Posts Tagged ‘Pakistan’


Off Topic

November 18, 2011

“If you want to go over 3000 hits W, you have to write about stuff other than your measly little life”, exclaimed a friend of mine. We no longer speak by the way. He thinks too much of himself. And has great hair. And big round eyes. Anyways, back to the topic. Since I got a lot of free time these days, I thought I’ll give it a shot. I am pretty sure I will get truckloads of fan mail or at least the usual 4-5 comments telling me, begging me, to bring my original style of writing back so here goes nothing:

I didn’t like Rockstar. 98% of the reviews I read on facebook said it was the best things they ever saw. And not just movie wise, the best thing ever to have happened to them. I mean better than Krispy Kreme , Café Clifton chai, Karachi Broast, Captain Saleem’s lollipops & Sunshine Kulfi combined. Something must be terribly wrong with me and most of the critics in India.

For starters, isn’t a rock star supposed to sing rock songs? I have to admit. Sadda Haq was a good one. No one has to agree with me, but for me, other than Ranbir’s acting, I couldn’t find anything captivating in the film. Where were the ‘moments’ we saw in Zindagi na mile gee, Delhi Belly, Brother ki Dulhan…hell even Ra one.

So Ranbir breaks in into a married woman’s house in a foreign country and gets arrested and gets his ass thrown in jail. And that’s the sole reason for his massive popularity overnight? It would have made sense if he had thrown a shoe at Bush Jr. or maybe said anything remotely in tune with ‘Sadda Haq’. See his character was never rebellious or fighting authority. He didn’t want to change the world. He was just a fool in love. Also, it seemed like they put in the dargah sequence just so that they could fit in the qawali. As he didn’t actually pick anything up from there did he? And maybe Farhan Akhter or his dad should have written the boring long ass speech he gave in the middle of a daytime concert.

I’m assuming this was the writer’s pitch to the studio: A not so good singer falls in love. She gets married to someone else for no particular reason and then falls sick. Ranbir sings a few hindi movie style songs at his concerts and after a while, the heroine dies. The End.

“Write about something other than myself..other than myself”. Shit this is difficult. Ok, I know. I will now make a political statement: I like Imran Khan.

What else is going on? Abhishek and Aishwariya had a daughter. Mein kya karoon?  I’m only waiting for the grand piano Katrina will be gifting to Ali Zafar so that I could perform the same kala jadu he did on her will and make him gift it to me. Don’t tell anyone but I have plans to sell it back to Katrina and make some serious dough. Btw, this kala jadu shit really works. And for only Rs. 300/- after taxes. The Saas Bahu packages are worth looking at but the one I’ve been impatiently waiting is the begum special.

Ah, Fashion Week. How can Fashion Week, the biggest event in Pakistan affecting all 18 crore people from top to bottom, left to right be ignored? Here is an in-depth critical analysis on the last one:

Fashion Week took place. Again. Models walked the ramp. Again. And walked back inside. Again. The End.

Since I was 7 (ok 3), I have been wondering where these models are coming from and where do they go when they go back into that darwaza type cheez. Is there like a fountain of beauty running backstage popping up these beauties one by one landing them directly to the door to the ramp wrapped in expensive clothing? Do they jump back into the fountain once they are done and nobody gets to see them again till the next fashion show? Once I manned up and was about to sneak in backstage and the only bald Rockstar we have caught me, “Kidher ja riha hai puttar. Utthay ja apne bewee de kol”. I don’t speak to him much either. He is bad bald man. Cause he walked in himself conveniently.

Which bring me to Music. Faakhir’s song Allah Karay, Allah Karay ke hit ho jayay. As it’s a genuinely good song and Mahnoor looks stunning as usual. Allah karay ke…ok I’ll stop here.

Sports: Burn the Arrrashee wa Murtashees or they will start playing good cricket for our country again. And that is something we as a nation, cannot tolerate.

If you didn’t quite like the review and critical analysis of the most important things affecting the citizens of Pakistan, please send the most deadliest of viruses to


Page 3…4,5,6,7,8,9 & 10

March 7, 2011

Today, I saw one of those page 3 type magazines.  There were 2 famous people in it. Who are the rest?

I see a guy with a shaved chest and first four shirt buttons open (there are 5 in total). I see a Polo match. Seriously? A Polo match?? I see pictures from an event titled, Bonanza ‘Designer’ series. I hope to see every single celebrity at the Lux Style Awards next year wearing their Bonanza’s. I think Mercury underwear and vests just had a heart attack. I see a man child celebrating his birthday with other manchilds. They don’t need to be in a magazine, they need to get laid. Flipping through the lawn pages, I see a print ad. Weren’t these extinct? Ok I take back my question. Don’t need another lecture from one of my buddies in the print business. Back to the ad. It’s an ad for a Diamond company and the tag line say’s ,“Buy her a diamond, before someone else does”. Aayein? Marketing 101 was different when I was a student. I know ‘Scare the consumer into action” works for toothpaste and deodorants but Diamonds?? How about being a little more frank like, “Spend more on the b%@#h than your mistress you asshole”.

The above article is in no way ridiculing these magazines or their contributors. I think if anything, they should be applauded for shedding light on the much deserving, un-discovered, un-celebrated, un-rated, (I mean underrated) socialites in this country and more importantly, for showing us all how bad we really look on weekends.


Back to the Future

December 31, 2010

25 years ago, I swear I thought I’d see flying cars in 2011. That’s right not 2010, but exactly 2011. What I see instead is uglier versions of Honda Civics, Corollas and those Pijaro type vehicles. I had thought by now, I would have travelled back to the future (I mean the past) at least a couple of times and chilled with my younger, cooler parents and helped them hook up. I had thought Pakistan would be an Asian tiger and cheetah printed clothes would be back in Fashion. I had hoped by 2011, Green would be the new Blue or Red and Pakistanis won’t require a visa to travel to the furthest of destinations, like Afghanistan. I knew for a fact that Michael Jackson would be the president of the United States and Billy Jean would be his first lady…and that he would finally admit that ‘he was the one’. I had hoped we’d be better friends with India and all their actresses would be crawling over me, considering how handsome I was supposed to turn out. I was supposed to look like that guy from Miami Vice, instead I turned out like Rahat Fateh Ali Khan. I had envisioned that Imran Khan would be casted as James Bond and ‘Chawkka naheen Chakka’ would replace ‘Shaken not Stirred’. I wanted Minar-e-Pakistan to be the world’s tallest Disco with floors on every level playing different genres of music, including folk. Yes, we called them Discos at that time. I had designed a rough sketch of what my house would look like and who all will live in it. I am not sure why it has drawings of so many bunnies all over it. I wanted to invent something. But someone recently told me about this new fad called the Internet that seems pretty close to my idea. Darn it! Guess I’ll have to go back to my other top secret invention. Don’t tell anyone but I think I might have found a way to heat food without putting it on a choola. I had envisioned Pakistani politicians to mature up and not make fun of each other’s hair anymore. I knew in my heart that PIA would have hot stewardesses in the future. I had an idea that the CIA and ISI will merge and be called CSI (Miami, New York or Gwadar). I had dreamt a million times about my kids saying ‘Thank you Baba for bringing us up in this absolutely safe, secure, un-corrupted, un-polluted, non-superficial, non-hypocrite and magical place called Pakistan instead of taking us to England, America or Canada’.

Well, can’t win ‘em all I guess.