Pakhaana

HITTING THE NERVE IN A TIGHT SPOT

2007-12-17T22:38:00.000+05:00

Cleaning the genital area of the pubic hair is a real mind-boggling job, something which I myself haven’t figured it out as yet. Do you use scissors, hair-removal cream or just the good old razor? Is it a matter of personal preference or is one of them better than the others? Can’t say. But this next story highlights how much bad things can go when you use one of these options.

A friend of a friend (yeah, it’s a long chain so you must be thinking it’s an urban legend) once decided to shave his pubic hair. Whether he was using this option for the first time or not is not known, but what happened we pray happens to none of us. The blade cut through a nerve or something (remember that area is rich in nerve fibers) and in no time he was bleeding so profusely that he had to be taken to the hospital. It was bad enough that he had cut himself so bad that he needed to go to the emergency ward, on top of it, the wound was in such a place that the humiliation alone would have killed him if not the bleeding.

I don’t know the details, but think about it. First he would have told his family where he was bleeding, then the whole family would have gotten involved in trying to control the bleeding by tinkering down there, while all this time he stood naked. Then at the hospital, there would have been quite a few nasty remarks passed at his expense which the family at least would have avoided making. Yep it’s a cruel world. And all this poor guy was doing was take care of his personal hygiene.

So once again, what’s the most efficient as well as safest way to clean your pubic region? Anyone?

JERKING OFF AT SCHOOL

2007-12-10T23:17:00.000+05:00

He wasn’t the nasty boy of the school, and she wasn’t prom queen material. But this guy really had the hots for this lady. Whether he really had the hots himself or was just borrowing it from the rest of the pack, I’ll never know. Thing was, she had just arrived at school to teach the junior classes, and we were the senior-most class about to pass out. And he was a law-abiding ‘studizen’ of the school, always coming with the big grades, and staying away from the wild bunch.

In this backdrop, it’s hard to imagine how this guy could have aroused himself so much by the sight of this teacher to go and jerk off in the school lavatory.

Yes, jerk off, that’s what he did. And not only that, he then had the nerve to proclaim boldly afterwards, ‘Mein ne Rahat ke naam ki lagayi hai!’ That was news to us. That’s how horny and pervert school-boys are when they reach puberty. And it never changes after that, irrespective of whether they get married or not. Or how old they get. Think Sheikh Rasheed, Zia Mohiyuddin and Ghulam Mustafa Khar, the ‘tharkiest’ buddas around. A couple of years ago, at age 67, Khar married a sixteen-year old girl, much to the chagrin of his daughter, the sultry (maybe even slutty) Amina Haq.

I’ve got a friend who resumed watching hard-core porno flicks only a couple of months after getting married. Well, it could mean a number of things, but I never had the nerve to ask him outright why was he doing it after marriage, and what was the use of marriage if he had to fall back on his earlier nasty practices.

Coming back to the school story. The teacher wasn’t a knockout, and I suspect this parhakoo larka didn’t really fancy her initially, until the people around him started doing it. Actually it was this one guy who built a huge crush for this dame, and because he was kind of popular, the crush became collectively a hype. And he just got caught up in the snowball effect, so much so that he had to ‘relieve’ himself in a toilet which we avoided even for the normal operations owing to its ‘impeccable’ hygienic standard.

Shoaib Akhter Says Pakistani Cricket On The Verge Of Extinction

2007-06-30T23:09:00.000+05:00

Shoaib Akhter, the ‘Rawalpindi Express’ has said that the future of Pakistan cricket is looking bleaker by the day.
Shoaib Akhter said that with him, Wasim Akram and Waqar Younus out, there was no one to take the Pakistani cricket to soaring heights.
Shoaib Akhter said this in an interview on the Voice of America Radio (VOA).

Shoaib Akhter said that PCB needed to come up with a proper cricket academy that could hone talent for the next 3 years at least. Shoaib Akhter said that for now, the cricket here in Pakistan is all but doomed just like hockey and squash, which people kept saying would prosper forever because Pakistan is oozing with talent in those games. But we are at the rock bottom in those games now, Shoaib Akhter said, and that it looks like cricket is destined to follow suit.

There may be a grain of truth in what Shoaib Akhter said because looking at the conditions of the streets of Karachi on any given street, you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the youngsters have lost interest in the game.

There was a time when each nook and corner of every city in Pakistan was a playing ground for people passionate about cricket, irrespective of their age. Now, even the big grounds remain deserted. Maybe its because the youngsters have found more constructive use of their time. But playing video games in a gaming arena or watching porn or even flirting around with someone can hardly be considered worthy successors of a game that has given Pakistan probably the only respect and recognition it got from the entire world.

PCB, however, is not amused at Shoaib Akhter’s outburst and is considering taking disciplinary action against Shoaib Akhter as well as Shoaib Malik who has questioned the reformatting of the players’ contact.

Nadeem Farooq Paracha Lambasts Salman Ahmed For Siding With Imran Khan

2007-06-25T22:26:00.001+05:00

Nadeem Farooq Paracha, the self-proclaimed critic of anything and everything Pakistani, is at it again. And he’s at it again because according to him, the Junooni Salman Ahmed is at it again too.

What’s it? For Salman Ahmed it’s his penchant for jumping on the bandwagon that’s going to earn him one more 15 minutes of fame in spite of the fact that the guy has had so much fame and publicity owing to Junoon’s global stardom as well as his own work with the UN. But still his affinity to be in the spotlight remains as much as Mr. Paracha’s ‘obligation’ to bring Salman to justice.

The latest publicity stunt by Salman Ahmed that brought the ire of NFP on him is his grievance against the already shattered MQM that once they forced him to play at the birthday of Altaf Hussein and when he refused they threatened to kill him. NFP blasts Salman to pieces for following in the footsteps of Imran Khan every single time and not having the courage to take the initiative.

NFP doesn’t spare even Imran Khan who he momentarily praises for his bold initiatives. then it’s business as usual for NFP. He asks on what grounds is Imran Khan blasting the other side when he himself has a few skeletons in his closet.

The question is; does committing sins strips you of the right to pinpoint the wrongs of other especially if those sins were committed way back in the past? If that’s the case, then journalism should cease to exist, and NFP should be the first one to pack up his bags, for we are all sinners. Even if you look objectively at it, NFP’s objection that Imran Khan is exposing the corrupt and murderous practices of MQM while he himself has committed many religiously immoral acts in the past is at best bizarre. What’s your sexual adventures got to do with saying the truth?

NFP himself has never been much fond of religion; he’s always after the religious clerics whom he refers to as the ‘mullahs’ with as much disdain as he can muster. Going through his plethora of articles, he doesn’t seem to have much understanding or interest in Islam. And hasn’t he indulged in premarital or extra-marital (now that he’s married) affairs at all in his life? And yet he’s in the forefront blasting everything under the sun to smithereens.

So if he doesn’t believe in the strict injunctions of Islam which includes no sex out of wedlock, then his criticism of Imran Khan ceases to be valid. Needless to say, it’s not the first time NFP has gone on a lambasting spree and it won’t be the last. But what it does is hurt his credibility. He has yet to say something really positive about something other than pop music.

So when he says all those things about Salman Ahmed, he may be right to the hilt, but he’s at it so many times, that people are gradually beginning to give no shit to what he has to say.

Altaf Hussein Says Creation Of Pakistan Biggest Blunder In The History Of Mankind

2007-06-20T22:19:00.000+05:00

Altaf Hussein, the leader of MQM said that the creation of Pakistan was the biggest blunder in the history of mankind. He said that in India almost two years ago during a seminar organized by the Hindustan Times.

Although the statement went unnoticed at that time, it has been highlighted time and again these days especially by leader of Tehreek-e-Insaf Imran Khan after the May 12 carnage in Karachi. The latest platform which Imran used to highlight it was Geo’s Capital Talk by Hamid Mir. When asked why didn’t he raise the issue at that time, he said that he feared for his life because MQM was notorious for assassinating people criticizing it and that he only launched the offensive after the May 12 carnage because MQM is under fire and not in a position to eliminate him lest it be eliminated itself in the process.

Imran Khan alleges that there are 234 cases against Altaf Hussein including torture, extortion and even murder. He also claimed that almost all the MQM members in the government today have innumerable cases pending against them which includes the home secretary Waseem Akhtar against whom there are 62 cases and the governor of Sindh itself Ishratul Ibad who’s the prime suspect in the Hakim Muhammad Said murder case. Mr. Ibad was an absconder until MQM came to power a few years ago.

Imran Khan said that he has given proof to Scotland Yard against Altaf Hussein which is probably going to be published.

British MP George Halloway has got behind Imran Khan in blasting Altaf Hussein. A few days George Halloway delivered the worst possible condemnation of Altaf Hussein ever in the House of Commons. He criticized his own government for granting citizenship to Altaf Hussein. He asked why UK was harboring such a terrorist who directed carnage in Pakistan while sitting in Britain, and that if he had a beard and not been on the side of Musharraf, he would have been at best deported from UK years ago. He said it was ironic that while the War on Terror was going on, UK was siding with a terrorist.

GEO’s Hamid Mir himself alleged in an article he wrote for the Jang newspaper that before Musharraf came to power, when he was just a man in uniform, he said during the presence of Hamid Mir and another politician that he had concrete proof that Altaf Hussein was the killer of Hakim Muhammad Said. And now in order to save his seat, he has allowed that killer to share power with him.

CONFESSIONS OF A DANGEROUS MIND

2007-06-07T16:58:00.000+05:00

‘Abey subha aisi tayyar ho kay aati hain ke banda dang reh jaaye’, Ghaffar spills out dreamily. He’s narrating the bombastic entry of the female employees of the Citibank branch next door to his own bank. The topic under discussion is his experience as an employee of a local bank. He’s pissed off with the status quo of his bank with respect to male-female employee ratio.

‘Hamarey haan saarey khuar londay bharey hain. Aik bhi larki nahi. Bus aik aunty hain. Wo bhi ksi kaam ki nahi.’

‘Aaj kal bank customers retain kernay ke liye KYA nahi kertay. Aisi chikni bachian bitha they hain counters pe kay banday to bandey, bandian pe taarain. Har bank mein yehi scene on hai. Un ka dhanda hi isi strategy pe chal rha hai.

‘Hamarey haan ulta hisaab hai. Full-time londoon se bhara hai!’

‘Jab bhi koi bandi bank mein aati hai sub khuar kuttoon ki tarah us ko taar tey hain jaisey kabhi larki nahi dekhi!’

‘Is tarah ye khaak customer banaayin gay. Har local bank Citibank ko follow kar rha hai. Chalo lush nahi to kam az kam larkian to saamney bitha rahey hain.

Ye saaley to ulti khopri hain. Larkian rakhain gay to customers to attract hongay hi, hamara din bhi acha guzray ga.

Finance ka kaam waisey hi itna dry hota hai, bandian saath hongi to thora un say baath kar kay refresh to hojain gay!

Jamaican Authorities’ Disgrace Imminent On Bob Woolmer Investigation

2007-06-05T23:11:00.000+05:00

Dr. Ere Seshaiah, the Indian pathologist who conducted the autopsy on Bob Woolmer must be having his ass ‘split wide open’ these days after his report was questioned by just about every reputed authority in the world, including the almost revered Scotland Yard.
Dr. Ere Seshaiah was the one who said that Woolmer was murdered and did not die a natural death which led to a media frenzy about the tragedy.

Interestingly, it was the Indian media which made the most hay while the sun shone courtesy the Indian pathologist, and the Pakistani cricket team was the worst affected, for with no suspects in sight, the Jamaican Constabulary Force led by the deputy commissioner Mark Shields through subtle tactics made the victimized team prime suspects in the case. However, Mark Shield’s ass is on the line as well now with no way out to prove that it was a murder. However, these two guys are still dilly dallying by now asking for a third pathology report. However, there’s little doubt that its going to prove otherwise and that Dr. Ere Seshaiah, Mark Shields and the JCF are going to end up in a tight spot.

It’s not only humiliation that they are facing right now, but a possible defamation suit by the Pakistan Cricket board for putting their team through hell.

SHOAIB AKHTAR

2005-02-06T12:31:00.000+05:00

Shoaib in "Action"

He’s tall, dark and deadly in his profession, is a crowd puller all around the world, and when he’s on the final approach running towards his target, flashes of camera go blindly wild.

That’s Shoaib Akhtar for you, one of the sexiest cricketers of modern day cricket. And his wild side is no less popular. Shoaib Akhtar is known to be arrogant, egoistical, womanizer and now a new tag has been attached to him; rapist. However the details are sketchy and it’s not known whether this is a cover-up by the PCB or a maligning attempt by some vested interests to tarnish Pakistani cricketers’ image.

According to what I’ve heard, an Indian paparazzi (the Indians love this mud-slinging game, don’t they?) has been on the trail of this Pakistani Casanova ever since he arrived in Australia, and leave it to Shoaib Akhtar to make the task of a slandering propagandist piece of cake. Whenever Shoaib Akhtar goes on one of his ‘relaxing’ excursions; it is easy dough for this Indian.

Does he have to pick up an ugly chick to be scandalously famous?

And it’s not that Shoaib Akhtar has suddenly turned over a new leaf after achieving celebrity status. He’s been like that even before he was a cricketer, and fame has just accentuated his quota of misdeeds. Shoaib Akhtar was a typical paindu Gunda (punk), and he’s damn proud about it. He has bragged quite a few times about the different scars he has been bestowed with from many of his scuffles, especially the knife induced one on his belly. He was a big gambler as well, used to bet on his own bowling and that’s probably what inspired him to beat the odds. He certainly has beaten the odds in the past few years, going from hero to not even zero, but to a venomous villain.

It’s been quite a long time since Shoaib Akhtar has churned out a match-winning performance, and if I’m right, hardly one or two times after the two Ws retired, or were forced to retire. The only one I can remember is that deadly spell Shoaib Akhtar produced in the second Test match against New Zealand at their home ground which Pakistan won to clinch the Test series. But that’s all.

Check out the statistics and you would be surprised as well at this strange fact. And it makes sense as well. While Wasim and Waqar were there, they used to exert unbearable pressure on the batsman, and then the prospect of facing the fierce pace of Shoaib Akhtar made them lose the battle psychologically. But with these two out of the picture, the batsmen only have to bear three to four overs of Shoaib which is all he can dish out at a time, and then there is no danger.

If he shortens his run-up then there’s hope of his regaining some of his lost glory, but he’s not willing to let go of his famed, almost glamorous 33- metre run-up, even after being advised by one of the best coach in the world, Bob Woolmer and one of the best bowler around these days, Glenn McGrath. What Shoaib Akhtar doesn’t realize or doesn’t want to face is the fact that he’s aging; he can never be that dashing bowler of yore. Waqar Younis realized it in time to adjust from tear-away fast bowler to swing and seam pacer so to be able to sustain his career by almost half a decade.

But it looks like Shoaib doesn’t have much common sense. His body can’t take the load of this type of bowling anymore. It is said that that the leg which lands on the popping crease at the time of delivery, has to bear almost 9 times the body weight of the person. When such exertions and strains are involved, it’s only natural that Shoaib breaks down every now and then, and it won’t be long before he breaks down for good. Everyone grows old, but those that realize that beforehand and adjust accordingly, age gracefully.

MARRIAGE: LOVE OR ARRANGED?

2005-02-04T13:52:00.000+05:00

This piece is inspired by Zack’s post on the same matter, but while his piece was informative, factual and fairly reasonable and the debate that followed pretty sizzling, this one’s going to be downright ridiculous and outrageous. That’s cuz I’m gonna write whatever I’m thinking; uncut and raw. Since the thought process is anything but logical, so expect absurdity galore. But let me clarify beforehand that I don’t take credit for all that’s written here, since much of it has been the outcome of countless hours of ‘grave’ discussion with my Bhai Logs, so they deserve as much appreciation (or loathing) as I. If you’re offended by what I’ve to say, well then, I can’t do much about it, can I?
The West( or let’s just say almost all the non-Muslims) are baffled, even piqued by the arranged marriage custom in Islam(The Indians have it as well, but they are ‘leaning’ more and more towards the West, so cut them out of the picture). Most of us Muslim guys have our own concerns similar to them, so at least I know what the Westerners must think. Leave the compatibility issue aside for now; the very first thing is the sex issue. How do you do it on your wedding night with a complete stranger? Now the times have changed and engagements occur well before the marriage so the couple do get to know each other, and the coupling on the wedding night doesn’t pose that much of a problem. But there was a time when the two people didn’t even get to see each other until the wedding day. This really happened with one of my uncles. And let it be known that Islam does not allow this. Once a companion of Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) came to invite him to his marriage. The Prophet (SAWS) inquired whether he had seen the prospective bride to which he replied in the negative. He then ordered him to see her and then decide about marrying her.
Islam exhorts all Muslims to find out as much as they can (remaining within the prescribed limits) about the person they’re going to spend the rest of their life with. So our society tends to be conservative where the religion has allowed relaxation. And this is just one of the many unfavourable things we have adopted from the Hindu culture. A psychiatrist said on PTV( yep, that’s right, PTV!) during an interview that Pakistani families are liberal enough to let their daughters discuss their vital stats with male tailors, sometimes even let them measure them ,but not liberal enough to let the girl at least talk face to face with the prospective candidate with whom she’s going to spend the rest of her life with. She really hit the bull’s eye. I mean, can you get anymore stupider than that? Imagine that, you haven’t talked to a person ever in your life, and suddenly you get to make love to him or her. It must be particularly hard for the girl, since she’s leaving the comfort of her home and going to live in a new and strange place with strangers which she has no idea about. The fear of the unknown coupled with the ‘union’ on the night is surely a daunting thing for a girl. But it’s not an easy task from a guy’s point of view. Remember, he has to make all the moves. And if he’s a novice like most Pakistani guys, then Jason Bigg’s sex fiasco in American Pie 1 would also be at the back of his mind. Just some petting and necking and he may be all done for the night. People assume that even if the couple are not that acquainted with each other, the heat of the moment would create the momentum for them to go ahead with it even if they hardly know each other. That assumption can be very wrong. A couple of year’s back I read a case file published in Dawn by a doctor. This doctor once had a guy come up to him with some serious marital trouble. It so happened that this guy had an arranged marriage. Now the problem was this guy couldn’t muster enough courage to have sex with his wife probably because he didn’t know her. After a few months when they got to know each other, he tried to approach her but this time around, he couldn’t get an erection. I don’t know much about psychology and stuff, but this looked like the case of the mind controlling the body. The fear or shame was etched onto his mind in the period following his marriage so when he did tried to overcome it, the mind simply refused to give in. The months changed to years, the guy didn’t seek medical attention again probably out of shame whereas the wife was suffering on many fronts as well. Apart from being sexually deprived, she was being scorned by the women of the family for being infertile (people here still believe that a man cannot be impotent or infertile). Still she kept mum about her relationship (or lack of it) with her husband. Finally when the matter came to a head and these womenfolk started suggesting that he take another wife, he sought the advice from this doctor. He went through therapy and some drugs and voila, he was back on track and the wife pregnant in just a few months. So it took them some three years of hell after their marriage to finally unite.
The story, though not a representative of our society, does cast a probing look on our society. For one, women in this part of the world holler all year round that they are living in a female-oppressed society. What they conveniently overlook is that most of the time they play a leading role in making the life of their own kind miserable. In this case, why the hell are they worried about this couple’s off spring? Cases are reported in sections of the press about the husband burning the wife alive for lack of or insufficient dowry. What they don’t mention is that the mother-in-law plays a pivotal role in bringing about the murder. We all heard about the horrendous story of a mother getting her daughter killed in front of her own eyes which was a case of ‘Honour Killing’. I don’t remember the girl’s name, but this gruesome killing took place in Asma Jehangir’s (the human rights activist) office in front of her in broad daylight! So much for women power.
But the main point of the story is that Pakistani man can be disconcerted enough in marriage for these sort of problems to arise, and women can’t do much but wait for him to get his bearing right. This was an extreme case but it doesn’t mean that it may not be common. Since sex is so taboo in our society, most of the problems associated with it are swept under the carpet. I use the word society and not religion because Islam does not forbid discussing sex itself but the profanities springing from it, whereas the reverse is true of our society. People here are screwing around like there’s no tomorrow but no one dare say the word which is almost considered blasphemous.
I was reminded of this whole arranged marriage business because a cousin of mine is been coerced by his mother to marry her niece, that is, his cousin.
Now I know in the West marrying your cousin is considered almost incestuous. Not that incest is considered as evil as it was nearly a decade ago. Incest clubs are springing up as much as the nudist clubs, and accepting them is considered ‘breaking out of the conservative shackles of our ancestors’. Yeah sure, some modernization.
In Islam, cousins are allowed to marry. But sometimes things don’t work out; like in this case my cousin has always viewed this girl as a sister, and it’s hard for him to suddenly start thinking about her as a romantic interest. Her mother’s logic, pretty reasonable to a Pakistani mother, may sound twisted to someone else. Her perception is that since she is her niece, she’s going to take good care of his parents, that is, her and her hubby. But if he marries someone else, that someone will not give a shit about her in-laws. It’s a selfish plan, but I have got to admit she’s also right. The prosperity of an extended family depends very much on the relationship between the daughter and mother-in-law. Scuffles between these two are some of the major house-breakers in this region, not to mention driving the males insane. It’s true really. There are men in our family who have gone literally bonkers solely because their significant others used to incessantly bicker. There’s only so much yapping you can take in one lifetime without crossing the threshold of sanity.
Coming back to the cousin trouble, my concern in this whole mess is that my cousin may end up like that guy who couldn’t make love to his wife. But what can I do? I can’t just walk up to my aunt and voice my fears. Imagine how that would sound, “Hey auntie, could please drop this idea of Sohail getting married to his cousin because he may not be able to have sex with her out of respect and brotherly love for her!” It’s a difficult conversation to have in any culture, and we are talking about the Pakistanis. Only a Pakistani can gauge how that would sound to another Pakistani. To put it mildly, I would be labelled a sex maniac. And I don’t think I have any advice to give to Sohail as well. What can I say? (Actually a lot). It’s not that I can’t discuss such stuff with him even when we haven’t seen each other much in recent years and that I’m a reserved guy. The thing is, if he decides not to marry and word gets out that I had been talking to him, I’d be dead meat. All the same, it would be really frustrating for me to see his mother lead him into a failed marriage. The good news is that he won’t be getting married till his career stabilizes, so hopefully good sense will prevail by then.
Coming back to the question whether arranged or love marriage has a better chance of survival, I don’t think it makes much of a difference in the long run. Yep, in spite of all the apprehensions I’ve laid down concerning an arranged marriage, there’s nothing to suggest that it cannot be a long lasting and happy relationship. Most people today marry of their own choice and yet if you compare the divorce rates between these two categories, there’s not much to it. The only decisive factor in the success of a marriage is the ability of the partners to cope with each other; no matter how much head over heels they may be over each other before the nuptial.

ALI HAIDER

2005-01-23T09:11:00.000+05:00

Ali Haider

Ali Haider has been the blue-eyed boy of Pakistani pop scene for the last 15 years. So it came as a shock to most people when he was caught red-handed with the model Neha in his friend Nomi's(also a model) apartment. Big deal,huh? Not really, in most parts of the world, but this is Pakistan where the majority still views these actions as shameful. It’s not that they don’t happen or are rare. Sexual encounters of this kind take place here as frequently as you can expect from any other part of the world. It’s just that the people here prefer to act naïve about it.
Different versions were published in various tabloids, but the most authentic anyone got with the incident was Dawn Images. They first published Ali Haider’s whiny version of how his pristine reputation was tarnished by this Nazim who to get even with his friend over some political dispute dragged him(Ali Haider) into it. That the three of them were preparing for a shoot and when the Nazim with his goons barged into the apartment and handed the three of them to the police.
Then they published the Nazim’s version. He said that these three were under the influence of alcohol(which was later confirmed when all tested positive for alcohol at Jinnah Postgraduate Medical Centre) and had attracted the attention of the neighbours by throwing liquor bottles from the balcony and shouting obscenities. So the Nazim was forced to do what he did.
Now I know politicians in Pakistan are rarely honest if at all, and this Nazim may have done this just to get some political mileage as Ali Haider alleged. But what this Nazim has to say about the incident makes perfect sense. You just can’t force yourself into someone’s apartment and throw them to the police without some genuine reason. So the only other viable explanation is that Ali Haider was involved in screwing around.
It doesn’t mean I’m out to malign him. I love some of his earlier songs, and he’s a good enough singer to make it this far. But that doesn’t absolve him of wrongdoing, does it? Truth is always bitter.
Ali Haider’s female friends may be a little stubborn to accept this reality, but ask any male fan and he would be readily replying in the affirmative.
Because that makes sense. I mean this guy is almost 40 years, if not more, and he’s a bachelor. I’ve wasted almost half of my blog harping about how excruciatingly difficult it is for us not to ‘take matters into our own hands’. And we are ordinary guys with religious reservations and no real exposure, at least not in the order of magnitude that Ali Haider has.
Since he’s in showbiz, the sky is the limit for Ali Haider as far glamorous babes are concerned. So if has no religious inclinations, what’s stopping him from indulging in some humping around every now and then? I would do exactly that if I were him.
I can bet you anything that he has been into it for ages and is just upset that he was exposed in front of the world.

X-RATED EID

2004-12-06T15:53:00.000+05:00

DAY 0
It never fails to amaze me the idiosyncrasies of our group. We are truly a queer lot, but mind you, not that ‘queer’. Fasting for just a month gave us the license to bloat and brag. It seemed we had done our countrymen a damn big favour by refraining from eating and drinking for this time period. And I’m afraid that’s all we did. Trying to restrain from ogling, back biting, mocking, passing remarks replete with sexual innuendos are just some of the ‘splendid’ things firmly ingrained in our psyche that we can’t seem to let go even for a month and that also for our Creator. May God have mercy on our stinking souls.

The Chand Raat which wasn’t supposed to be one, we were Iftaring out at Pizza Hut, and as usual checking out the babes. We were bad as it is, but they were just as bad. Here they are, presumably fasting and as such should have the sense to at least give a semblance of modesty. But fashion apparently rates higher on their list of ‘Divine’ priorities. And so their they were, in all their glory, stupendously careful not to let even a small curve of their body go without voracious accentuation by their scanty clothing or go unnoticed by the males’ ‘allegedly’ vexing eyes. There’s a phrase we males usually use to comment on such a female .i.e, “kapre pehen ker silwaye hain” (got the clothes stitched while wearing them). In fact I’ve come to know even females use it for their counterparts. Way to go!
Yeah I know. All this does not give us the license to lust and judge. These are truly deplorable times for the Ummah where one gender tries to outdo the other at licentiousness. if even the sanctity of the Holy Ramadan doesn’t diminish our ravenous appetite for dirty talk(and ‘higher’ deeds for the ‘liberal being), what will? So back we come to the same hackneyed stuff that men are a highly arousable animal who get the bonner at the slightest provocation and women enjoy being the cause of this effect.
So after spoiling what was going to be the last ‘Roza’ and filling our sinful appetites to the brim literally as well as figuratively, we went to Sahir’s house to decide upon the future line of action for the remaining night. Chances of Eid the next day were slim as were Pakistan’s chances of getting home against the Indians on their home soil and that also against a daunting target of 292. Miraculously, both managed to happen.
We were still contemplating when about 9 pm it was suddenly announced that tomorrow was going to be Eid. Suddenly everyone sprung into action. Naushad and Bashir immediately got interested in sex and wanted to rent , yeah get this: 10 X-rated cds each! Talk about being desperate. It seemed that they had been caged somewhere with their dicks sealed with Samad bond rather than observing the holy month of Ramadan. There wasn’t the slightest improvement in their ability to curb their desires. Obviously, this blessed month didn’t have the effect God intended to have. I’m afraid the same goes for me as well as the rest of the bunch. For me I guess it was the mob mentality taking over or in other words; peer pressure. Come to think of it, I don’t think I would even be a virgin all these years had it not been for the others to be the same.
I had to get my stuff back from Bashir, so I went along with them to their Shoiab ‘bhai’ who’s their supplier. True to their word, both of them loaded themselves with 10 each. Naushad was just itching to see them so much so he had asked me casually whether he could miss the Eid prayer since they were not Fard (obligatory). I could only gawk at him. Here’s this guy who has worshipped pretty sincerely throughout the holy month, and when it’s time to put the icing on the cake, he just wants to dump it all, all of that hard work amounting to nought. I tried to talk some sense into him, reminding him that it’s going to be hardly a 20 minute affair, and if he can go through more than an hour’s Taraveeh every day, he can certainly withstand this. Common sense, thankfully prevailed in the end, but it still baffles me how a pretty sane person can go incredulously nuts by his sexual urges, even though they are mostly psychological rather than physical. If he could restrain himself for a month, he could surely do it for another day, in fact throughout the year if he put his mind to it. It’s all in the head.

Seeing them helping themselves to ‘goodies’ was getting to my head as well. It was all I could do to keep myself from borrowing some of the goodies from them. But nothing could have prepared me for what was to come later.

DAY 2
The first day was a very frustrating boring one , which most Eids are at least for me. I hadn’t spanked the monkey since I don’t know when, and it was all getting to my head. Trouble was, I didn’t have any material to arouse myself satisfactorily. Sure I could just put some ‘lubrication’ on the ‘thing’ and jerk to my heart’s content, but for some inexplicable reason, it just isn’t gratifying enough. You feel as if you’ve wasted your precious material, which is what you really do in any hand job affair anyway, but when you do it spurred on by watching some X-rated stuff, it feels worth it. I don’t how it works, but that’s what most guys feel. They need to see some really provocative stuff to make their little self-pleasuring session count.
So like I was saying, it was a really sexually frustrating day. I really couldn’t explain why. Hell. I hadn’t watched mating people ( on TV of course) for ages. Remember it was the holy month of Ramadan? And even before that I was really tied down in my job, so sexual fantasies were totally out of the question. But here I was, getting freakin’ aroused for apparently no reason. Considering the gravity of this predicament, it was a real treat for me when a few of my buddies decided to pay me an Eid visit. Mind you, it was no ordinary visit. They were loaded with two hard drives holding enough ‘stuff’ to make even Sylvia Saint blush. And it wasn’t as if the sons of bitches were generous to bestow this Edhi upon me. They were just out on a round going to every friend’s house and picking up dirt from their drives. Naturally, everyone’s drive had something to offer. Luckily my turn came almost at the end of this trip, which meant I had access to a deliciously ‘diversified’ collection. The only thing I had to offer them was my Kazaa collection. It wasn’t anything nearly as large as the others, but it is whamming luscious!

Anything related to computer, software or hardware, is a bit of struggle for all of us, but when it comes to porno, all of us suddenly become self-proclaimed pc junkies. The same was the case that day. I’ve two drives, with the operating systems installed on one of the drives while most of the goodies are on the other one. It was a 4-5 hour session of switching drives, fiddling with jumpers, master, slave and some other shit. In the end, everyone was a satisfied man in every sense of the word.

Kill Muslim Vol.1

2004-07-23T10:57:00.000+05:00

We all know there are people in the world with illusions about
themselves and even the world at large. But an entire news organization
which claims to have 100,000 subscribers? I mean what else you would
call someone who claims that America has double-standards ( he’s right
about this part) against the Israelis! Unbelievable,right? But that’s
what this organization is ‘striving’ to achieve. In it’s own words:

“HonestReporting has led the campaign to insist that news outlets call
Palestinian terror "terror." Now, as the scourge of Islamic terrorism
continues to spread throughout the globe, it is more important than
ever that Israel's struggle against Palestinian terror be properly
identified as part of the larger battle to preserve civil, democratic
society against militant Islam.”

And it gets fantastic by the minute:” Palestinian Arab terrorism against Jews ¯ in the decades before and
after 1948 ¯ long preceded the 1967 war that created the disputed (or
"occupied") territories.”
And then the bombshell:“As the West unites against barbaric Islamic terrorism that now also haunts continental Europe, it is essential that Israel's struggle
against Palestinian terror be properly identified as part of this
larger battle (which many now consider nothing less than World War
III).”

So Muslims are terrorists, huh? Then how come they also happen
to be the victims of non-muslims’ maniac aggression all around the
world. Isn’t that a paradox? It has always baffled me how the media has been able to portray that the Muslims are the terrorists as well as the victims of terrorisms.
While it has been able to convince the masses that Muslims are the
reason behind all evil on earth, it has woefully failed to make a case
of their grievances.The world scoffs at the conspiracy theory that Muslims are targeted all around the world by non-Muslims for being just that; Muslims. Well, look at this album (which should make Tarantino proud) and judge for
yourself if you are willing to take on these people for a “Third World
War” as so bluntly put by this website. Let the show begin:First of all, a look at the upcoming muslim terrorists.

More here

The rest here

Finally the Jenin Refugee Camp massacre by the Isrealis.

Jenin Massacre victims

TITS FOR TAT

2004-07-07T16:38:00.000+05:00

“She’s cute. No she’s gorgeous. Make that ravishing.”
“She’s okay. She may have been all that if she had decent boobs!”, says Sahir matter-of-factly. I gawked at him.
Like I’ve said time and again, boys will be boys. And they love big boobs, no matter where the hell they may live on this planet.(or off it)
I don’t really subscribe to this school of thought, though I wouldn’t mind having a piece of them. And this incredulous taste of mine amazes me to no end. I mean here I am; a straight-forward God fearing simple guy (ahem, not exactly) who unabashedly preaches the virtues of Seerat (nature) and Surat(face) of a gal and the futility of going for the booming chests. But show me a ‘blossomed’ chick and my jaw will drop to the ground just like the next guy. And I can’t think of a single guy who wouldn’t do that. I claim that as a fact, for I’ve known some of the most innocent guys you can find on this planet. Let’s just say I have a knack of getting people to confide in me with their most cherished secrets, not to mention desires and temptations. So believe me when I say I know what men want.
I’ve observed(even read about) this trait extensively, but it’s only now when Sahir comes out with this stoic verdict that I realize it is a Universal Truth: Men Love Big Breasts. I specifically mention breasts and not the owner itself, though it may sound pretty obvious that if you like a part of her, you would like her as well. Well not necessarily. Incredible as it may sound; sometimes men will only ogle at the breasts oblivious of the owner (if she’s your average Jane, that is), like they have a life of their own and can satisfy him more than the woman itself.
I think we can safely conclude that this attraction is firmly ingrained in our psyche. We all know that God made the female attractive to male so that he can copulate with her and ensure the survival of the mankind. But why make the bosom so much luring for the man? What’s so special about it? I really can’t fathom it; one of the most baffling mysteries of life to me.
But it’s comical as well. Imagine how ridiculously hilarious it may sound to any alien that happens to visit our planet, that the male species on this planet who begin their life by feeding off the nourishment provided by the two female mammary glands grow up to be sexually aroused by them.
I mean they are what they are; just two soft fleshy milk-secreting glandular organs on the chest of a woman designed to cater for the offspring. And yet they are powerful enough to fuel the entire porn industry, the surgical industry, not to mention the mainstream movie business. Think breast implants and Pamela Andersen, Demi Moore and Anna Nicole Smith. Okay, maybe that’s a sick analogy.
But how did it come to be? On a primal level, it’s the desire of every woman to please his male counterpart. Women may hark and bark all they want about women power and all the notorious edges they have over men, but at the end of the day they need men. And what better way to get your man than to entice him with your tits(wits are going obsolete).
The overwhelming presence of padded bras, silicone cups and what not in the women’s lingerie arsenal points to the only viable conclusion that women are very much conscious about their breasts, more so than their body itself. They will go to any length to enhance that all elusive cleavage , for whom? Off course for the men though they may innocently declare they just wanna look good, but to what end? So yeah, I do think women have an innate desire of having their breasts appreciated preferable by the opposite sex. So how do they go about this business? Well, by exposing them as much as they can within the social norms of the times. Remember Janet Jackson’s Super Bowl baring? That brought the wrath of almost everyone upon her. She must have wished she was living in the 17th century. Why? That’s because ‘breast baring’ was a fashion back then in England, Netherlands and God knows where else. Before you decide to say bull… check out Discovery Channel’s study on it. Interesting, isn’t it? According to the report, it wasn’t just for the sake of fashion; they were an indication of the woman’s virtue! Our era looks medieval compared to those times. So, it’s not a new phenomenonSorry if I’ve stereotyped the entire female gender about being obsessed their body. Women like her still exist who are striving to break the shackle and go beyond the superficial layer of their existence.
It must be really mind boggling for the womankind, especially girls. They must have looked at theirs a hundred times and couldn’t for the life of them fathom what’s so goddamn special about them. But they really are conscious about them. Take the case of this skinny girl in our university; as flat as they come. And yet in just under three years she had ‘blossomed’ drastically without any noticeable change to her overall anatomy. No big deal really. Only that it stirred a commotion among the male population which propelled her to stardom, or something like it. Her tits were the talk of the town. The self proclaimed experts (which includes just about every male in the university) were formulating theories and hypothesis how she could have achieved such a feat in record time. Some were downright sceptical; dismissing it as just a visual effect brought about by padding, while others had come up with all sorts of weird scenarios, including surgery! But most were content that it was natural, probably the result of the reliable ‘Imli’ and ‘kyaeri’. Whatever the verdict, she became the object of affection of many, not all, mind you. Those who earlier thought of her as just an ordinary girl suddenly began to see some striking features in her which they missed for three straight years!
So that was a desi-boob-success story. But the thing is she wasn’t that bad looking even before, and with time she even groomed herself considerably (did I mention her mother runs a beauty parlour?). So it was the overall effect which did the trick for her. Many though disagree vehemently. Really, the things men discuss.
One other thing which we (i.e. us friends) can’t comprehend is the treatment meted out to the breasts in X-rated movies. Whether they be soft porn or hardcore, caressing of the boobs is just a temporary stop en route to some other destination. A kiss here and a suckle there, and then it’s off to greener pastures. I mean, what’s wrong here? Men can’t get enough of them when they are ogling, but when the time comes to show some ‘loving care’ to these beauties, they are ignored. Maybe the directors think they are not erotic enough. However, we on the other side of this allusive wall think it ain’t fair, but then what do we know?
Over the years I’ve heard quite a few boob jokes. Here’s one of them. It was originally in Urdu, so I’m translating in English, which means it’s probably not going to sound hilarious to you people. Anyway, here goes:
Little Jack was pissed at his mother for not letting him suckle while letting his new born brother have that luxury. So one night he smears poison on her mother’s breast, confident he would get rid of the little pest for good.
The next day he found the father dead.
And here’s another pathetic translation:
Two sisters went to a witch to put an end to their dilemmas: one had big boobs who needed shrinkage and the other small who wanted an increase. The witch gave each of them a spell to get the desired result.
The next day the smaller one comes running to the witch,” What have you done?” she shrieks out. “My tits are gone!”
“Omigosh! The potions must have got interchanged. Where’s your sister?”
“The dairy farm folks took her away.”

THIS IS ME, THEN

2004-06-29T01:00:00.000+05:00

Nope. This does not contain any photo of mine. Okay now, that out of the way, let’s deal with the topic at hand.Many a time I’ve come across a piece of writing which gives me a creepy feeling of being observed and judged, and sometimes it feels like déjà vu, like I’ve passed through exactly the same juncture of life as the writer. Here’s one of them, which appeared in the US magazine about three years back.

ONLY DREAMING DOES NOT HELP

Due to my egotistical and stubborn nature, I always took pleasure in fantasizing about what I would be in life, rather what I would have in life.These thoughts were only illusions and nothing was true about them. A bricked mansion, classy cars,trendy gear and a whole lot of wealth and fame.I never blamed myself for fantasizing since like everyone else, I also had a right to imagine myself as rich and popular. But everything that I had ever owned, seemed to be either taken away from me or as a result of my immaturity, I had always managed to make an irrational decision and make a wrong choice.Ever since I was born, there had been streaks of stubbornness in my nature and that has always made me spoil what ever came my way.Never did I feel a need to be loved or to be adored by everyoneTime passed and my ambitions grew stronger. But the lack of experience never let me think that success demanded sacrifices and much more, which I could not possibly think of doing.Now here I am, all alone, dejected, helpless and a good-for-nothing person. So much for my dreams; none of it happened to come true for real.Sometimes I think of all the people in the world, why did I have to pass through this? I mean u had only thought of a life which was luxurious. But what did I really get?Now I know that only dreaming does not help. There should be efforts involved to achieve it.- NATALIA KHAN
I hope Natalia has learnt her lesson and got her life back on track. About me, I only want to add that I’m determined more than ever to make it all happen. I mean if I don’t strive for it now, that would mean all my dreams were in vain, that I lost precious years of my life. I can’t let that happen. I know being rich isn’t the most important thing in the world, but it does play a significant part in your level of success and happiness. And for me it is vital because all my life I’ve dreamed about it, right from my childhood. Whenever something would come up which I couldn’t get because of lack of money, I would silently vow to myself that I would change all that one day. That day hasn’t come as yet. But it will, InshaAllah.

KAL HO NA HO

2004-06-03T01:07:00.000+05:00

Bashir is in one of these moods these days, where everything and everyone has been cruel and unfair to him; a hindrance to his success where he can’t do shit about it. So he grieves and bitches incessantly about the sorry state of his existence.
The only reason more than half the humanity on this planet leads a miserable and ‘failed’ life is the extraordinary ability to pity themselves. Once in a while we make an effort to be grateful to God for all that he has bestowed upon us, but for the most part, whenever goes something wrong, we indulge eagerly into our favourite sport; lamenting on our misfortune. To us, we are the most unfortunate thing to ever walk this earth, while everyone around us is lucky as hell, especially those who have succeeded in getting out of this vicious circle and make something out of their life. We reserve special wrath for these ‘lucky’ bastards, and if God were to heed our advice, He would already have unleashed his fury on these sons-of-bitches. Not if that would change the state of our sorry existence.
I’m reminded of this fundamental trait of us ‘higher primates’ because of this memoir I read in US magazine and of course, Bashir. It baffles the mind how some people who have got everything to lose, including life myself, plough on; whereas the rest of us go on bickering on petty matters. Here it is:

IT’S TOO SOON

Life was full of excitement
and memorable moments
Till it took a sharp turn,
and changed everything.
It was hard for Ammi and Daddy to break the tragic news to me. It certainly took immense courage to let their only daughter know that her days with her loving family, in a wonderful world, were numbered.
The word ‘Cancer’ did not take me by surprise. After a zillion medical examinations and biopsies, I was sure that something terrible was coming up. I was declared a cancer patient, suffereing from a deadly disease, called Leukaemia.
The regular treatment began and the time to time moaning that resounded in our house became more regular. Our dreams were shattered and hope died. The gloomy future grew nearer and we had to bring down our living standard because of the extra amount spent on my treatment.Time has passed by in misery and the predicted future has come close to the distance of an inch. It is too soon for it all to end, but it seems that the sooner, the better; as more life would mean more painful therapies, more needles, more awful-tasting medicines, more tears and more false hopes for a miracle.
People look at me with pity and it embarrasses me. Death assures me of its arrival every second as I feel my body rotting away. My family watches me die each day, while they hide their faces and pray for the impossible.At times I feel very let down by the One up there. I live with the fact that my existence is of no worth. Everything has been taken away from me just too early. But who am I to judge the doings of nature. If my life has to end this way then it will, no matter what we do.
All those blessed with a promising future and life out there, thank God for the most precious gift He has given to you and make sure that you make good use of while you have it.
- Sameen Sultan

This appeared three years back, so either Sameen has miraculously survived the killer disease, or (very likely) she has passed away by now. In that case, may Allah rest her soul in peace. Amin.

Read it whenever you’re feeling down in the dumps, and pay heed to her advice, so that she can be satisfied(wherever she is) that her life was worth something.

FACES OF DEATH

2004-05-14T09:45:00.000+05:00

twisted fate

If you are a reasonably sane person, you would have cringed at this photo, like me; wondering, ‘What happened to the driver? There’s nothing left of the driver compartment!’

The last time I saw a wreck like this, it was the freak accident of Ben Holioake (a budding British test cricketer) in Australia. His Porsche was in more or less the same condition; after having slammed into a wall at breakneck speed. In this case I don’t know what happened, but it looks like a tornado ran through it.

Ben Holioake rammed this car into a wall at breakneck speed

The case of Ben Holioake was a classic case of how media cloaks such incidents. The wreckage of the car was shown; it was announced curtly that Ben was killed while his girlfriend who was with him in the car was in ‘critical’ condition. And then a smiling Ben was shown in a photo. Nothing on what actually happened to the guy, or how bad a shape the girl was in.

Media print or electronic, is a strange entity. It proclaims itself to be objective and not biased; yet we all know how ‘true’ that claim is, especially when it comes to American media moguls. Whether it is independent or government-controlled; in a third world or otherwise, in the end, it is just another money-minting industry.

In fact if we are to believe the movie ‘Wag the Dog’, Gulf War never even happened. All the images shown on CNN were shot in the Hollywood studios and then leaked to the media who duly obliged. But that’s going too far; it’s not that bad, but it has yet to define a definite role for itself, even after all these centuries.

Objective reporting is there alright, but many a time when it shouldn’t be. The case at hand is proof enough. Everyday thousands of people become victims of man’s most cherished invention; the wheel. Like every wonder of science, it is a double-edged sword as well. And how does it get reported? “A young man was hit by a speeding minibus and died on the spot. An old man was killed in a hit-and-run incident.”

The best they can do is : “A three year old was crushed under the wheels of a speeding tanker.” Even if a nuclear missile was to hit the city, the style of reporting would be just as passive. And we, as callous and indifferent as we are, just go through these cold reports like they happened in a faraway land.

Okay maybe you cannot dramatize each and every accident, but wouldn’t it be better if there came out a special feature on the subject at least once a month covering the human impact of the issue; the impact of the loss on the victims’ families, but most importantly what exactly happened to these people?

I’m not sure about others, but the level of ignorance of our nation is incredible. For us, the most horrible death you can have is to be blown apart by a bomb. Car accidents for us are literally a piece of cake. Who taught us that? Movies, who else? The media factor is there all along.

Most of us grew up watching absurd fender benders on the boob tube where road accidents mean minor head injuries courtesy a bang on the steering wheel if you are inside the vehicle, or getting thrown 20 feet away if you happen to be the passer-by. If worse comes to worst, driver can go anaemic or die an unbelievably peaceful death. The same concession is not given to the victim on the street for whom a little less comfortable death is reserved.

How do we know that? The Indian cinema (and now Star Plus) where the victim gets to be literally camouflaged in ‘ketchup’ irrespective of how many injuries he suffers. In each case, the body remains intact; it may get burnt beyond recognition but not a single limb dare move an inch, let alone be severed.

I happened to confront conflicting reality at an early age when a kid in my school got in such an accident. When I was living in the UAE, near my apartment an incident happened where a man was crushed to death by some heavy object which fell on him while he was passing by an under-construction site. Now this kid from school visited his friend who happened to live near this site. Probably out of curiosity, he went to see the scene of accident, only to be trampled by a speeding dumbass on the service road, just like that.

He remained in intensive care for a good deal of time undergoing major surgeries. When he did come back to school, he was literally unrecognizable. It’s hard to explain what he had become. His face looked like it was made up of pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, only that the pieces didn’t fit together completely, giving a distorted image. That’s what he had become, a crude jigsaw puzzle in a matter of seconds for no fault of his.

Whenever I caught sight of him in the assembly (he wasn’t in my class), I cringed reflexively.

Now you know why I didn’t major in Medicine after having opted for biology earlier in my career and doing quite well at it. A faint heart, you might say, when it comes to such gory stuff, a la ‘Munna Bhai in the Hindi movie Munna Bhai MBBS. Anyway, I hope with the advances in surgical techniques today, that guy gets his face back on track.

This was the first time I had come to face with the ‘behind-the-scenes’ factor of car accidents and it really got to me, at least for the time being.

Shortly after that we returned to Pakistan and I once again lost in touch with reality. Stomach churning accidents continued to take place even here, but I couldn’t care less, until a distant relative’s daughter got minced under the wheels of one of Karachi University’s shuttles while alighting from it. There was a furore over it all over the city as usual, but this time around some of the commotion spilled into our house as well owing to the distant connection. I was again faced with the human aspect of it; the real tragedy behind an almost common occurrence. The right side cerebellum went into high gear, but this time, sparking of the analytical left side counterpart was making an appearance as well. Courtesy this interference, my very first thoughts were how could such an absurd accident happen? With no knowledge of the laws of physics at that time, I couldn’t piece together the scene of the crime in my mind. Not that I can do it even now after being acquainted with physics for a good 8 years. I mean how could you fall off the shuttle and then be killed by it. At best, one of your limbs may come under the wheels but that’s hardly going to kill you. You would have to fall at such an impossible angle that at least one-third of your body, ideally your head should become the victim.

Scary thought that, particularly when you know this shuttle is not your standard mini-van which universities all around the world operate, but a complete bus; as big as they come. Be sure about that; you are going to end up in pretty bad shape whether you end up dead or not, when one of these monsters goes over you.

And so I went on contemplating. What could have gone through her mind in those final moments? All this must have taken place in about five seconds most; her stepping down halfway, the driver getting the bus on the move and then the climax. It’s hard to imagine her feelings in those last rites. She must have felt incredulous; that this is too absurd to be happening to her; dying this way. Fear? I don’t think so. Fear and terror creeps in when there is ample time to think. But of this I’m convinced that five seconds are just enough to see your entire life go through mind in fast forward. Or maybe your frame of reference causes your own time to move at a snail’s pace.

So I went on pondering on events that I had never witnessed with my own eyes. The same cannot be said of my friend Arshad who had the misfortune to see a 3-4 years old girl mashed under the wheels of one of those huge buses. Whether the child felt anything is debatable, but this poor fellow have had quite a few nightmares, abundant in blood and gore. That’s one of the biggest misconceptions about the human mind that it is programmed to forget undesirable things with time. That time conveniently comes after these memories have succeeded in making your life miserable, only to be replaced by some more unpleasant events. It is a vicious circle, I tell you.

One of these unforgettable-for-ever tragedies happened to Raza’s friend’s elder brother (again a distant connection). The guy did medicine from one of the prestigious medical schools of Pakistan, met and fell in love with a girl down there. The two doctors married, had two kids and nothing could have been better until that fateful day. The two of them were riding his bike when upon hitting a ditch the wife got thrown in the path of an approaching trawler. Then, in front of his very eyes, the head of the love of his life burst like a watermelon under the wheels of the gigantic vehicle; spraying the contents all over the road. Gross details aside, just freeze that moment before the actual impact and put your self in the place. What could have gone through your mind when you know the very next instant your life is going to come tumbling down and you can’t do a damn thing about it? What would you have given to prevent it from happening?

This event would have shattered the best of us no matter in which part of the world we live in, but it is double the agony for people, especially men of South Asian origin, or more specifically Pakistani guys. Consider the insurmountable hurdles that we have to face when choosing a life partner of our own choice. First we have got to know the girl which in itself is torturous given the introvert nature of the ‘Mashriqui’ girl. If by any miracle she does happen to like us enough to marry, getting the nod from our parents and more importantly from her parents is yet another arduous task. Here you run into innumerable problems especially if you both are in the same age bracket (a very high probability) and have yet to find a job and maybe even settle down in your profession.

These are very real dilemmas faced by our youth (I’m one of them, remember?). So if you do manage to get your girl (or guy) against all the odds, that’s tantamount to winning the World Cup or the Olympic Gold. It’s no mean feat.

Now what could such a guy who has gone through hell to get his girl, go through when he watches her die in the most horrific fashion?

Tragedy, my dear, we haven’t seen. Whatever petty misfortunes we may have faced in our uselessly miserable lives pale in comparison to the trauma caused to the families of those that are wasted everyday in absurd accidents. And the best the media can do is be damn objective about it.

And now I’m going to show some pics of a really ugly accident that happened in Islamabad, the first of which I have shown you already. I cannot vouch for their authenticity for I received them in my mailbox from, let’s say, pretty obscure sources. I have posted them in the same order I received them, so you can have the same train of thoughts I had.

The first few snaps depict the wreckage of the car from different angles. It is really mind boggling what could have happened. There is no doubt that speed must have been one of the culprits. It looks like a tornado hit it. Looking at these pictures the first time, I was beginning to wonder the same question I ask myself whenever I see wreckage: what happened to the occupants? Suddenly I scrolled down to a pic showing just that. No redundant explanations, you can see for yourself. Some of my friends are sceptical about the authenticity, but I have no reason to believe otherwise, mostly because there are no make-up artists in Pakistan who can come with such a lasting impact.

Apart from these there are a few other nauseating pics as well. A couple portraying the Diana crash though I cannot vouch for their authenticity. Just pass this stuff around especially to any young speed devils you may be knowing. It’s the only way to make people realize the vanity of rash driving when they themselves see how they can end up.

Diana being pulled out of the wreckage of her car

About two weeks back a 24 year old guy was killed in Islamabad when his Civic careened off a bridge.

PLunged(and crushed) to death in the capital

He could have been saved had he received prompt medical attention. But that’s when somebody could have noticed the accident and called in the paramedics on time. Islamabad is largely a ghost town in winter, and at 1:30 am when this event took place, it is completely deserted. So there’s literally no way someone could have witnessed the event and called for help. But it’s a terrifying thought; spending the last few moments of your life trapped in a car writhing in pain and knowing you’re not gonna make it. May Allah save us all from such excruciating mode of death. Amin

DISCLAIMER:

I don’t know who took these pictures or even if they are genuine or not. I just got them in my mail. Contact me if you’re the owner and I’ll give you credit( provided you can prove it).

SEX AND THE CITY

2004-05-12T04:18:00.000+05:00

I find it ironic, no make that comical, that the one thing that we Pakistanis find to console ourselves when compared to the West is that we are morally superior, especially when it comes to matters of the sex. To an extent, this argument is valid; we haven’t stooped to the ‘Jerry Springer’ level where incest is considered a part of freedom of expression; where there are clubs online where you can find ‘family sex’ as if it were the most natural and fun-filled activity in the world. A mother confesses she has been ‘together’ with her son since he was 8 because he has a huge dick and she was tempted! So we haven’t reached rock-bottom, good for us, but that’s where the differences end, and starts the similarities galore.
We read in Pakistan Studies that ours is a country rich in minerals, what they conveniently forgot to mention is this Islamic state is also rich in Sex. Pre-marital, extra-marital; you name it, we got it. If you want an example just sitting wherever in the world you are, go to any popular mating service on the net, for instance Lavalife and Adultfriendfinder.com, and search for Pakistanis, preferably in the adult category. Now go through some of the profiles; you’ll find all sorts of weird tastes and interests. Some may be married and desiring an affair. Some looking for threesome,foursome, fetish and the list goes on. Some of us may argue it’s just a harmless sport for people to vent out their sexual frustrations and that it doesn’t necessarily come to fruition, and definitely does not amount to deviance of the entire nation. Maybe it is true. But seeing is believing, and if you can’t see what is happening out there, well, all I can say is that you must have been living in a hole or something, for the ‘ground’ reality, in the language of Cyberia, is ‘WYSWYG’.
Lahore is one of those ancient cities of the sub-continent having a romantic allure to her, probably for its cherished association to the Mughal era. What most people don’t know or don’t want to talk about is that one of the reasons for it is the notorious ‘Heera Mandi’( Diamond Market). That market precedes independence and maybe even the British Rule. Can’t say for sure, but this I know for sure that the British officers went there to quell their sexual appetites. Yep, you guessed it; it is an ancient sex market, which has survived time and more importantly government and rulers. It is one of those places Pakistan inherited reluctantly on its conception. Anyone who visits Lahore ,be it a Pakistani or foreigner, makes it a point to have a peek at this ancient wonder even if he’s not looking to get laid. But for some inexplicable reason,(probably because it is claimed to be an Islamic state), successive governments have adopted an ostrich approach regarding it, you know; bury your head in the sand and the trouble will hopefully disappear. The local hit band Noori shot their debut video Manwa Re with a few shots depicting the Mandi. Initially, the government of the time didn’t really realize that the video showed the Mandi. But when someone pointed it out to them, the lethargic bureaucratic machinery creakily went to work and the video was banned from PTV. The private channels, however, continued showing it. To this day no one has been able to understand why this drastic step was taken. There wasn’t even a shred of indecency in that video.So the bottom-line is; Lahore is well-known for its sex trade as well. But I’m not an authority on Lahore; I’ve only been there once as a kid. What I can commentate with authority is on Karachi, the city of lights; a place where I’ve lived almost my entire life.
The Karachiites have a few misconceptions of their own. The middle class folk think the upper class is doomed for disaster, since these ‘burgers’ are raising their offspring in the Western way where there are no moral limits. I happen to subscribe partially to this observation and inference. The ‘burgers’ think that the middle class will cease to exist, or if happens to survive will always be like slaves to them, for their children are not getting the ‘quality’ education their children are getting.
What both of these classes don’t realize is they need to take a look at themselves and especially their offspring, for the ‘next’ generation is going nowhere. And the Western media is not necessarily the main culprit. The West does have it’s quota of crappy activities which lure our youth and adult alike but it also has it’s fair share of good qualities which seem oblivious to us. So the truth of the matter is you yourself are inherently bad if only the bad in other cultures attracts you. And one of those evils is sexual freedom. But why is it bad? It’s because it doesn’t accomplish anything in the long run apart from souring relations. You just run round in a vicious circle which goes on consuming you until the day you die. And the driving force behind it all is the human desire for Variety. Variety is the spice of life, they say; but it can also end you up in shit, I say. “Ghar ki daal kha kha kar tang aagya hoon, ab bahar ki biryani khani hai!”(“I’m fed up of eating home made pulses every day; now I want Biryani from outside.) I’ve taken this quotation from the Indian movie Masti since it aptly depicts the sexual appetite of men.
So our UClass views sex through the eyes of the West and their offspring are given licence to screw everyone. The MClass views sex from the viewpoint of Islam but there children indulge in sex anyway. (I speak for the majority cases so don’t get pissed off if you are one of those rare rich and religious type.)
Verdict: The ‘generation next’ is blissfully engrossed in screwing around.(‘Generation previous’ is not lagging far behind). It’s not as widespread, but it’s catching up with drug abuse, probably the most ‘in’ thing for young and adult alike. And area doesn’t matter. You can be in any part of Karachi; posh, second-rate or even a ‘Kachi Abadi’, if there’s one thing Karachi is proud to be uniform in, it’s availability of CSWs. Well, maybe you can add Pepsi, Coke, Gold leaf, Benson and Hedges, Marlboro, and now Mountain Dew to that list.
Gulistan-e-Jauhar, a new area that has sprung up in Karachi behind Safari Park in the past decade or so, was really a jungle, or more precisely; robbers’ den. There was a time when people avoided going near it. Now it’s a thriving locality with extravagant shopping centres springing up like mushrooms. Check out the Millenium Mall there; it’s cool.
Being developed hasn’t changed the ambience of the area much. Criminals still reside in some localities here, but it’s the sex trade which is the most prominent. The area of Perfume Chowk comes easily to mind. That’s because one of my friends resides there. He’s not really a close friend; just the top notch guy of our batch with whom I got acquainted for academic gains. He came from interior Sindh just to study at my university and took up residence with a couple of other guys in Gulistan-e-Jauhar some time back. During the examination season I paid frequent visits to his apartment. He used to tell me stories about his neighbourhood, and I don’t think he was making it up, for why would you want to defame the area you’re living in?
According to him, about one apartment in every ten has a call girl living in. And that entire area is a myriad network of apartment buildings. You can well gauge the number of potential screwing dens there. In fact, on his very floor he had one of these girls having an apartment. Once there was a raid on her apartment and quite a stock of liquor and condoms was recovered. The SP of the area even came to his apartment but went away when he saw it strewn with books.
Once in the wee hours of the morning he saw one of his friends coming from somewhere. When he inquired, the bloke calmly said, “I was visiting the new auntie in the area”. Auntie happens to be a convenient word for the CSWs for these guys.
Then there was this aptitude test centre in Gulshan-e-Iqbal called IAT where I used to go. There was this one classroom there that was quite big where a group of guys and gals used to hang out at the back of it and frolic in suspicious ways. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were doing for they used to sort of lie on the seats; out of sight but this much was evident that they were up to no good. And then one of my friend himself caught them red handed engrossed in an ‘intensive’ patting session in the late afternoon. The centre was open till late at night; you can well imagine the ‘nocturnal’ activities that must have been going on at night. I never was tempted to stay there that late.
And now a word or two about the Karachi University. I go there occasionally to visit Ghafoor who’s studying there. Now I myself have never seen anything out of the ordinary there apart from the usual. You know, a couple sitting behind a shrub here or in some isolated part of KU who suddenly start straightening themselves if you happen to pass even remotely nearby. I always wonder what they are up to, to suddenly become so conscious of anyone nearby. It’s looks funny really, almost like a feline who’s suspicious of everyone. But the local felines have good reason to be on there guard (some dumbasses here like to kick and tease these poor creatures).
I reckon if you want an in-depth analysis of KU you better ask Bushra since she’s the one studying there.
Even Ghafoor though has been unable to find any ‘worthwhile’ incident so far, apart from this one I’m about to narrate, but this happened outside the KU.
It was a half-day at KU, probably due to some strike, so Ghafoor decided to kill some time at the Net Café just outside the university. While he’s surfing there, suddenly this guy and gal emerge from a booth in front of him. The girl is a knockout, he observes. The other thing he observes is that the girl is out of breath and her hair look disheveled. He came to the conclusion right away they were doing it in there. What happens next peeks his curiosity to alarming levels. They are given the booth right next to Ghafoor’s since there previous stopped working. After only a few moments, they are at it again. Ghafoor could hear muffled sighs and moans coming from there and an occasional tap at the booth wall common with his own, the source of which he could not ascertain. Surely they are engaged in some heavy petting and necking, while poor Ghafoor gets all worked up. It was happening just a few metres away from him and he couldn’t even watch it. It’s a cruel world.So what’s the big deal? It’s just some kids having fun, that’s all. Why the hell is this guy getting all turned on?
The big deal is that when you have been sex starved as long as this guy, every little provocative act gets you in the mood. But yeah, I do agree it’s no big deal even by the Pakistani standards.
This was the first time I had received evidence of smooching and cuddling in Cybercafes from a reliable source. It’s more widespread in middle-to-lower class localities where the restrictions on such activities are severe.Clifton and Defence are a class apart. Being the posh areas of this metropolis, the sky’s the limit here. You don’t need these pathetic small cubicles of any café to make out here when you can go to that secluded apartment your dad owns and put it to ‘good’ use as well, or better still why not do it in your own dwelling? It’s super comfy, and you can surely find a time slot when no one is at home, not that they would mind if they did catch you in the act. Yours is the family of the 21st century and you need to live according to the times, not waste your fuckin’ time on some obsolete rules 1400 years old. Don’t worry about the parents. It only will make them say proudly, “My little kid is all grown up!”
But that’s the least of what goes on here. Let’s just say rave parties are a norm here. You aren’t man enough if you haven’t been to one of these. And that applies to girls as well. There was this 16-year old girl interviewed by one of the local magazines in this connection. She said she once went to one of these parties and the next day everyone at school was talking about here. She was furious why everyone was bitching about her when no one raises even a finger when the guys do it. So according to her ours is a very narrow-minded society which doesn’t give equal rights to the women. I would agree with her about the abuse of rights thing, but not for the same reason as hers. We sure are bringing up a disillusioned generation.
I have never been to one of these parties but I got a fairly good idea from a friend. This guy went to one of these raves, and he was simply blown away. It was straight out of a Hollywood teen movie. Everyone was stoned; either dancing around or engaged in passionate embraces. That reminds me, watch the flick Rules Of Attraction; it gives a distinct picture of where today’s youth are heading with this merrymaking.
So by now you must have developed a fairly good idea about Karachi which everyone knows but doesn’t want to talk about.
It may put Karachi in the wrong light, me exposing the darker side of it, but Karachi rocks big time. Believe me; you wouldn’t want to live in any other part of Pakistan once you have spent time here.

INTEREST SUCKS!

2004-05-11T02:15:00.000+05:00

Every non-Muslim and even the so-called secular Muslims scoff at the theory of interest-free banking proposed by Islam. They say interest is an essential part of the financial world and without it the whole system of banking would collapse. So in their opinion Islam is a medieval religion which cannot handle the problems of today’s ‘modern and prosperous’ society. Let me bring these myopic people up to speed with the real consequences of interest. Here’s the excerpt from an article written by Simon Denyer which appeared in the 10th May issue of Dawn:

FARMERS’ WOES TAKE SHINE OFF BJP DRIVE

Aanedoddi(India): Like many Indian farmers, Chikkananjappa took a series of loans from private money lenders to pay for the weddings of his three daughters.

But after his rice and mulberry crops failed, he found it increasingly difficult to keep up with interest payments of up to five percent a month.“After the crop failed, he took another loan to set up a small provisions store, but that failed as well,” said his wife Deviramma, clutching a framed photograph of her husband tightly to her chest in their small family home in southern India.

“Money lenders started harassing him, and at three o’ clock in the night he got out of bed, went outside and hanged himself from a tree in the backyard.”

Chikkananjappa was one of nearly 200 farmers who committed suicide in the southern state of Karnataka last year, where the rains failed for a third year in succession.

Farmers’ unions say thousands more have killed themselves across the country in recent years.

This is the classic example of what can go awry in such a system and Islam strives to offset this very problem. Although Islam is for everyone, rich or poor, but it lays emphasis on protecting the poor from all evils and threats; the biggest threat to them are the rich themselves. The only purpose of interest is to make the rich richer and the poor poorer. You don’t have to look anywhere else other than the glorified United States of America to gauge the enormity of the problem.

The problem is no one gives a shit. Farmers in India? Karanataka? Where the hell is that? That’s the general attitude. If something is happening in a faraway land, you feel you are immune to it. America thought it was immune to the mess it was creating in the Middle East until it overflowed into its own backyard. Even then the lethargic giant didn’t wake up to the realization that something may just be wrong with its own foreign policy and went about creating more mess. The result is for all to see, especially the recent events. It has become the most humiliated country of modern times, so much so that their state department has postponed the release of this year’s international human rights report for fear of being made the butt of a never-ending array of jokes. Not it matters much. There is hardly any US credibility on human rights issues in the world. It’s just an excuse for “third world bashing” at the UN Human Rights Commission in Geneva and at the General Assembly session in New York. But lets backtrack to the topic at hand.

So the thing is, until something bad has happened to you, you just can’t gauge its effects. Nothing like first hand experience. And my family has been a victim of this evil.

My father took some money( ok, a large amount of money) out of his provident fund. Turns out, he had to pay an exorbitant amount of interest on his own money! Naturally, the interest amount wasn’t going to be added to his provident fund. But things didn’t work out for him, and before we knew it, we were in debt. That marked the beginning of a hard 10-year long financial crisis. We still haven’t recovered completely from it, but we are better off than we were back then. It was really tough on my parents; they were used to pampering and showering us with gifts every now and then, and now they were in a position where they could no longer bring us up in the royal manner they had been accustomed to. Even then, they cushioned us from the effects of the nerve wracking fall they had taken. We continued to be fed and taken care of in the best way they could afford. I was the most affected, a pampered spoilt brat used to having every wish of his granted. I knew if even now I asked my father for something, he would do anything, even take more loan to get it for me, that’s the kind of man he is; you don’t get such fathers anywhere in the world. But our mother kept us up to speed with our financial position to make us realize the predicament we were in. So I had to refrain myself from making any outrageous demands. Adversity teaches you much. And it has been a very generous teacher for me. There’s no doubt in my mind that everything good or bad comes from God. But he has also given us the power of choosing on our own. My experience with the harrowing of effects of interest from up close has furthered renewed my faith in Islam that whatever Islam forbids you from doing is beneficial for you in the long run. I don’t know much about Islamic banking, but I know this much: Malaysia adopted the Islamic model and it is one of the economic powers of the Muslim world. Anyone coming across some good resources online about the Islamic banking please let me know.

CRUEL GAME

2004-04-25T23:24:00.000+05:00

Cricket is a cruel game both mentally and physically, whether it is played on the street or in the international arena. What happened to the Pakistan team recently gives ample proof of that.
It may seem ironic that while Pakistan cricket has suffered probably the most humiliating defeat since its inception, and the staunchest of cricket fans have turned away from it, we(our group) have suddenly spurred an interest in it after all these years.
Well, it wasn’t exactly everyone’s idea. It was Bashir who invited us all to have a cricket match in his ‘gulee’(street). We were sceptical at first, but then decided, what the hell; we don’t have anything better to do.
So on the agreed day, which was today, I and Arshad went first to Sahir’s house; a two bus long arduous journey, where we had lunch and caught up with old times for an hour or two, and then it was off to Bashir’s house in Sahir’s car. That dumbass was sleeping when we got there and didn’t have a respectable bat (thankfully Sahir had decided to take his) and or even a ball. And then it took ages for him to get a ball and tape, and then wrap the tape around the ball. For people who are not familiar with this practice, people in the subcontinent don’t use the standard hardball in their game. For one, we don’t have that many grounds to play cricket being a third world country and all, and the handful that are there are overcrowded. A single ground holds 5-10 matches at any given time, so that’s how bad the situation is; you’re gonna get someone seriously injured if you use that ball in such places. Plus it is costly if you opt for that ball; you’re then going to have to have the proper kit to go with it; helmet, pads, gloves and the most important shield, the guard. So we usually make do with a tennis ball. For that you only require an inexpensive bat. For wickets, we had a chair at one end and a couple of big stones at the other. The crease was drawn with a stone. That’s your standard street cricket in this part of the world. Plastic tape is wound around the ball to make the ball harder so that it does not travel a great distance when hit. Mostly the tape is wrapped around the ball just once, but if you wanna get tough, you get a second wrapping as well. There are many other arrangements you can get with this wrapping business. You can leave a small portion of the ball unwrapped to make the ball seam around when it lands on that patch. You can also get a crude seam etched with the help of the tape. So with all this, we get a ball which is relatively less lethal. I use the word relative because it can still wreak minor havocs. It can break windows of houses pretty efficiently (that’s because those streets are the narrow lanes between the houses in the residential district) but most importantly it can hurt your manhood literally. You must have seen in the movies people kicked in the groin wincing in pain, or the cricket matches where a batsmen goes down after having been hit there in spite of wearing a guard. Let me tell you guys, it really hurts! It is instantaneous pain which hits you like a sledge hammer. The world ceases to exist for you; all that remains is the pain. That’s how disoriented you become, and it doesn’t subside that easily.
I can still remember the first time I was hit there. I was hardly 6 or 7 years old, I and a friend of mine were playing with a hardball. Yep. I had got dad to buy me one after some intense persuasion even when I was that young. It wasn’t your usual hardball with seam and all, but it was rock hard nonetheless. In the midst of my batting, for some reason I told him to leave the hard one and bowl a couple of deliveries with the taped ball. So tape ball it was. Just two deliveries after the ball change, the bombshell dropped on me. Yep, the ball hit me squarely in the nuts, and the world turned upside down on me. It was the most intense pain I had experienced at that time.Even back then as young as I was, I never used to cry; it was instilled in my psyche that men dare not cry lest they be branded as sissies. Keeping this in mind, I fought with all my willpower to fight back the tears, but the pain was too overwhelming to resist, and so by the tine my mother came out (the match was played in our outer compound), my tear-stricken face was redder than a beetroot, and I was producing barely audible wails of an animal caught in a snare, still fighting to keep my composure lest some pal of mine happen to walk by our house and hear me cry. That just couldn’t happen. It was bad as it was hurting my dick, a blotch on my honour would have been too much to live with.
So my mother gently took my inside and asked what had happened. (The friend had vanished while I was writhing in agony). I told her the story and she took a look at my genitals which appeared to be even redder than my face. I can’t recall what happened next; whether I got any treatment or any lecture on being careful the next time. This much I remember that I didn’t get any scolding.
Let me also assure you guys that you just don’t get used to this type of injury and pain. Every time you get hit there, it’s a new experience altogether. So now you know why this game is cruel. I know rugby and American football are crueller, even barbaric, but that’s mostly in the physical sense. How would you feel if you toil hard 8-9 hours a day for five consecutive days and then are handed a scathing defeat which is going to haunt you for the rest of your life. And now make that two such defeats. Know what I mean? It’s the most psychologically debilitating game. No wonder Inzamam has become a disturbed man. Go through my last entry to get that update.
And we on the street play it even tougher, just to offset the impact of a ‘softer’ ball (which can still screw your balls). For instance, instead of the standard 22-yards, we had a 16-17 yards ‘street pitch’. To make it spicier, two hits on the body struck you out. On top of that, anything goes; you can fire as many bouncers as you like. So you’ve got to have good survival skills to make it as a batsman in such games.
And now in this backdrop, consider me playing cricket after two years! In fact most of us were, except for Sahir who plays every now and then including hard ball matches. I was pretty rusty, like most of the others but not that bad. Batting came back to me pretty soon. That’s got more to do with listening to commentary intently all these years than anything else. If you strip out all the hype, and fall back on the basic, it’s pretty simple, provided that you have played enough cricket. Keep your eyes on the ball, get your leading foot in line with the ball, let the ball come to you instead of going after it and then just let the bat caress the ball. If you have executed all the motions correctly, the gentle but steady swing of your bat coupled with good timing will speed up the ball on its way to whichever direction you hit it. I did it like they are taught in the coaching manual, and it was pretty effective. They kept me feeding over pitched stuff and I just kept it hitting all along the ground. Well, not for long. They soon discovered my weakness. Whenever a right handed bowler came round the wicket, and bowled on my legs, I got my footwork all tangled up and a hit on the body was curtains for you. Thats how they got me each time.
Bowling, however, was a different matter altogether. My bowling was pathetic to say the least. A bowler of my height is suppose to take advantage of it and dish out respectable bouncers and yet the only thing I could manage to get was a niggling pain in my upper back stretching all the way to my neck. It’s strange though, bowling fast is supposed to exert stresses on your lower back. I guess I’m a one of a kind case. And yeah, the discomfort still remains as I write all this down. So much for aerobic exercises and strength training.

INZI AND SHOAB UNCUT

2004-04-20T10:26:00.000+05:00

There isn’t much I can add to the debate over Pakistan’s humiliating defeat to India, except that every other writer in the country has begun his article with this very wording, and then has launched a scathing attack on every conceivable person (peons included) associated with the present cricket board. So that’s the fervour of this nation for cricket that even the intellectual can’t think straight without allowing emotions to cloud their thinking.
All I have to offer is some remarks that Daryl Foster, the bowling coach of Pakistan team during the World Cup made when sought advice on whether Inzimam and Shoaib should be included in the team after the World Cup:There isn’t much I can add to the debate over Pakistan’s humiliating defeat to India, except that every other writer in the country has begun his article with this very wording, and then has launched a scathing attack on every conceivable person (peons included) associated with the present cricket board. So that’s the fervour of this nation for cricket that even the intellectual can’t think straight without allowing emotions to cloud their thinking.
All I have to offer is some remarks that Daryl Foster, the bowling coach of Pakistan team during the World Cup made when sought advice on whether Inzimam and Shoaib should be included in the team after the World Cup:

“Inzi, has he recovered from the trauma he sustained in South Africa because I believe he needed specialist psychiatric help because he was in such a mess. If he is not making runs he drags everyone down and young players don’t need to see that sort of attitude. If Australia can drop Waugh)Steve) from their one-day team then Pakistan can leave out Inzi. And perhaps, if he is right and that is the big question, play him in test matches only”.
About Shoaib he wrote: “ As for Shoaib, I was personally very upset with his attitude in South Africa. I have lost faith in him, particularly in his ability to play for his team, it is about him all of the time. He was not fit and I would leave him out for a while longer to see if he can change his attitude. Sure he can perhaps be a match winner but all too often he cannot maintain his pace for 5 overs let alone 10 overs.”“So perhaps my thoughts are pretty radical but I would give the young guys a further responsibility and leave both Inzi and Shoaib out for the time being.”

But both were brought back and the rest is history.In one of his reports last year, Foster said:

“I fully support the selectors (Aamir Sohail and company) for selecting such a young and promising team- everyone however has to be a little patient and should not, at the first failure, return to picking the veterans as they will not get any better.”“In my view after touring England and South Africa with the Pakistan team the selectors must choose players who have character, are mentally tough and who will fight. It seems to me that they may have concentrated on continuing to pick players who look technically good but don’t fight when the pressure is applied. Try to get the player you need to be successful.”“Richard(Pybus) tried to do it but I felt the senior players resisted. They(young players) are a valuable resource, they need to learn quickly and they will be most loyal to you if they feel you have their interest at heart- players like Sami,Taufiq, Faisal, etc just want someone to show interest in them instead of Waqar going off at them all the time.”
“ The lovely thing about young players is that they don’t fear failure and are prepared to take calculated risks and go for it. Therefore if they occasionally make a mistake or stuff up, don’t be too hard on them- but if they make the same mistake again that is the time to point out to them that good players learn from their mistakes and don’t go on repeating them.”

FINAL DESTINATION

2004-02-29T00:56:00.000+05:00

I’ve just finished offering my Zuhr prayers, and all the while my mind was wandering in some far away meadows. In fact there were quite a few parallel streams of thought flowing at the same time. You can well imagine what sort of prayer it must have been; just going through the motions mechanically, with no spiritual involvement. I just hope God in his infinite Mercy forgives me once again.
The other day I saw the interview of Junoon’s Salman Ahmed. He was explaining how intoxicating music is. He could go on for eighteen hours straight, strumming his guitar randomly to some unsung melodies.Likewise is the case of random thoughts. I can go on harping about what goes on in my mind, and neither exhaust the supply of thoughts nor myself.The other day we were gathered, I floated the idea of letting each other know where we kept our ‘forbidden’ stuff, so that if we were to die at any moment, at least our families could be spared the extra agony of discovering what ‘things’ we were up to when we were alive. You know it’s so easy to say that we’ve got quite a few decades left in our life and that we can become sober and return to the ‘Path’ whenever we have lived our life to the Max.
But the thing is, you will never be able to live your life to the Max. A satisfied life? Yeah that’s very much possible, but there is no such thing as Maximum pleasure. And that’s because Homo sapiens’ wish list always exceeds their lifeline.
Can you give any guarantee that you’ll be alive next year, next day or the very next minute? This may sound absurd to most of you. What possibly can happen to us the very next minute if we are within the confines of our homes,offices, etc. where the possibility of anything disastrous happening is next to nil?
Think for a second.
What happened to the staff working in the World Trade Centre on that fateful Day? Could they’ve had even an inkling of what was going to happen? Never even in their wildest dreams could they have come up with the scenario of working in their cocoons and being killed by a 747 which happened to smash into their offices’window. It’s the same line of thinking that we all have.
I ponder sometimes what could have been the stream of thought going on in that person’s mind who happened to glance out of his office window and saw a jumbo airliner heading straight for him!
“This is just some sort of sophisticated joke,” would have been the likely declaration of any sane and reasonable person.
In a way, the scenario does sound comic, like a Tom and Jerry cartoon. It’s downright scary at the same time. I read somewhere that the heat generated by the exploding fuselage of the jet liners was so intense that the temperatures reached were about 2000-3000 C. Now that’s hot; the body can literally vaporize in a matter of seconds at such extremes. Could it have been painful? Now that’s unchartered territory. We’ll never be able to gauge how much pain death causes and whether the mode of death plays a role in the level and extent of pain or not. According to this thought-provoking Islamic book “Maut Ka Manzar” ( Scene of Death) I once read, death feels like your every limb is being cut or torn apart one by one. That’s how intense it is, irrespective of the mode of death. A man may look like he died peacefully, but that’s because he does not have the strength to utter any cry of anguish while the soul is being seeped slowly out of his body. That’s the scariest thing you’ll come across ever. And to think that each one of us is going to pass through this experience sooner or later. I don’t remember the exact verse, but the Holy Quran speaks of the fact that everything that is born has to taste death. So the ongoing intensive research of making man mortal is going to come to no good. At best it may increase the life expectancy of the humans manifold, but for how long? 100 years 1000 years or even 10,000 years. The end shall come no matter what. We know that Hazrat Nuh (AS) (Prophet Noah) lived around for 900 years and that the ages of people in that era bordered on 1000.
So coming back to freakish deaths, what are the odds of such a thing happening? Probably none. But it did. The same thing the victims of the Bam earthquake must have been thinking. And yet 20,000 people perished in the space of a few seconds. The ones who died instantaneously were the lucky ones. It’s the ones who got trapped and slowly suffocated to death who really faced the real fury of the quake.
Coming back to Karachi, could those three females, a mother and her two teenage daughters foreseen what was in store for them, when the mother very carefully nudged their Mehran from a side lane onto a seemingly deserted main road, only the car to be sliced into half( and probably them too) by an SUV(Pajero) driven by a couple of drunken teenagers.
The truth of the matter is, you never know when and where the Malakul Mauth (the Angel of Death) is going to strike. So you are never too young to come up with a Will of some sort; at least let your close friends know what you may want ‘corrected’ in your room once you are no more.Personally, I would advise you to do away with all those skeletons in your closet.
Be prepared.

9-YEAR OLD GIRL TORTURED TO DEATH!

2004-02-12T23:10:00.000+05:00

That was one of today’s headlines that caught my attention. The headline alone sickened me, but out of curiosity I read the details. It seems that gang-raping children isn’t sufficient these days for perverts and paedophiles. Even killing does not satisfy them. They have to literally shred their victims to pieces before they can achieve whatever morbid sexual gratification these bastards desire.
In this case, this girl Saira was found strangulated, with cigarette burns on her right eye. On closer examination, the doctors found that attempts had been made to peel off her skin with bare nails.
What the fuck do these assholes aim to achieve? I don’t believe even a deranged person can think of such abominable acts. This can’t be the work of a sick person. It is the work of a completely sane person, very well aware of his actions but having disgustingly twisted desires.
Non-Muslims ask the Muslim Community if Allah is All-Merciful and All-Forgiving, then why He created hell. What people fail to realize is that He’s also Just. So what are the options open to Him when people commit such acts? He can forgive them easily for who can be more Merciful than Him. But what would you want to happen to the people who rape and kill your daughter brutally? Would you want them to be let off the hook? I wouldn’t. I would skin those bastards alive. And you would probably do something similar to that as well. That’s what Allah hopes to do to these people in hell. For you can bet they will probably never be caught in this world. And if you don’t believe in Life-After-Death, then you must be believing in an unjust God.
There was one other such incident a few months back that happened to make it in the media spotlight. A 13 year old boy was on his way to home in the Shah Faisal Colony ( a lower working class area near the airport) when he was intercepted by four policemen near the Colony gate. He was taken to a deserted under-construction site where these protectors of law took turns raping the shit of the poor soul. How would you feel if someone ripped open your arsehole with a ‘spear’ not once, but four times? Not good, I bet.So this ravaged kid goes home, locks himself in a room, sprinkles kerosene all over himself and…..
The fire was put out just in time by his elder brother who immediately rushed him to the hospital and on the way got him to narrate the brutal incident. Later a statement was recorded by the police from the kid who succumbed to his third degree burns soon after.
Whatever little bit of investigation was carried out revealed that this was only one of the innumerable molestations carried out by these four. Whenever they got transferred from that area they somehow managed to get themselves posted back to their favourite hunting spot. The last I heard of this case was that the four were taken into custody till ‘further’ investigations.
I don’t know what on earth do those crime investigators mean when they say you have to go inside the mind of the killer to solve the crime. How can you enter the mind of such an animal?
The incredulous thing is, these are not random and isolated incidents. This sort of ugly stuff has started to happen with such impunity as it was a pick-pocketing misdemeanour. For us, it could have been taking place in Timbuktu for all we cared. That’s how secure we feel in our cocoons. Little do we realize that this false sense of immunity can crumble in a matter of seconds, that the society’s dark forces can penetrate our vulnerable dwellings as well, unless we do something about it collectively. As far as my pessimistic views go, I don’t think we’re going to see any improvement at least in our lifetime, unless… Unless this treatment is meted to some high profile kid; such as maybe the grand offspring of General Sahib? In such an incredible scenario, you can expect the wrath of the entire government to fall on every single person even vaguely suspicious of being a paedophiles in the country, in the quest for the real culprits. In such times of brutal force, any person would think twice of approaching any child, even if he or she is a relative. We desperately require such a regime. Who says the Talibans are barbarians? For a nation such as ours, even more fierce leaders are needed. In fact the whole world requires such dictators, who can just cut the dicks off of these animals. Who then dare commit a crime? Every single criminal in the whole wide world would be willing to give up his profession if he’s convinced he’ll lose his manhood if caught.

FLIRTING WITH DISASTER

2004-01-26T13:52:00.000+05:00

I now am a firm believer of Murphy’s Law that anything that can go wrong will probably (read definitely) go wrong. I had noticed this law being verified now and then partially in my life, but what happened on this last Saturday; the P-day(Read D-Day), has got me converted.
From the very first minute, things started to go haywire. I was struggling with the tie when the collar button popped out conveniently.
I went to Arshad’s house with the hard drive to transfer the data, only to find out I had left out Quick Time on the other drive, which was crucial for the presentation. With no time to go back for it, the three cars including mine rushed to the destination and I almost killed a guy.
No kidding. This guy made a run for the bus that was leaving just as I was passing it at top speed. Had I not swerved wildly, it would have been curtains for that idiot. And I had decided at the very instant that I was not going to hang around to check his state if I hit him. He wouldn’t have lasted, so why to waste time by hanging around. It wouldn’t have done him any good or me for that matter.
Next thing on the menu was the power chord of Fahad’s PC, which got left behind at Arshad’s house.
The presentation got off to a grinding start; our opening batsman stuttered all the way to his miserable ending just as you would expect our cricket team to blunder.
It got better a little bit until it was my turn, then this almost bald guy comes in who doesn’t know shit about our project and goes in for the kill. To keep it short, it became a duel between the two of us, the baldy objecting to every single thing we have done and me letting out a few sarcastic remarks of my own. It was not until the coordinator of the presentation intervened that things cooled down a bit. But not me. I’m still fuming.
That very same evening the whole lot of us were supposed to have a nice evening out at Eaton, but the volatile mood of me and Bashir made sure the evening remained sour. We were to go to Sea View and have a nice little photo session and some fooling around just for old times sake. But that predictably didn’t materialize.
It is true that whatever happens is for the better brought about by the will of Allah, depicted beautifully in that story that Abez put in her blog about the man with the broken leg. But sometimes it’s simply inexplicable what good could have come out of an event. And it’s much harder to bear with patience when this happens. Even during the prayers that day, the events of the day were being rerun in my mind like some old classic.
The only thing I was able to accomplish that day was to restrain myself from watching some X-rated stuff. The rest of the lot, I’m sure, would have gone ahead. It is extremely hard to pick yourself up and put a genuine smile on your face in such a situation, especially when your mother and sister are probing about the events of the day every single minute. They make sure you don’t forget the bitter reality even if you want to. (Abbu, thankfully is not as nosy, but then, men are usually not) For me, the only escape is to watch some outrageous comedy (laughter is definitely the best medicine) or the last resort is the ‘forbidden stuff’. That night I had run out of comic stuff, Star World doesn’t air comedies late night, so the only ‘feasible’ solution was ….. Thankfully, tiredness caught up with me and I just went to sleep. Otherwise I would have definitely gone for it. It’s a real tranquilizing experience, I tell you. It washes away all your worries and frustrations just like that, and the blissful sleep you get to have after doing it is unparalleled. Okay, maybe that’s going too far, but it is second only to the sleep you get to have after having done some pretty tough task.
But it does have it’s drawbacks, even when you take religion out of the picture. Medically it is considered a harmless activity, but it does have far reaching psychological implications.
So why do I do it, a relatively reasonable and God-fearing person? You know the downsides and you still want to press on? I just can’t help it; it’s part of being a male.
Most of the time you are quite normal and may even discard your own sexual fantasies and activities as absurd, but then there are those days when you are, umm.. how do I put this; in heat, like in animals. Throughout the day you get frequent urges to pee, but when you go to relieve yourself, you find out it was a false alarm. It’s then you realize that it’s your ‘horny’ day. In those times, the slightest provocation can lead to erection and ‘more’. Do you know how easily aroused the male species are under normal conditions? Just a few images and the engine gets revved in a matter of seconds. Now imagine passing through a whole day of excited state! It’s simply nerve wracking. Some days you are able to resist the temptation while at others you just give in to your primal instinct. My only consolation is that I’m able to resist more than most of the guys. The first time I remember masturbating (it was soo long ago), it wasn’t really a work of my hands but just my mind. My exams were up; I was lying on the bed with a book in my hand and two babes in my head. I was so engrossed in the fantasy that I didn’t realize I had reached the climax when suddenly I ejaculated vehemently in my pajama. Although I was covered with enormous amount of cum all over my lower half (I still can’t figure out how Ben Stiller got it to reach his ear when he was aiming down), I was thinking, ‘Hey, that wasn’t so bad. Let’s do that again sometime.’ And guess what, it was my ‘horny’ day. So yeah, there’s no escaping this vicious condition. You’ve got to learn to live with it. The only solution: get married!
So now girls, if you ask a guy whether he has watched any explicit stuff and spent time ‘alone’ with himself, no matter how innocent and naïve and simple he may be, if he says no, you can be sure that he is a freakin’ Liar. I bet even imbeciles can’t keep their hands off their pants (remember Forrest Gump?). The only real exceptions are guys who are deeply into religion, and not those (probably including me) who are only superficially inclined towards it or in other words; it’s a matter of mood for them.
But don’t be alarmed, it’s just a phase that every male passes through; they settle down after marriage and usually become responsible husbands and fathers, umm.., most of them. What do you think your loving and caring father was like when he was at his prime? Believe you me, this species changes drastically with age!
It’s no fault of ours though. This is ingrained in our Psychology, Physiology, whatever name you want to give it. The hormone testosterone makes sure that we get sexually aroused every now and then; it’s the real culprit. We are completely innocents! :))
So what about you girls? Want to share your own sexual insights? It’s always good to hear the ‘other side’ of the story.

ENDANGERED SPECIES

2004-01-18T12:41:00.000+05:00

Nope. This is not about the wildlife. In fact it is about the wild lives of Pakistanis, with the focus on my own. But the endangered species? Well, if you haven’t guessed by now, read on:
I‘ve just come back from a friend’s house where the four of us were going through the presentation we have to give regarding our project. It’s such an energy sapping task. I’m completely beat, still, let me recount the events of the day.
I got up in the morning (about 9), picked up one of my friends and went to the Power House area which is beyond the Sohrab Goth, one of the far corners of Karachi. This is where our graphic designer lives, who’s doing the 3-d modelling of our project.
Do you guys know how much it costs to get an animation produced on one of those fancy softwares. For a single second of animation, the rates are anywhere between 3-5,000 rupees! And that’s for 3-D studio max, which is fast being taken over by Maya. You can well imagine how much it would cost to get this done work on Maya.
I tell you man, this is one helluva money minting stuff; don’t know how I ended up with this engineering…….
But we are lucky to have contacts in this regard; we got the deal dirt cheap and the guy is a real pro.
So after being satisfied that the modelling work was going on fine, I went back to home, left the car( Dad needed it) and took the bus to another friend’s house. This one too lives in one of the other corners of Karachi, near Safoora Goth to be exact. Heard that name? Probably not.
Here the four of us gathered to discuss the intricacies of our project, and ended up discussing sex as usual. Among our group of friends( there are 12 altogether),I’m the undisputed expert on this topic.
So how did I end up being what ‘I am’. Well, to begin with, I took biology in my 9th grade instead of computers. Now our library had loads of biology literature, probably for the A-levelers. I went through that stuff thoroughly like a possessed scientist. Still my thirst was not quenched, so I got hold of a few sex manuals from the ‘Thela Walas’ that used to put up used book stalls in front of the newly built Expo Centre at Hasan Square. (If you are wondering where these THelas have gone, they have shifted in front of the Baitul Mukarram Masjid further down the University Road, ahead of the Pizza Hut).
I went through all those manuals too like a mad man. That was way back in 1995-96. It’s 2004 today, and my thirst is still right up there, J at least I’ve the satisfaction of knowing stuff which almost every other guy ( and gal for that matter) has misconceptions about. I have managed to enlighten many a people about the pros and cons of sex. Maybe I should have become a sex therapist or educationist. What the hell, at least I would be able to satisfy my wife big time. Lol. (The wacko continues to reside in the fool’s paradise).
So here we were, gathered to plan for the D-day ahead, and instead pondering over the perplexities of sex. It wasn’t the first time though. Our meetings usually had this hidden agenda instilled. How do gay people do it? Aren’t they disgusted? You know, stuff like that. Arshad had added some other hot pics to his already infinite collection, and we went through them like hungry wolves, desperate to get married and laid, and yet harping about how great Bachelor Life was. We knew the alternate was premarital relations, but no one brought it up. It was understood between us without saying that our lives were already hellishly complicated, and the last thing we wanted was another twist, and that also against the religion, lest it brought the wrath of God. You people must be thinking you have a pretty good idea of how ‘religious’ we are, but you don’t. We do have our limits which we don’t cross. We know that Karachiites are into the screwing around business big time, and yet we don’t risk getting a taste of it. Sex and Drugs are a definite no for us, not to mention booze. That should solve the mystery of the endangered species.
Some of you are probably aware of the fact that there are regular rave parties participated by teenagers as young as fourteen year-old (including girls!) so if you are parent living in one of the posh localities of Karachi and you notice your “Chand ke Tokray” unusually absent from home, well, now you know what they’re up to.
And if you happen to own a spare apartment in town, get rid off it; it makes a great haven of sex for your offspring, and if you are a wife, then for your husband as well!
And it doesn’t matter in which area you reside. Cricket Night matches held in North Nazimabad( the ex-posh area of Karachi) usually end with booze and brawl.
One of the favourite places of teenagers who live in apartments to make out is the rooftops, preferably in late afternoon. To agar aap ki sahib zaadi is missing, head for the top first.
Exaggerating, am I? Nope.So how do I know this stuff?
I’m a guy, remember? An apparently normal person who just happens to keep his eyes on the look out for the unusual.
It does pay rich dividends, you know. Once I caught two ‘ripe’ teenagers in the act in a garage of the ‘respected’ army area; the Askari 4! I cursed myself for not having my camera with me at that time. It would have made great viewing on the web. Probably would have propelled my blog to controversial heights.
Anything for fame, right? Even at the behest of someone’s reputation? Sure, why not?
I didn’t exhort those horny kids to screw around in public places. In fact now that I come to think of it, I could even have blackmailed them and extracted some favors, maybe even money if they were rich brats. (Do you hear the things this idiot comes up with?)
But I’ve learnt from my mistake. I keep my cam close by at all times; you never know what you may get to shoot!
So be warned Karachiites! Here I come with my ……

HORNY IN PAKISTAN

2004-01-07T23:28:00.000+05:00

It's 12:30 on a Saturday night, and I'm contemplating whether I should watch the cable, one of the loads of movies I've got in my collection, or just an old-fashioned simple X-rated movie.
Watching that stuff, however, is going to urge me to jerk off, which I've been trying to get rid off for some time now. Not that I'm addicted to it or anything, but sometimes, a guy gotta do what a guy gotta do.
I've met with partial success. Why would I want to stop this healthy practice of fondling myself, most of you would argue. Well, for one, it is against Islamic Injunctions. (Yeah sure,as if he's a saint) I may not be the most religious person on the planet, but I do try to incorporate Islamic principles in my life. Whether I'm successful or not in my endeavours is for God to judge.
So coming back to sex and movies, most of you would be thinking, 'Get a life, man!' You're old enough to get laid.' And my answer would be; premarital sex is forbidden in Islam. To which you'll reply( aren't we getting carried away in this?), 'you're hiding behind that because you don't have the balls or the opportunity to get laid.¡' Which brings me to a very interesting topic, an eye-opener for Pakistanis if they aren't aware of it as yet.The opportunities to get laid in Pakistan, especially Karachi, are endless. In fact the reverse is true: You have got to have balls not to get laid in Karachi! Literally every other locality is strewn with whore houses. And if that were not enough, one out of 10 girls you encounter would be ready to do it with you.
Yep.The ¡¥generation next¡¦ is blissfully engrossed in screwing around. It's not as widespread, but it's catching up with drug abuse, probably the most 'in' thing for the young and adult alike. It's getting tougher by the day to find a virgin bride, or even a virgin groom for that matter. So what's the most feasible solution to this dilemma? Sleep around! That way, if your spouse is not a virgin, you'll at least have the satisfaction of not being one yourself! (what a wacko dumbass!)Sick, isn't it? But this is the line of thinking you develop living in a sanctimonious society.
The other day a friend of mine called me up and said he needed advice on some serious stuff. Judging by the gravity of his voice, I went to see him pronto. When he explained the problem to me, I felt like killing him. And you would probably burst out laughing at this. A friend of his went to a brothel with another friend of his( is there a network of friends ?) where he struck a deal for just Rs.500 ( didn't I tell u it's damn easy? not to mention economical). Now the deal included one-time penetration of this lovely dame of not more than 25. This guy was taken aback by her beauty as well as her manners and all. Before they did it, they had a normal conversation just like two educated and mature people would have.
And this was the problem of this guy. He couldn't come to grips with the fact that a pretty and educated girl was working as a CSW(Commercial Sex Worker), that in the whole wide world this was all she could find to do, and that also in the 'Islamic Republic' of Pakistan.Now what the heck could I tell this guy? Here we are, faced with the dilemma whether to do it or not, and this guy gets to have a ravishing beauty and still complains. Guilty conscience pricks the mind. But does that constitute a major problem? One with which you bother other people? I mean, it's your own damn business, why would you want to let it out? I wouldn't.
I let my friend have a piece of my mind.
Now this incident took place in Nazimabad. But I can give instances of such stuff in any locality of Karachi you want.
One of the things we worry occasionally is what will happen when we go abroad and become pals with one of the locals. Surely, one way or the other the topic of sexual experience is going to crop up and even more surely, make us the laughing stock among them. After much procrastination, we have conjured up the shape these conversations could take if they do happen.
We could be having any normal conversation with our new friend until he delves into the dreaded interview:
"So, you got any chick back home?", he pops the question casually.
"Nope", comes the meek reply from me.
"Aw that sucks man. So, did you break up or was it her doing?" he prods further.
"Umm, actually I never had a girlfriend", embarrassment showing on my face.
"What?", he asks incredulously, "You mean never ever?""Uh huh""Man, this must suck big time" he goes on, refusing to let it go, "so how do you keep the monkey quiet? Isn't it dangerous to go for a hooker every time, what with all this AIDS bullshit going around?"
"Well, actually I've never gone all the way"
"No shit!"
"I shit you not", is all I can offer. But the prickly bastard doesn't let go even now.
"So you haven't gone all the way. That's cruel. But why? I mean, once you get into deep cuddling, the chicks' defences are all down. Why haven't you gone for the kill as yet?' I've been cornered badly; there's only one way out of this.
"Okay, it's like this. I've never been with a girl my entire life. Happy now?"
"Holy shit! Don't bullshit me man about this virgin crap. Not even smooching?"
"Nope."
"Friendly kiss?"
"No".This is getting humiliating.
"At least tell me you have seen a live naked chick"¨ he almost pleads.
"No no no."
"Loser!"And thankfully the ordeal will be over. Or worse:"Hey fellas, look what I've got here. A live male virgin!"
So yeah, being Islamic in the real sense isn't easy. You have got to have guts to take it all in your stride. Now you know the expanse of the gulf between Islam and other cultures. I compare Islam with cultures and not religions because all religions forbid adultery and the likes. Its just that people have manipulated their own religions to cater to their whims, and culture is just a term coined for manipulation. There is a world of difference between what religion teaches and what people practise, be it Christianity, Judaism or even Islam.