Archive for July, 2007

Normalcy

Sunday – 13 Rajab 1428 – 07 Sravana 1929 – 29 July 2007

So, it turns out that when I get quite drunk on Friday nights and I come home late at about 4 ish and I call my sisters on their cell phones to wake them up to open the door and they do not answer or open the door for more than ten minutes then I will have to start using the very large flower pot with the strange ugly palm tree situated at the end of the parking area as a urinal even though it might be disgusting or perverted or not upto the general standards of public hygiene prevalent in our society it was an excessively relieving experience unsurpassed by any in the recent past. And, good God that was a long sentence.

What is wrong with me?

And, when you are sitting on the net at about 0321 hours; which in itself is a scary and worrying thought, but moving on; and you have to go through the following conversation with an old friend who you haven’t been in contact with lately (OFWYHBICWL),
OFWYHBICWL – Hey man! Do you make tea?
Me – Yes I do. Is this really about the tea of are you falling in love with me? (by the way, he is straight, but I act like this with most people from my college, so moving on)
OFWYHBICWL – How many teaspoons for one cup of tea?
Me – One full heaped Table Spoon.
OFWYHBICWL – For one cup? No way. That’s too much.
Me – Yes, yes. By the way, is this Chai or English Tea?
OFWYHBICWL – Chai.
Me – Yes. Then its ok.
OFWYHBICWL – Thanks.
Me – Don’t mention it.
10 minutes later
Me – Fuck! No! Wait! I meant teaspoon.
OFWYHBICWL – Ah, that’s much better.
Me – Yes, but please use a heaped tea spoon.
OFWYHBICWL – Thanks.
Me – Don’t mention it.
My Internal monologue – Please love me.
Note – OFWYHBICWL if you are reading this, don’t fucking say anything!

What the fuck is wrong with me?

And then to top all this off I get a call for a wrong number of my cell phone. Somehow we ended up talking to each other. Actually I know how, but I can’t tell you guys. And, we ended up talking to each other for four hours. I know about all the problems she is having with her boyfriend and I seem to have given her some advice about how men operate. In turn she knows that I am gay, that is the only way I could get out of having to sleep with her. And she knows about what is going on in my life. And she agrees that it is indeed difficult for gay people in Pakistan to fully express their inner feelings and desires. I think we are friends now because we have started to exchange sms. So, I seek out seriously disturbed people and then unload all of my psychosis on them. Wow.

I mean, fuck, fuck, duck, you are crazier than a baboon jumping on a purple ball in the main hall of the Moulin Rouge.

Notice the second person in the previous sentence. The multiple personality disorder seems to be jumping right out of the page.

I feel like I need to overdose on tea, hyperventilate, and laugh like a fucking hyena for the rest of the day to calm myself down.

Oo behave!

Please excuse me while I go menstruate

Advertisements

Connections

Saturday – 12 Rajab 1428 – 06 Sravana 1929 – 28 July 2007

Just had an interesting week full of excitement, madness and abject horror. An average week in the life of a 20 something Karachiite working with evil managers, living with insane compatriots and moving through cohorts of people to meet and mingle with. Despite the usual sexual deprivation and the feeling of a general conspiracy and ever impending doom life seems to move on slowly and gradually towards some result that I have no idea about. Scary you say? I agree.

I have started working with a new colleague recently imported from Lahore. And he has to work with me. Evil gleeful grins. As most of you know I am quite insane and I make no efforts at hiding it. So, within one week I open up to him and discuss things which he tells me I am not supposed to talk about near girls, or I will never find anyone to share my life with. Yeah, right, as if that was possible to start off with anyways. Oh and yes, just to prove that I am not the only insane person, rather, it is the cache of my work place, he likes to call himself Cherry Poppins. Supercalifragifuckinglisticexpialifuckingdocious et al. I really do not think that I am having a bad effect on him. Oh well!

Oh, and in other news, I have started to become better friends with strange-depressive-yet-good-looking-lady-going-out-with-my-friend-and-is-also-a-friend-through-so-many-common-friends. People would abbreviate this to SDYGLLGOWMFAIAAFTSMCF, but they would be wrong. Of course. I would prefer to use SR. Thankfully. But, I told SR that I think she uses too much makeup and tries to make up for the fact that since she is so pre occupied with things that she just doesn’t interact with people. Of course she glared at me. And then she slapped me as soon as we got out of the coffee shop. And that led to a one hour screaming argument in her car. We are very good friends now.

And yes, the abject horror in my life is due to my arranged marriage plans and our trip to Islamabadto meet the girl’s family two weeks from now. I think I am freaking out so much that most of the nerves in my brain have popped. Indeed. Quite interesting. Loss of gray matter aside, I really don’t have any gay friends to discuss this with. Difficult and horrifying indeed.

Oh, and yes, before I leave. I just absolutely adore and love mangoes.

Reply

Friday – 04 Rajab 1428 – 30 Asadha 1929 – 20 July 2007
This post is kind of in reply to a comment by someone I don’t really know all that well.

Firstly, after reading your comment I am making a policy change. After this post all new posts will be checked for spelling and or grammatical errors or mistakes once. I had an ongoing policy that I will write the post and no words are to be deleted, checked or re read. I write and then I publish. But, I am sure that after the knaw incident I will start reading my complete posts once, after this one of course.

Secondly, I think I need to have your blog address to be actually able to check your blog and I think an email address would be even better since then I can communicate with you easily. And I think that if you are in Pakistan we should also meet up as soon as possible as I can explain my very visible lapse to you personally.

Thirdly, I try to avoid topics like politics and religion because they do not lead to anything, at least in a Pakistani scenario. But, since I am asked, I think the Red Mosque brigade was a bunch of terrorists. But, I am against all forms and formats of violence, I would have preferred if the issue was resolved through mediation and talks. And I dont believe in violence, since violence only breeds violence and an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. In a country like Pakistan we can not afford to light even one spark as the whole nation is a tinderbox with so many complexities and issues that even we here do not understand.

But all in all, yes, we are a violent nation, yes, we are a passionate nation, yes, we are a nation that shows irresponsibility. But that is us, and that is how every other nation has been at this same stage in their lives. Which nation can show me a clean slate of history clean of wars and civil conflicts and corruption and mass illiteracy and poverty? Noone can, because everyone went though the process that we are going through now. We are unique, and so will our process be. The birthing process of a nation can not be without pain. So is ours. There is bound to be violence, to lead to a national mental and social development where we realize that violence is wrong. And where we learn how to discuss, how to debate, how to end and resolve issues that we do not agree on. Where we learn right and wrong and how to view it

We will learn, grow and develop like every other nation. Slowly and gradually.

This is not only in the air, recently the government has been very strong on the media for sensationalism and showing scenes of excessive violence or racial hatred live on national television. And the nation responded with a debate. And the media carried it. And I am sure the media will back off from sensationalism to a certain extent. One thing learnt, one step taken, the nation moves forward. Forever. Every coming Pakistani will have this issue and its different arguments and the dialectical process in their minds as a part of the communal consience. One step forward.

The judicial crisis. Leading to mass debate. Most political parties, the judiciary and the general population saying that the Judiciary should be independent. The government and some political parties thought that the CJ has become overly politicized. We debated, we argued, we though, we contemplated. Now the Chief Justice has been reinstated. We have learnt and declared as a nation that our Judiciary will be free and independent. We have also learnt and and declared as a nation that the judiciary will not be politicized. One step. One very very very large step. We move forward.

Some might call me a sentimentalist, some might say that I am not a realist, some might call me overly nationalistic. But, I love my country and I love my nation and I love my city and I love my language. All a part of the larger fabric of Pakistan. I belong to it. I see everything in a positive light. I see only light at the end of the tunnel. The feeling and the emotion of connectedness is so strong that the possibility that there is no end to the tunnel just does not register with me. I only see hope, while there might be none, but I can not bring myelf not to see it.

There! this excessively long, probably completely confused and unclear post is your fault. Dont tell me to talk about politics or current affairs again!

Sick

Sunday – 29 Jamadi us Sani 1428 – 25 Asadha 1929 – 15 July 2007

Not as in perverted, or perverse, disgusting or horrifying. Sick as in carrying this fucking throat infection that is going around the city nowadays.

I hate being sick, I hate being sick, I hate being sick. Ok, sick, irritable, tantrum over, it is time for my anti biotics, anti histamines and pain relievers. I hate doctors as well.

If I were not as well slept as I am I would have started to knaw on wooden rods to keep my irritability and stress down.

Horror

Friday – 27 Jamadi us Sani 1428 – 23 Asadha 1929 – 13 July 2007

So, today, it is Friday the 13th. Which, in western traditions means a day of horror. And, for me it is the day when my father flies into Karachi to spend the weekend with us.

And the horror bit comes in where my life for the next three days when my father is here is like a train completely out of control and hurtling down a steep incline. That is covered with oil. With wind coming down the incline as well. You get the idea. I can see a lot of things happening over the next couple of days that I do not want to happen but I have no control over and will end up happeneing anyways.

My father has recently been to Islamabad to meet an old friend. Here he has actually ‘found’ a girl for me. His friends daughter. Who I know since we were kids. And who I am supposed to get married to since all the parents think it is a good idea. This seems to be the most opportune moment to scream loudly and rip apart my voice box.

It is also probably the day when my father and I have to discuss my homosexuality in the general context of how I need to start thinking about women because then I would naturally become straight and enjoy a good settled married life. Of course this reminds me of the time an idiot friend of mine showed me a Playboy just to make me straight. I hate stupid straight men. But, I have to live with them.

So basically I will have to come out to my father, who is a policemen and would definitely find the idea of a fruitcake son very very unacceptable and I will have to say yes to getting married.

And, finally, OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO GET MARRIED!

So, basically all men freak out when they think about marriage.

A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A A

Perversion

Thursday – 26 Jamadi us Sani 1428 – 22 Asadha 1929 – 12 July 2007

As opposed to my general belief that my preferred age range is actually 21+ I realized today that it is in reality 18+. I feel very perverted all of a sudden. Oh dear, this makes me so old manesque, running after boys. Oh God! This is disgusting!

Singapore

Tuesday – 24 Jamadi us Sani 1428 – 19 Asadha 1929 – 10 July 2007

Well, as if a self obsessed ego maniacal horny bastard like myself would not be talking about my trip to Singapore. Bah, Humbug!

So, the highlights include the fact that I was quite turned on by one of my colleagues over there and sparks flew, mine due to lust, and his due to homophobia. I am so stupid. Of course the problem was resolved amicably by my acting like a complete asshole and him thinking that maybe I am not gay but just extremely ill mannered. Honour is saved and respect is lost. Oh well!

Since alcoholic beverages are illegal in Pakistan I got an opportunity where I had only alcoholic beverages for a period of twenty nine days. I did not have plain water, I did not have Coke, I did not have any non alcoholic drinks for twenty nine days. This excludes the occasional drink of water when you wake up in the middle of the night and are about to die, pending liquids being poured down your throat.

And then there was this time when I ate twenty eight chicken wings at Hooters. I am disgusting! I mean, come on, it is only food, it is not love. There is no need to crave it so much and then gorge on it like no tomorrow. I mean, dude get over it! Stop acting like the dustbin that gets all the leftovers. I think I will feel very ashamed now!

Oh, and to top all this off, things at work are going very well. I am going to be transferred into another very interesting department, good team, good work and completely edible bois. Wish me luck and self control and the ability to spend my time in my current job without destroying every shred of respect that I have. Amen!

Oh, and in case you did not know, Mango Milk Shakes are just so seriously fucking delicious that I could have one every hour of the day. Pakistanis and Mangoes, strange psychological dependencies.