Ufff! It must be living with Janoo that’s made me conscience of all these horrible things happening here and abroad. As he says, it’s open season on gay people and women. Meaning kay all the maddies and baddies have unleashed their woilence. First that mother burnt her daughter for doing a love marriage. Burnt to a cinder. Then another family hacked their daughter and husband for same. Then that terrible murder of so many innocents in Orlando…. kya ho gaya hai dunya ko?
For the first time, I have to admit kay Janoo’s right. “There’s a madness abroad,” he says. Abroad? Where? London? Dubai? Bangkok? As far as I’m concerned, only these places qualify as abroad. Madness is not in abroad. It’s here. In countries and people who call themselves Islamic.
I’m so depress and so depress, kay don’t even ask. This Ramzan, I’ve decided that instead of just opening people’s fasts, I’m also going to give a big donation to a girls’ school. Hopefully when they’re educated and have jobs then the girls will give tight slap to zalims who do cruelties.
After giving donation, I’m going to London. Sales-shales will be on. Anyway, I’ve told Janoo that sales or no sales, aik Bottega Vanetta is must. Four-five thou ka to ho ga. Pounds, na. Janoo recoiled in shock, “Four to five THOUSAND POUNDS?! What’s it made of? Gold?”
“It’s a bag”, I explained slowly as if to a child, “a bag made of leather. Or PURRSSE as your mother would call it!” He still wasn’t satisfied. “What does it look like?” he asked. “Uff, forget that,” I said huffily, “everyone has one, or two, or three. Except for me”. “I don’t understand you”, he said wearily, “one minute you’re talking about donations to girls’ schools, next minute you’re on about some ridiculously expensive bag …”
“I’M ALSO A HUMAN BEING, OK?!!” I shouted, “I ALSO HAVE SOME BASIC NEEDS! AND HUMAN RIGHTS!”
“Ya right”, Janoo said, under his breath, “like clean drinking water, health and eduation …”
For the first time, I have to admit kay Janoo’s right. “There’s a madness abroad,” he says. Abroad? Where? London? Dubai? Bangkok? As far as I’m concerned, only these places qualify as abroad. Madness is not in abroad. It’s here. In countries and people who call themselves Islamic.
I’m so depress and so depress, kay don’t even ask. This Ramzan, I’ve decided that instead of just opening people’s fasts, I’m also going to give a big donation to a girls’ school. Hopefully when they’re educated and have jobs then the girls will give tight slap to zalims who do cruelties.
After giving donation, I’m going to London. Sales-shales will be on. Anyway, I’ve told Janoo that sales or no sales, aik Bottega Vanetta is must. Four-five thou ka to ho ga. Pounds, na. Janoo recoiled in shock, “Four to five THOUSAND POUNDS?! What’s it made of? Gold?”
“It’s a bag”, I explained slowly as if to a child, “a bag made of leather. Or PURRSSE as your mother would call it!” He still wasn’t satisfied. “What does it look like?” he asked. “Uff, forget that,” I said huffily, “everyone has one, or two, or three. Except for me”. “I don’t understand you”, he said wearily, “one minute you’re talking about donations to girls’ schools, next minute you’re on about some ridiculously expensive bag …”
“I’M ALSO A HUMAN BEING, OK?!!” I shouted, “I ALSO HAVE SOME BASIC NEEDS! AND HUMAN RIGHTS!”
“Ya right”, Janoo said, under his breath, “like clean drinking water, health and eduation …”