Saturday, June 21, 2008
Agressor's Anonymous
Over the years, I have become aware of a vast elaborate, highly planned and coordinated international conspiracy directed against myself. As is well known, we Pakistanis love conspiracies and nearly everything that happens in this country is attributed to either the CIA, RAW or the ISI, so most people would be skeptical about my claim. However, let me just let the facts speak. It all starts in the morning when I wake up. As soon as I enter the shower and soap myself, the water pressure suddenly tumbles to the point that the shower starts dribbling. Interestingly, the pressure recovers as soon as I give up. However, if I merely pretend to give up, it remains low. After much investigation, I have concluded that some kind of monitoring device in my bathroom is connected to the spillway on either the Mangla Dam or the Bagilar project that India is so keen to complete. As soon as I have soaped myself, someone opens the spillways causing a drop in pressure. In winters, an even more elaborate element is added to the plan. Although the water pressure still drops, enough of it remains to tempt me into the shower. However, as soon as I have adjusted the temperature to a comfortable level, the washing machine immediately switches on. In a cruel twist, it sucks in only the cold water thus scalding me. I have realized that the plan is actually to scald me when my eyes are covered with shampoo, however, this system has not been perfected. Nor does this stop here. After no doubt many years of experimentation, the masterminds of this plot have identified how long it takes a person with shampoo in their eyes to readjust the water temperature. And as soon as I have become comfortable again, the washing machine changes it's cycle, causing the water in my shower to suddenly reach freezing point. Incidentally, over the years we have changed washing machines several times, going through German, Japanese and now Chinese models. But apparently, all these countries are in on the plot, and so I continue to suffer. I can only conclude that this is a UN directed effort. I must say however that I am particularly disappointed that our Chinese friends should have joined this conspiracy. After my shower ordeal, other parts of the plan are brought into play. If I attempt to log on to check my e-mail, thousands of people immediately log on as well and start downloading large files, slowing the cable speed to a crawl. Again, I am stunned at the sheer expense and coordination of this effort to crush my sanity. Alternately, if I persist, or if I start doing some other work on the computer, a team of electrical engineers immediately interrupts the electricity at a critical point. I should mention by the way, that this team of saboteurs is highly mobile, because they manage this no matter which part of the city I happen to be in. Speaking of moving about the city, my leaving the house is the signal for a large team of highly skilled stunt drivers to leap into action. I say a large team, because even though they employ the same tactics, the faces of the agents are constantly changing. Let me now identify some of these tactics. First, there is the motorcycle-car combo. In this, the cyclist's job is to weave his motorcycle through the stopped traffic till he is in front of my car. When the light changes, he pretends to get going, but stalls his bike inches from my car leaving me trapped. He then spends the rest of the green light pretending to kick start it. In the meantime, the other member of his team honks non-stop behind me. In another version (and there are many more) two stunt drivers in Suzuki Fxs attempt unsuccessfully to overtake one another at 30km per hour, often with the stalled motorcycle stuntman in the third lane. And all the time, other members of the team keep me on edge by changing lanes or speeding and braking in a demented fashion. Until that is, I decide to escape home, at which point I am sure, Lahore's traffic flows smoothly and without incident. Needless to say, after all this I am in a nervous sweat and it's time to head to the shower again.
Made in Pakistan
Apparently the Japanese, not satisfied with their current reputation for weirdness, have invented a jacket with a built-in fan. Sooner or later, these jackets will make their way here, and I would like to predict some of the reactions that will take place.
Firstly, there will be a tremendous controversy over whether or not it is allowed to say one's prayers in these jackets. The religious consensus will be that it is not, as the flow of cool air over the body leads to seductive thoughts and sensations.
Second, a gold and diamond encrusted fan jacket will be impounded at customs and the government will claim it belongs to Asif Zardari, who will deny ownership. The jacket will be custom made for an anonymous buyer and will have a diamond studded monogram that says Asif luvs Bibi.
Third, a small factory in Gujranwala will invent a cheap version of the same jacket, but its battery will only last five minutes and will electrocute half of those wearing it as soon as they start to sweat. Every middle class house will buy the jackets along with a special storage cupboard with an in-built UPS recharger. However, the fad will soon wear off due to the fact that unlike the Japanese, no one will use or replace the deodorant stick provided along with the jacket.
There is no doubt about this nation's genius at indigenizing foreign imports. Everything that turns up here ends up looking very different. The neatest Mercedes truck, within six weeks of entry looks like a bride with full makeup and jewellery. The most tasteless, pork encrusted Chinese dish becomes sedately halal and wickedly spiced. Even the new multinational offices that appeared to have been designed and manufactured in San Diego, are slowly wilting in our damp climate.
When they first started, they were all chrome furniture, video screens and sharp suits. But of late I have noticed subtle changes, the video screens now only play cricket, there are scraps of waste paper and broken ball pens lying around. And finally, the unmistakable sign i.e., that nearly all of them have acquired a resident 'taki wala' who spends the whole day slowly pushing a wet rag around the room, taking a break after every five feet. This inevitability of change leads me to wonder how the new prime minister will appear once he starts becoming indigenous. But by the time our 'aab-o-hawa' is finished with changing him, I suspect he will not be able to use a cash machine at his former bank without setting off a fire alarm.
Somehow, I imagine him ending up somewhere between a Bedford truck and Schezuan Chicken dish i.e., heavily made up and spicy. Already, he has paraded his religious credentials, which is a good though obvious start.
I think that as a next step, he should start wearing a subtle line of surma under the eyes especially when appearing in parliament. Next he could borrow Fazalur Rehman's orange pugri and Karzai's ... well .. drape. I would not recommend he borrow anything from the Benazir wardrobe. The possibilities are endless and I am sure that the outcome will be a success. Of course, he will need to be careful because if he is too successful in becoming an indigenous prime minister, he will end up hung, in jail, or in exile in Saudi Arabia.
To end up, there is an old joke which shows that the talent for indigenizing is spread all over the sub-continent. It seems that at one point, American scientists invented a wire 100 times thinner than the human hair. Not to be outdone, Japanese scientists immediately invented a wire 100 times thinner than the American one.
A few weeks later, a Sardarji held a news conference at his motorcycle workshop near Amritsar and announced that he had outdone both parties. When asked for proof, he showed two extremely thin wires. Journalists objected that these were in fact American and Japanese wires. But the Sardarji produced a microscope and it turned out that though the wires were imported, he had managed to write 'made in India' on both of them.
Firstly, there will be a tremendous controversy over whether or not it is allowed to say one's prayers in these jackets. The religious consensus will be that it is not, as the flow of cool air over the body leads to seductive thoughts and sensations.
Second, a gold and diamond encrusted fan jacket will be impounded at customs and the government will claim it belongs to Asif Zardari, who will deny ownership. The jacket will be custom made for an anonymous buyer and will have a diamond studded monogram that says Asif luvs Bibi.
Third, a small factory in Gujranwala will invent a cheap version of the same jacket, but its battery will only last five minutes and will electrocute half of those wearing it as soon as they start to sweat. Every middle class house will buy the jackets along with a special storage cupboard with an in-built UPS recharger. However, the fad will soon wear off due to the fact that unlike the Japanese, no one will use or replace the deodorant stick provided along with the jacket.
There is no doubt about this nation's genius at indigenizing foreign imports. Everything that turns up here ends up looking very different. The neatest Mercedes truck, within six weeks of entry looks like a bride with full makeup and jewellery. The most tasteless, pork encrusted Chinese dish becomes sedately halal and wickedly spiced. Even the new multinational offices that appeared to have been designed and manufactured in San Diego, are slowly wilting in our damp climate.
When they first started, they were all chrome furniture, video screens and sharp suits. But of late I have noticed subtle changes, the video screens now only play cricket, there are scraps of waste paper and broken ball pens lying around. And finally, the unmistakable sign i.e., that nearly all of them have acquired a resident 'taki wala' who spends the whole day slowly pushing a wet rag around the room, taking a break after every five feet. This inevitability of change leads me to wonder how the new prime minister will appear once he starts becoming indigenous. But by the time our 'aab-o-hawa' is finished with changing him, I suspect he will not be able to use a cash machine at his former bank without setting off a fire alarm.
Somehow, I imagine him ending up somewhere between a Bedford truck and Schezuan Chicken dish i.e., heavily made up and spicy. Already, he has paraded his religious credentials, which is a good though obvious start.
I think that as a next step, he should start wearing a subtle line of surma under the eyes especially when appearing in parliament. Next he could borrow Fazalur Rehman's orange pugri and Karzai's ... well .. drape. I would not recommend he borrow anything from the Benazir wardrobe. The possibilities are endless and I am sure that the outcome will be a success. Of course, he will need to be careful because if he is too successful in becoming an indigenous prime minister, he will end up hung, in jail, or in exile in Saudi Arabia.
To end up, there is an old joke which shows that the talent for indigenizing is spread all over the sub-continent. It seems that at one point, American scientists invented a wire 100 times thinner than the human hair. Not to be outdone, Japanese scientists immediately invented a wire 100 times thinner than the American one.
A few weeks later, a Sardarji held a news conference at his motorcycle workshop near Amritsar and announced that he had outdone both parties. When asked for proof, he showed two extremely thin wires. Journalists objected that these were in fact American and Japanese wires. But the Sardarji produced a microscope and it turned out that though the wires were imported, he had managed to write 'made in India' on both of them.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Turkey v Germany
The Euro 2009 Semi Final will be between Germany and Turkey after a scrappy match turned into a thriller in the final minutes of extra time. Croatia went 1 up in the 119th minute thru a header with Turkey equalizing in the 120th minute.
The penalities turned put to be extremely one sided with Turkey winning 1-3. More to come but it surely has to be said that the dream run for the Turkish National Team continues...
The penalities turned put to be extremely one sided with Turkey winning 1-3. More to come but it surely has to be said that the dream run for the Turkish National Team continues...
Exam Possibilities...
1. Get a copy of the exam, run out screaming "Andre, Andre, I've got the secret documents!!"
2. Talk the entire way through the exam. Read questions aloud, debate your answers with yourself out loud. If asked to stop, yell out, "I'm SOOO sure that you can hear me thinking." Then start talking about what a jerk the instructor is.
3. Bring a Game Boy. Play with the volume at max level.
4. On the answer sheet find a new, interesting way to refuse to answer every question. For example: I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs. Be creative.
5. Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Breathe a sigh of relief. Go to the instructor, say "They've found me, I have to leave the country" and run off.
6. 15 min. into the exam, stand up, rip up all the papers into very small pieces, throw them into the air and yell out "Merry Christmas." If you're really daring, ask for another copy of the exam. Say you lost the first one. Repeat this process every 15 min.
7. Come into the exam wearing slippers, a bathrobe, a towel on your head, and nothing else.
8. Come down with a BAD case of Tourette's Syndrome during the exam. Be as vulgar as possible.
9. Bring things to throw at the instructor when s/he's not looking. Blame it on the person nearest to you.
10. As soon as the instructor hands you the exam, eat it.
11. Every 5 min. stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam.
12. Turn in the exam approx. 30 min. into it. As you walk out, start commenting on how easy it was.
13. Get the exam. 20 min into it, throw your papers down violently, scream out "Fuck this!" and walk out triumphantly.
14. Arrange a protest before the exam starts (ie. Threaten the instructor that whether or not everyone's done, they are all leaving after one hour to go drink.) 15. Show up completely drunk (completely drunk means at some point during the exam, you should start crying for mommy).
16. Comment on how sexy the instructor is looking that day.
17. Come to the exam wearing a black cloak. After about 30 min, put on a white mask and start yelling "I'm here, the phantom of the opera" until they drag you away.
18. If the exam is math/sciences related, make up the longest proofs you could possible think of. Get pi and imaginary numbers into most equations. If it is a written exam, relate everything to your own life story.
19. Try to get people in the room to do a wave.
20. Bring some large, cumbersome, ugly idol. Put it right next to you. Pray to it often. Consider a small sacrifice.
21. During the exam, take apart everything around you. Desks, chairs, anything you can reach.
22. Puke into your exam booklet. Hand it in. Leave.
23. Take 6 packages of rice cakes to the exam. Stuff at least 2 rice cakes into your mouth at once. Chew, then cough. Repeat if necessary.
24. Masturbate.
25. Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About 5 min into it, loudly say to the instructor, "I don't understand ANY of this. I've been to every lecture all semester long! What's the deal? And who the hell are you? Where's the regular guy?"
26. Do the entire exam in another language. If you don't know one, make one up!
27. Bring a black marker. Return the exam with all questions and answers completely blacked out.
28. Every now and then, clap twice rapidly. If the instructor asks why, tell him/her in a very derogatory tone, "the light bulb that goes on above my head when I get an idea is hooked up to a clapper. DUH!"
29. From the moment the exam begins, hum the theme to Jeopardy. Ignore the instructor's requests for you to stop. When they finally get you to leave one way or another, begin whistling the theme to the Bridge on the River Kwai.
30. After you get the exam, call the instructor over, point to any question, ask for the answer. Try to work it out of him/her.
2. Talk the entire way through the exam. Read questions aloud, debate your answers with yourself out loud. If asked to stop, yell out, "I'm SOOO sure that you can hear me thinking." Then start talking about what a jerk the instructor is.
3. Bring a Game Boy. Play with the volume at max level.
4. On the answer sheet find a new, interesting way to refuse to answer every question. For example: I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs. Be creative.
5. Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Breathe a sigh of relief. Go to the instructor, say "They've found me, I have to leave the country" and run off.
6. 15 min. into the exam, stand up, rip up all the papers into very small pieces, throw them into the air and yell out "Merry Christmas." If you're really daring, ask for another copy of the exam. Say you lost the first one. Repeat this process every 15 min.
7. Come into the exam wearing slippers, a bathrobe, a towel on your head, and nothing else.
8. Come down with a BAD case of Tourette's Syndrome during the exam. Be as vulgar as possible.
9. Bring things to throw at the instructor when s/he's not looking. Blame it on the person nearest to you.
10. As soon as the instructor hands you the exam, eat it.
11. Every 5 min. stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam.
12. Turn in the exam approx. 30 min. into it. As you walk out, start commenting on how easy it was.
13. Get the exam. 20 min into it, throw your papers down violently, scream out "Fuck this!" and walk out triumphantly.
14. Arrange a protest before the exam starts (ie. Threaten the instructor that whether or not everyone's done, they are all leaving after one hour to go drink.) 15. Show up completely drunk (completely drunk means at some point during the exam, you should start crying for mommy).
16. Comment on how sexy the instructor is looking that day.
17. Come to the exam wearing a black cloak. After about 30 min, put on a white mask and start yelling "I'm here, the phantom of the opera" until they drag you away.
18. If the exam is math/sciences related, make up the longest proofs you could possible think of. Get pi and imaginary numbers into most equations. If it is a written exam, relate everything to your own life story.
19. Try to get people in the room to do a wave.
20. Bring some large, cumbersome, ugly idol. Put it right next to you. Pray to it often. Consider a small sacrifice.
21. During the exam, take apart everything around you. Desks, chairs, anything you can reach.
22. Puke into your exam booklet. Hand it in. Leave.
23. Take 6 packages of rice cakes to the exam. Stuff at least 2 rice cakes into your mouth at once. Chew, then cough. Repeat if necessary.
24. Masturbate.
25. Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About 5 min into it, loudly say to the instructor, "I don't understand ANY of this. I've been to every lecture all semester long! What's the deal? And who the hell are you? Where's the regular guy?"
26. Do the entire exam in another language. If you don't know one, make one up!
27. Bring a black marker. Return the exam with all questions and answers completely blacked out.
28. Every now and then, clap twice rapidly. If the instructor asks why, tell him/her in a very derogatory tone, "the light bulb that goes on above my head when I get an idea is hooked up to a clapper. DUH!"
29. From the moment the exam begins, hum the theme to Jeopardy. Ignore the instructor's requests for you to stop. When they finally get you to leave one way or another, begin whistling the theme to the Bridge on the River Kwai.
30. After you get the exam, call the instructor over, point to any question, ask for the answer. Try to work it out of him/her.
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