Season’s greetings and a heppy new year, meray aziz humwatno. Let’s just celibate the good things in life and forget about the judges and the generals for a little while.
I was educated at St Anthony’s School in Lahore. It was wonderful. In my day, all the intelligent buoys went to St Anthony’s and the dumb khandani types went to Aitchison College. My school gave me lasting respect for Christian community and their services to Pakistan, particularly in education.
I read all about Moses and the Ten Condiments, about Santa and the ten Elvis. About how the Three Wise Men brought gold, myrrh and Frankenstein for the baby Jesus. Just before the Christmas holidays, our teacher used to ask, “looking forward to Santa and the reindeer?” and I used to reply, “no, looking forward to Santa and the snow, dear”. I mussay, I used to envy Santa – a big, fat, well-fed, jolly sort of guy who only worked one day a year.
Ahh! Those were the days! Back then, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer hadn’t been replaced by the latest GPS sleigh-guiding app. Back then, Lapland was not a gentlemen’s club. Back then, dreaming of white Christmas was not a racist act. And in those days Santa Claus didn’t crash into chimneys with his sleigh and reindeers because he was busy texting. Back then it was unthinkable that Santa would be in the dock in sexual harassment trial with lawyer aggressively shotting at him: “I’LL ASK YOU AGAIN! DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT LOOK AT MY CLIENT, AND IN A CROWDED SHOPPING MALL, IN FRONT OF HER CHILDREN AND ALL ONLOOKERS, CALL HER NOT ONCE, NOT TWICE BUT THREE TIMES … A ‘HO’?”
Any the ways, those were the days! Nowadays, we can’t even celibate it properly in this Land of Pure. Still, I decided that I must sand some Christmas cards. In fect, I sent only one, and that was to the supreme adjudicators who disqualify me, with a sweet message: “I am sanding Santa Claus. I hope you get Claustrophobia. Merry Kissmyass”.
NS
I was educated at St Anthony’s School in Lahore. It was wonderful. In my day, all the intelligent buoys went to St Anthony’s and the dumb khandani types went to Aitchison College. My school gave me lasting respect for Christian community and their services to Pakistan, particularly in education.
I read all about Moses and the Ten Condiments, about Santa and the ten Elvis. About how the Three Wise Men brought gold, myrrh and Frankenstein for the baby Jesus. Just before the Christmas holidays, our teacher used to ask, “looking forward to Santa and the reindeer?” and I used to reply, “no, looking forward to Santa and the snow, dear”. I mussay, I used to envy Santa – a big, fat, well-fed, jolly sort of guy who only worked one day a year.
Ahh! Those were the days! Back then, Rudolph the red nosed reindeer hadn’t been replaced by the latest GPS sleigh-guiding app. Back then, Lapland was not a gentlemen’s club. Back then, dreaming of white Christmas was not a racist act. And in those days Santa Claus didn’t crash into chimneys with his sleigh and reindeers because he was busy texting. Back then it was unthinkable that Santa would be in the dock in sexual harassment trial with lawyer aggressively shotting at him: “I’LL ASK YOU AGAIN! DID YOU OR DID YOU NOT LOOK AT MY CLIENT, AND IN A CROWDED SHOPPING MALL, IN FRONT OF HER CHILDREN AND ALL ONLOOKERS, CALL HER NOT ONCE, NOT TWICE BUT THREE TIMES … A ‘HO’?”
Any the ways, those were the days! Nowadays, we can’t even celibate it properly in this Land of Pure. Still, I decided that I must sand some Christmas cards. In fect, I sent only one, and that was to the supreme adjudicators who disqualify me, with a sweet message: “I am sanding Santa Claus. I hope you get Claustrophobia. Merry Kissmyass”.
NS