Hello! Cliftonia requested Gen GHQ, the Republic’s most unaccountably revered personage, to allow its readers a peek into his busy but wondrous world and share with them what a day in his deeply fulfilling life looks like.

5:45 am Turned off alarm. As a result, I am woke.

5:46 am Have given myself marching orders to the latrine.

6:45 am Having bench-pressed, dumb-belled and tread-milled myself through a thoroughly invigorating gym session, am now waiting to be served my traditional weekend breakfast of soldierly cornflakes, halwa, paratha, pancakes, croissants and bagels. As someone who takes meticulous care of his diet, I ensure that I do not exceed my daily sanctioned intake of hydrocarbates or as my personal trainer likes to call them: “the deadly carbs”. I used to enjoy eating half a dozen puris in the good old days but, ever since the Indians went rogue, I just can’t bear to taste anything called puri. (This notwithstanding the fact that some of my favourite actors — Om and Amrish — had a puri appended to their names).

7:55 am Having finished my breakfast, I order the table to be cleaned. And voila! Everything immediately disappears as if it had never existed.

Gen GHQ provides a peek into his busy but wondrous world in the Republic of Cliftonia

8:00 am Off for my daily constitutional. As everyone knows, we soldiers can’t imagine it ever being treated cavalierly … certainly not a concept to be chucked into the dustbin.

10:00 am Since it’s my weekend, decide to spend quality time with the family and see what the young’ uns are up to in school and how many of their curricular activities are extra.

10:02 am Done!

10:03 am Going into a meeting with a famous writer slash director. Having just finished a 627-episode drama serial on the life and times of young cadets, I have now given the go-ahead to produce an action-packed thriller involving uniformed saviours fighting the evil machinations of the Republic’s perennial enemies: pseudo lib women in cahoots with the international yahood-o-hanood mafia. Proud to oversee the story and the dialogues and even prouder of some of the killer one-liners I’ve come up with, which our Rambo will use to emasculate the diabolical traitors amongst us, especially nefarious academics and their seditious students.

1:30 pm Taking a light lunch while I peruse the local and international newspapers. The Urdu press, as always, is professional and patriotic. Other than a column here and some misinformed reportage there, even our English media has finally started to display journalistic ethics. However, there is a particular Sunday op-ed writer getting on my nerves. The man constantly whines and moans about the general state of affairs despite having no knowledge of how the armed forces in Cliftonia or around the world, work.

2:30 pm Done with lunch. Done with whiny op-ed writer. Both disappear as if they never existed.

2:31 pm Retire to bedroom for a brief siesta. Switch on iTunes for my daily dose of Wagner as his music lulls me to sleep.

4:42 pm Dreamt I was selected by Nick Fury as a team member of the Avengers. Captain America and I are paired to go into a remote part of Afghanistan, on a covert mission to destroy Loki’s secret underground lair built via a third-party contract by Abdullah Abdullah & Associates. As usual, Captain America doesn’t know his arse from his elbow and I am forced not only to clean up his mess but also pretend as if I care about the collateral damage I’ve caused. The scenes change at a Dali-esque pace and, as the mission is about to be accomplished, the alarm goes off and I am jolted awake. I take a deep breath, recover my composure and issue orders for tea and rusks.

5:30 pm I am joined for tea by National Icon and Hope Nazir Jr, Prime Minister of our glorious Republic; Justice Ifti, the Supreme Judicial of our beloved land; and Jimmy Jirga, Minister of State for Dual Nationality and Undeclared Overseas Assets. Why am I forced to micromanage everything? Why must I tolerate such incompetence? Why can’t I make them all just disappear?

8:00 pm Dinner time with Mullah Do Piazza, General Secretary of the Jamiat Ulema-i-Cliftonia (JUC). Briefed him on the previous meeting. Exchanged notes. He brought gifts for me and your bhabi: a matching set of his and her gold tasbeehs. Bless!

10:30 pm Knackered after a gruelling day of mentally debilitating work. It’s exhausting to be the king. Finally tucked myself into bed to watch Love is Blind on Netflix. Shab bakhair.

Farid Alvie was born. He currently lives.
He tweets @faridalvie

Published in Dawn, EOS, March 15th, 2020