Archive for Work
Day 10,256 – Monday – 22 Asvina 1930 – 13 Shawwal 1429 – 13 October 2008
So, me and AH had a playful fistfight, hair pulling, punching, kicking match in the elevator the other day. What I dont understand is why the other people in the elevator being being so irritable. I hate prudes.
Oh, and yes, if you have a goatee or some other form of interesting mustache and beard combo. Keep it. It is so fucking hot.
Day 10,212 – Saturday – 08 Bhadra 1930 – 26 Shaban 1429 – 30 August 2008
Yes, chaos. That is exactly what I experienced last night when I went out for food with my family. Coming from a middle class background and having lived on a civil servant’s salary we have all learnt to live sparingly. Food was something one ate at home. Except on very few occasions when one ate at a restaurant, with fresh napkins, and the forceful yet unrelenting resort to etiquette. I always used to think of restaurants as what heaven would be like. I have learnt that I was obviously wrong. Very wrong. Anyone who has been to Bar b que tonite will agree that if Heaven is anything similar to it then God is obviously having fun at our expense. I only hope that he is not. As usual, I have started to ramble, I shall return to the topic.
Due to these particular circumstances my family has no idea of how to behave in a restaurant. For starters there is not idea of how to give an order to the waiter. What you do is that once the waiter has arrived then anyone on the table who has not decided yet will ask the waiter to return in “five minutes”. If you are at any kind of a reasonable restaurant the waiter will come after five minutes; otherwise after much gesturing, shouting, poking, eye rolling and making obscene gestures you would be able to avail the services of a not-so-high-tip-getting-waiter. Once the waiter is at the table someone, anyone, anywhere, on the table will start to give his / her order. You will tell the waiter about your order for soup, main course, dessert and drinks along with any particulars for each item of food. Then you will become quiet. The ordering will go either clockwise or anticlockwise depending on who on the right or left of the first order starts to speak first, or louder. At the end of the order the person paying for the food, or the general leader of the group based on social situation or group structure will order appetizers. And that is it. Then the waiter will go.
There should be no excessive confusion on what to order. Unless there are dietary issues it does not matter if you have Mayo in your sandwich or not. There should be no interruption of other orders, the “Please make my steak medium well done” is not an adorable thing. Rather, when you say it, I want to poke my fork in your nose and see you bleed to death because I am giving my order now, and I will not be forced to live a life of miserable food because you could not make your brain work long or hard enough for it to churn out your choice of food from a menu which actually helped you select what you wanted to eat. That was incredibly vicious and virulent. I guess the old Jalal is coming back.
Actually, saying that this whole restaurant order thing if my family issue would be wrong. It is representative of Pakistanis’ lack of clarity of thought and ability to do simply tasks without adding a lot of confusion and excessive ignorance, interruptions and stupidity to the process. Something that I have grown to love. The social conduct of a Pakistani group is always an amazing experience. Usually from a distance.
So there it was. In other news, my cufflinks broke. They just clean broke off and I had to walk about my office with my sleeves all rolled up. Get so very turned on by guys who have their sleeves rolled up and their tie loosened. So hot!
Day 10,116 – Monday – 05 Jyaistha 1930 – 20 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 26 May 2008
Life has been all about juices lately. Creative, Orange and love.
I had decided that I will change things about my life. I will do things I have not done. I will do things that challenge me. Not like my fucking work, which can be done properly by a monkey, after a bottle of whiskey, or three. I wanted to learn a foreign language and learn to either sing or play an instrument. As per the rules of my life. Mr Jalaluddin had to be absolutely confused about everything and every element of life. It took me one year to decide amongst French, Persian, Turkish and Italian. I agree this list is very strange and knowing me as an absolutely psycho should not have even allowed you to ask the question of why this list is wierd. I decided that I will go for French. The reason? My friend joined the classes and dragged me to them as well. Not at all as exciting a reason as anyone can hope for. Definitely not as exciting as hot French men daubed in Azure paint running naked at the language training centre. If only!
I also wanted to learn either to sing or to play the Guitar, Drums or the Tabla. Again, as per the rules of engagement, one of my friends told me to “Grow the fuck up and learn to sing”. Of course that was simply because he wanted to play the Guitar and wanted to play music with me without having to share his Guitar. But, all in all, in the end. I get to sing. Yay! Jalal, you are an absolutely stupendous idiot. Oh shut up!
The Creative juices have started to flow.
As part of my overall strategy to improve my life, and my health. And to ensure that I do not turn into an overgrown fat hag that is bitter and does not get any sex at all, I have started to change my diet and exercise. The only change in my diet is that now I eat as many fruits as I can get my hands on, so all other items of food have gotten reduced in quantity now. And I exercise by going for a walk/jog for forty minutes a day. It is doing me good. So, as per this new development I have had the opportunity to taste fruits and fruit juices all over the city. I am absolutely in love with fresh fruit juices. Just a random example will the the Orange juice at Dunkin Donuts, it is extremely frothy, but is amazing.
The Orange juices are amazing.
And now, to the most, wicked, cruel and absolutely naughty detail. Now, first of all, any or all of you, who do not want to know sexually explicit or disgusting details, please avert your eyes, because I promise this is not a pretty sight. The rest of you, enjoy to your heart’s content, because I feel absolutely ecstatic in bringing this information to day. Today, I had semen on my shirt. It was mine. A tiny mishap during my morning routine. I didnt realize it before I got into my car. Then I knew. I got so excited by the sheer vulgarity and perversion of the action that I spent the whole day extremely over excited and hyper productive at work. I was at least twice as productive as I am usually. I am such a slut!
The love juices are flowing as well!
Oh, and yes, I am absolutely in love with Mark Wahlberg.
Day 10,106 – Friday – 26 Vaisakh 1930 – 10 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 – 16 May 2008
If stupidity were Gold my office would be glittering. But, one manages to live with idiots. And enjoy them all the same. Of course when you are making fun of someone with a stright face, it just makes things so beautiful.
And, things are also made beautiful when it is your friend’s brithday. You tell them you are not having cake because of your diet, and your resolve to find good sex, and they dont listen to you. Two of your colleagues grab you and your arms. And the birthday girl, who I hate for now, crams an extra large piece of creamy, soft, melty, delicious, chocolate cake into my face. From that moment onwards, I love chocolate cake. And I love my friend for force feeding me. Of course, the fact that in the action half of it fell on my tie and my incredibly ugly shirt does leave a lot to be desired. So, walking around the office with chocolate cake splotches on my shirt is definitely not something anyone reading this should try.
Oh, and yes, if this does happen to you, and someone mentions it, please, please, please, do not tell them to “You can lick it off if you want to, I can take my shirt off to help you out”. Because then she/he can always slap you.
I tried both, using this on a guy and a girl, same reaction.
Oh and yes, I forgot to post the rules of engagment on the back seat of my car. As you all know, if I know you, then I can drive you around Karachi as you engage in any level of activities in the back seat of my car. That was a given. But, I should have posted the rules for this. The rules are,
Day 10,070 – Thursday – 21 Chaitra 1930 – 03 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 10 April 2008
Today can easily be described as a comedy of small and large errors of a non sinister fashion with a dash of incidents that have no effect whatsoever on the comedy of errors.
I got a raise at work. Something like 30%. Which means that not nearly good enough for me to be happy about it. And to think that I still behave like a loyal employee to this organization.
I went for an interview at another organization. I was called up by their HR two weeks ago. The interview went very well. They liked me and called me for another interview with the regional chief in Dubai. That went very well as well. Then four days ago, I get a call from someone in the HR department offering me a job that I had already said in the first interview that I will not be interested in. My belief in the lack of general rudimentary intelligence floundered on the shores of stupidity and idioticness. And they offer me a lower salary than I wanted. Well and good. I said no right there on the phone. Then the next day, I get a call from the HR head, he is offering me the same position and increasing the salary by a small amount. Wow. Wrong again. I do not want a dead end processing job where I can not add any value whatsoever to the organization and in doing so loose my credibility as a capable professional. So I said no. Then, today, they called me over for another meeting. I was expecting they would offer me another position. But, guess what, no no, guess what, no no, guess what, I am not telling you this, you need to guess this, because this is indeed so interesting. Well, they offered me the same position again. And told me that I dont have to reply immediately and that I have to give a reply tomorrow. So, basically, I am going to say no to them. If anything, this episode has further strengthened my resolve to hate stupid and evil people.
And then, me and my friend at work, who are both on a special diet of her design, had lunch together. I was trying to break the tikka piece, and it broke, but I got sprayed with the masala. And since nothing could be done. I had to spend the rest of my day with a huge spray of Tikka Masala on my shirt. Argh! If I werent known as wierd at my place of work, I would definitely not have been able to get away with this.
And of course, I met Doctor Sahab again. He came with a friend of his. Nice guy. Interesting evening. And, for general information, the Shawarma at Damascus is not all that good. And, again, for the same purpose of general information, the Chocolate Silk Pie at Arizone Grill is quite good. Worth the money, to say the least.
Sunday – 16 Safar 1429 – 05 Phalgun 1929 – 24 February 2008
My belief in the existence of a supreme being, lovingly called God from now on, has been strengthened in the past couple of days. I have suddenly been put through a set of extremely varied experiences since Friday morning. I am sure this God person wants to show me ways to love what he has created. If only he worked this hard to get me sex with Mark Wahlberg, I am sure my belief in him would be awakened beyond all previous records.
So, I go to work on Friday. Over excited about how things are working out, doing my mental calculations. And then a sand storm hit the city, and wham, I am in the loo coughing, sneezing and feeling miserable. My boss thinks I am trying to avoid work. And, I am trying to tell him that he can get a clue from my red eyes and the fact that I have tears dripping from my chin that there is something wrong with me. No, you idiots, slow brained cows, I was not crying, I got a fucking eye infection. I hate infections of all kinds. Though I do like the odd cold, makes me feel sexy. Perverted; but sexy.
Then comes Saturday, I go on an interesting date, the guy does NOT like me. He does NOT like me at all. AT ALL. I am sure you all see the excessive capitalization. I liked him. But, he DEFINITELY did not like me.
So, to get over that, I went to a book store. My old nemesis. I have to decide on a small amount, and then try not to exceed ten times that figure. But, this time I really did go overboard, and bought books worth about 23% of my take home salary and about 16% of my total salary. Crazy, weird, insane? Yes please, with an added dollop or fat free creme. And this is exactly why I have to take someone else along with me when I go shopping. I would max out my card buying stupid cup holders when I know I dont need them.
I think ill just put up a huge sign on my office table “Therapy needed here”. Because, as of now, I dont feel anything else can define me so well.
And then, I went crabbing at night. Amazing experience. The whole family went. And of course, eating at least 25 crabs and 25 shrimp is not a general human’s idea of fun, but when you have practically frozen solid because of the full blast cold freeing winds the only thing you can think of is eating. Eating to your heart’s content.
Ugghhhhhhh. I think I need to sleep today!
Sunday – 09 Safar 1429 – 28 Magha 1929 – 17 February 2008
Well, the recent writers block has been violently overturned due to personal, official and political developments.
After the sad demise of my extremely disfunctional and painful engagement, I have been free to partake of the bounties of the world. Despite the psychosis, depression, hyperexcitement, body image issues, obesity and of course the abject fear of meeting complete strangers who might end up killing or looting me I have managed to garner a reasonable love life for myself. Let us not jump any guns. I am not romantically inclined towards anyone right now. Though I have managed to get one or two dates a week for the past one month. And of course, that is quite exciting to start off with. So, I am back in the game.
Gentlemen – Send your applications at my email address. The ability to communicate in human languages, a good sense of humour and of course being sexually attractive will definitely be a plus.
Ladies – If you are of the homosexual inclination and want nothing more than to marry a man who will understand you and has been voted the best-husband-to-be by a group of seven women please send your applications at my email address. A good sense of humour, a proper education and of course the ability to bear offspring who will beat off all the other competitors and hunt the largest prey will be a plus.
On the official front, I was recently sent on a Pan Pakistan training, fact finding and team building tour. Hyderabad, Quetta, Multan, Faisalabad, Lahore, Sialkot, Islamabad and Peshawar. After four flights and seven bus rides over a period of two weeks I have ended up meeting about two hundred colleagues from across the length and breadth of the country. It went very well, I saw more of Pakistan in a two week period than I could ever have in such a short time span. The eve of elections, the sexually charged winters and the mad dash to the next station all added to the overall excitement of an endeavour as insane as I am as a person. After this sentence I can see my English teacher standing behind my shoulders with a cane in her hand. “Propositions, preposition!, PREPOSITION!!!, use them, and stop writing like a dawdly”. I have no idea what a “dawdly” is, but I do not want to be one. I digress, the trip went well. All work and no play.
But, alive to my reputation of having dirty eyes, I present to you a ranking of men from cities across Pakistan, using the following factors – masculinity, beauty, wit, humour, finesse, class and of course added weightage for the first two purely physical factors. Please keep this handy, you will never in your whole life come across a list as interesting as this. Or the previous one, where I counted how much traffic passes in front of the City Court in the evening by hour.
1 – Karachi
2 – Islamabad
3 – Peshawar
4 – Lahore
5 – Quetta
6 – Sialkot
7 – Faisalabad
8 – Hyderabad
9 – Multan
Or course visiting nearly the whole country right before the elections has made me fairly clear about how the election will turn out.