An innie in an outie’s world
Growing up, I was such a quiet child, especially compared to my loud, older sisters that my parents would often forget me. They sometimes failed to remember they had a third child. Once, they lost me at a supermarket and realised it when the store manager called. Had it not been for him, I’d be a feral child living in aisle six gorging on cereal and candy bars for the rest of my life. No offense to my parents, they just didn’t know what to do with a little person like me. Innately introverted Had someone explained to them that I was innately ...
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Whitney Houston: Tunes for a lifetime
Long before YouTube gave us instant access to all of our favourite music, my older sister and I would wait for the videos of our preferred artists to appear on televised music countdowns and record them on a videocassette so we could watch them over and over again. We would replay the tunes on the family room VCR and, along with our younger sister, often try to mimic the notes and dance moves of our most-loved musicians. When I learned of Whitney Houston’s death, my mind almost instantly turned to that videotape because there was a song of hers that we ...
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10 reasons why childhood beats adulthood
Ever wonder why children don’t have frown lines and why they always seem happy? Why are adults, so often on-edge and grumpy? Caught in today’s busy lifestyle with ever increasing responsibilities, grown-ups don’t have time to languish in the pleasures that once excited them as children. Regardless, reminiscing about the carefree days provides one with at least a nostalgic smile. I am sure every one of you probably has their own fond memories. However, here is my list of why I believe childhood is better than adulthood, and I hope it takes you back to the days when life was ...
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If Harry Potter were desi, his broom would be a jharoo and his Snitch a laddoo
Harry Potter’s last film is coming out (in Pakistan) on July 22 and somewhere in semi-peaceful parts of Karachi, not shown on TV, a couple of kids are getting ready for the biggest event of their lives. If their city will allow them to. When Harry Potter’s last book was released, bookshops around the world were told to release Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at exactly the same time, lest some overeager fan typed up the book on the internet and ruined it for everyone by not operating on GMT. That meant at 4:30 am every book outlet in Karachi ...
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“Death is better than divorce”
When I heard that Nariman*, my bubbly childhood friend, was back in town, I was overjoyed beyond belief. I looked forward to a time full of fun and laughter and doing every thing under the sun. When we were younger, I actually believed that sitting still caused Nariman physical pain, because she was always so excited. But three years after her wedding, she sits old and haggard, her eyes devoid of all laughter, her gait lacking spirit, and her voice like a mere rustle of dead leaves on parched mud. What led to the transition is not the fact that ...
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With Moin Akhtar, a piece of my childhood dies
Those who remember the 80s well will also be familiar with the brilliance that existed on Pakistan Television (PTV) at that time. In days of severe censorship and fear of the government, PTV (especially its Karachi centre) always found ways of subverting the system and poking fun at the dictator and his lackeys. There were three names, Anwar Maqsood, Bushra Ansari and Moin Akhtar, who were the mainstay of such satire where things had to be said subtly in order pass through the censor board. In a rather twisted bit of irony, PTV’s golden days of comedy died with Ziaul ...
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What the **** did you just say?
Every family has different rules for their children and mine is no different. One of the most important rules is that no rude words are allowed to be spoken in our house. To my surprise, my kids eagerly follow this rule. If they hear a new word, they always ask me whether it is bad. The other day, both my kids came up to me and said “Mama, are we allowed to say ‘what the ****?” When I asked where they had heard these words, they told me they hear them everywhere. They told me that even the kids in their class use this ...
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My Egypt moment wasn’t when the protests started or when they ended. It wasn’t during CNN’s live coverage, and it wasn’t in the 100 or so ‘Can this happen in Pakistan?’ discussions. It was when someone casually yelled out in the school corridor, “Hey Meiryum! Your hometown’s burning!” Cairo was my hometown. Tahrir Square was a 45-minute drive from my apartment. I lived in Cairo from the age of four till eight years – four years of my life. I was old enough to remember and store away memories and young enough to still understand nothing. My first day at the ...
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Eid was more fun in the ’90s
Back in the days when nunna, my maternal grandmother, was alive, Bakra-Eid used to be something else. Come morning all us cousins, aunts and uncles would head to her house. The older cousins were dressed to the nines, the aunts wore kitchen friendly clothes and soon the delicious aroma of a million things cooking on the stove pushed out any sadness for sacrificed animals. The fest started at breakfast. Or should I say brunch? It was served only after the sacrifice was performed. But we didn’t mind. We acted grossed out by the raw meat and put on an air of reluctance. But when ...
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