,000 rupees.

17. They will lie if they have to, to protect their businesses, and gain credibility.

19. They expect and demand a life time of gratitude for their "generosity" in granting the poor employment.

20. And, they will constantly moan about how those same people are so lazy, and always ready to stab them in the back.

It is difficult to not be outraged.

It is difficult to not want to bitch slap them from here to hell.

It is very difficult to fight them while exercising respect and calm.

I admire the people who do it. They have the patience of saints. 

Never Turn 30 - In Just 7 Days!

Recently, my Facebook notifications page has been flooded with requests from friends, asking me to join the new Ponds, Never Turn 30 fan page. Out of complete curiosity, and not once thinking that maybe Ponds invented a new face cream which can turn back the clock for the past 30 crowd, I clicked on the link. Over 20,000 fans, (and I'm betting so many of them are over 30, including most of my friends who sent me the request to join in the first place.) What's wrong with this picture?

Absolutely nothing! Because, in this good old land of the pure, we expect (see: demand) that 1) Our women look eternally youthful. 2) Maintain a "fair" complexion. And, most recently 3) Never turn 30.

I can't say this any other way, but how it always sounds in my head... Are you fucking kidding me? From the whole wide world of advertising slogans to create for their anti-ageing skin cream (which btw they promise works in just 7 days), they go with "Never Turn 30." So, dear Ponds, WTF?

With Fair & Lovely continuing to do a booming business in Pakistan, brides to be going bat shit crazy trying to lighten their skin for their new husbands (and, mother hen-laws), the Sunday Dawn newspaper's "Matrimonial" section requesting "pretty", "fair", or "light complexion" girls for their "Smart, handsome, tall, U.S. Green Card holder" sons (another rant, another blog post) and numerous concoctions of "fairness" inducing creams, either homemade or available at salons across the country, there is my friends something very, very wrong with our society. 

And, much as I love him, Shahrukh Khan is an ass for promoting "Fair and Handsome" for men.

I want a fair daughter-in-law.

Her kids are so cute because she married a gora.

The younger sister is so much prettier (because her skin is several shades lighter than the other one).

Did you go to the beach? OMG you've become so black.

What does he see in her? She's so dark!

Common phrases heard around town.

And, while we're at it, let's not turn 30. I mean, I can't do that since I'm over 30 anyway, but if I were a 20 something, I'd want to not turn 30 so bad, I'd apply the new  Ponds anti-ageing face cream, dress my wrists in crystal bracelets, and dance naked around burning mint leaves, for seven straight days, praying to the gods to strike me dead when I hit 29.

We are a fickle bunch of women if this is the kind of BS we depend on to define ourselves. We are setting a horrible example for our daughters, if we insist that youthful skin is paramount to our success, be it in securing a job or a husband (I almost vomited while typing that, because I'm allergic to the "securing husband" business as well). 

The feminist in me is spitting tacks over this 30 = Over the hill nonsense, and so is the spa loving, high heel shoes adoring, herbal facials (for purely relaxation purposes) obsessed woman in me.

I've never seen a smiling face that was not beautiful.  ~Author Unknown

Gather Christians!

Do I really want to go down this path?

Oh yes I do!

And, why?

No reason, just sitting here on a Saturday afternoon while my brood, well OK two cannot be a brood, but saying 'my pair' could cause those twisted minds to think I'm referring to my..... feet. So, while my twins (do I hear applause from fellow "blessed because we're special" twin mamas?) are probably enjoying their last afternoon with electricity at their grandma's place. After Phet hits us tonight, we know there won't be power, we know KESC will take it all very personally and probably not restore power for a week, we know Karachi will be flooded beyond belief, and we know the poor and homeless will be dying out there, while we sit and lament about no electricity and internet. Our phones will die and OMG it'll be like experiencing another Facebook ban! How will we survive?

Who cares? This post is about Christianity.

Oh no it isn't.

Oh yes, it bloody well is.

Well, to be fair it's about Catholics in Karachi.

So, if all denominations would like to join in and read, please take your places as if in heaven, and pretend you're the only ones with the True Word. And, Catholics please don't scramble for the front row seats... I know you have the basilica and all that expensive art, but there's no need to be snotty about it.

Are you getting your children ready to receive their First Holy Communion in a few years? Is the question I've been getting asked by a lot of people lately.

No, we're Satan worshipers!

Kidding fundies, please don't burn me at the stake.

Well, I really haven't thought about it. OK I have. Once. I mean which Christian raised (in Karachi) woman in her right mind would not think of her child's FHC? Where shall we have the reception? Will the guest list exceed 500 people? Who will design and make my daughter's first time virginal white dress? Will my family in the U.S/Canada/London/UAE offer to send us the flowers and candles? Must rush off to Khori Garden to check for just the right ceramic figurines for the giveaways. Who's the best cake maker? And speaking of cakes, there simply must be a centerpiece above it waiting to rain down confetti, when the cake is cut and champagne is popped, while drum rolls and cymbal songs crash out of the over sized speakers set up in strategic locations around the Sheraton's Darbar ballroom. Open bar? But, of course! That's a tradition we can never forgo on.... Our grandfathers would haunt us from their graves if we did.

Just in case you're wondering, I really am discussing First Holy Communions in the Catholic community of Karachi, not weddings. Note, I said 'Not weddings."

The season is nearly upon us now as a few hundred parents around Karachi are busy spending all of their summer, preparing for the FHCs in the fall. I've ordered my daughter's dress from ETC Collections, one over zealous mother informed me smugly a couple of weeks ago. The dresses are expensive this year, starting at around Rs. 15,000 and reaching nearly 25,000 or more.

Insert classic jaw-drops-to-the-floor moment, or in my world the typical OMGWTF-is-she-talking-about? moment.

Oh Trevor! (as in the Trevor Castellino, creator, designer, and overall head honcho of ETC Collections). How far you've come!

But, where are we going?

And, when I say 'we', I really mean they (as in them). Because, no way in all the raging fires of Satan's lair would I pay that much for a dress for my daughter's FHC, a time might I add, when she's supposed to be receiving the... ahem body of Christ for the first time.

Ballrooms? Really? To celebrate a spiritual sacrament of the church by a child who barely understands what is going on?

*Roars of disapproval from the front row Catholics.*

Of course they understand!!!!! They're all of nine years old! They understand what it means to accept Christ into their hearts, through a wafer on the tongue. They get it and you're a cynical bitch!

You bet your ass I am.

But, it doesn't take away from the fact that little Melissa has no frickin clue what she's doing. None, nada. Because, what she really cares about (and you Khi Catholics know I'm right) is that she'll be all pretty in gauzy white that day, with a wreath of flowers on her head, and low heeled, white patent leather dancing shoes on her feet. She's also counting the gift money btw, and will inwardly curse at Aunty Josephine and others like her, who gift pretty pink rosaries and prayer books. Although not as much as her mother does about her shocking pink banarasi sari and six inch high golden slippers, for the mass... For the reception it'll be form fitting, red silk, with courtesy plunging neckline and stilettos

Where's daddy?

On the phone with the booze supplier.

Where will daddy be on that day?

Looking uncomfortable in a three piece suit at the church, and sweating profusely. And, later at the reception, simultaneously guarding and guzzling the booze.

Our Father, who art in heaven

What kind of a father have you given me here on earth?

Where was I going with this?

Right! Am I getting my children ready for this? I guess the answer for me at the moment is, a resounding no.

No, I am not getting my kids ready to receive their FHC, no I do not want to join this particular herd of "must have confetti" and "My daughter's dress is more expensive than yours neener neener" bullshit crowd. I'm naturally competitive yes, but never at the expense of my kids.

I still have a few years to decide, and my decision will be based on whether I consider it the right time for my kids spiritually or not. Not silk and fluff.

Break the bullshit tradition... That's what I do.

So Catholics.... Lay off!