Prejudicial Weekend

Monday – 22 Ziqaad 1428 – 12 Agrahayana 1929 – 03 December 2007 

It is a truth well established that all respectable and able human beings will delve into the deepest depths of bigotry and personal prejudices on any available opportunity. I must add, I too adore bigotry, prejudices and general rage against other humans. If not that then at least it makes life and boring weekends a lot more worthwhile than usual. My most favourite is an Urdu term that is (تعصب) which would translate to something like very strong and deeprooted bigotry.

This weekend like so many others before it came with the usual fear of having to spend inordinately long periods of time without any major human company as I have been used to. Working in an office which is forever at the brink of mass chaos and supports a life faster than that for which humans have developed over eons I can not spend time alone. Something has to be there to punctuate each and every one of my waking moments. Unfortunately weekends present a problem. So, I prefer to spend time doing too many things and end up having weekends that are more stressful than working weekdays. Good.

So, the weekend was going fine on Saturday. Little did I know that it would get turned into a hell fest with a big ugly woman beating me with leather tongs. Remember I am gay. Being beated by an ugly woman is not my idea of hot fiery love.

I went to a family function, and one of my relatives forgets the way to the place. In a moment of divine retribution they call me for directions. The first thing I am told is that they have just taken a left on a major landmark. What the fuck is that supposed to mean. There are four fucking roads, and there is a left on every fucking one of them. And then they tell me stuff like, “we dont know which road we are on, but we are passing house no 73/1”. All the nerves and veins in my brain popped. I could hear them. Some people present said that they felt that a scream has emanated from the depths of the earth and destroyed the eternal aura worn by our planet, the mother earth. I hate idiots. And telling people how to navigate in a city when they have no fucking idea how to do it can lead one to poke their fingers into their nostrils and hope that their brain will get punctured and they will die immediately and not face the conversation any more.

As if that wasnt enough, I got late for my friend NA’s wedding. Idiot. He had gotten a facial or something and hence was glowing like a light bulb. Idiot. I mean, it is ok to do it a bit, but there are limits. If you are glowing brightly enough to blind your guests and other creatures like bats and dolphins then please get yourself checked up. And to think that I had a crush on him till Friday.

Then on Sunday, we all had to go for a Dance Practice / Dholki at a friend’s. I am such a bad dancer. Actually this time it was actually acknowledged by everyone that I am a bad dancer. I feel much better now that everyone knows this. Yes, I know, even my shrink agrees that I have issues that he can not help me with and I need to work on then, and if my English teacher were here she would definitely have an issue with the length and structure of this sentence, but basically fuck off and bite me and call me Judy while you spank me red and blue.

And to top it all off, I have learnt why I hate Canada. It is where fucking MUH (a friend of mine) is from. So, that is what is actually wrong with Canada. Eh!

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1 Comment»

  PsycheD wrote @

:D aahh…so that was the ‘high’ thingi you were anticipating. yaar dance practices at dholkis are fun!!!


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