When I was small, every time I went out to play keerrhi kaarrha, Mummy used to say,

‘Parrho gey likho gey, bano gey nawab
Khelo gey koodo gey, ho gey kharab’

That was another thing, apart from her love for General Musharraf and Pan Parag, that Mummy got wrong. Just look at David Backem and Tiger Wood and Roger Federal, and that footballer, what’s his name, haan Ronaldo, and how rich and famous they’ve become.

I bet you anything that the parrhaaku kid, who sat in the front and came top in mantle arithmetic and chemistry when he was all in class seven, he’s dhakkay khaowing in some small dusty lab somewhere, doing measly little experiments no one knows or cares about. While they are doing adds for watches and cars and coke even (the kind you drink, not sniff, okay?), and hanging out with other celebs, like MBS and Anna Winter and George Colony vaghera, and attending Mat Ball and sitting in front row of Paris Fashion Week and being chief guests at I.V. League graduations.

In this doggy dog world, you have to get your priorities right. So, bus, I’ve decided. I’m going to pull Kulchoo out of school and put him into sports. I’m going to make an Arshad Nadeem out of him, so he can get plots and cash and cars and fame and medals and wah wah wherever he goes.

And like Covid19, he can go viral and have hashtag. And knowing Kulchoo, he probably won’t sit in front row of Prada, but maybe they’ll name airports and stadiums and roads after him, and ministers and generals vaghera will jostle to have photo ops with him.

The recent misfortunes of a Bangladeshi PM and a Pakistani general have compelled Butterfly to imagine a less perilous profession for her budding offspring

I told Janoo this and he asked what sport was I thinking of thrusting Kulchoo into. “He can throw a danda like Arshad Nadeem did or he can do rowing showing, or even shooting like that cool Turkish uncle, if he likes, but basically he can do whatever,” I said. “As long as he wins and becomes a celeb. That’s all.

“Now, look at Imran,” I said. “He won the World Cup and the awaam was so grateful, they put him into the Prime Minister’s House.”

“And now look where Imran’s been put,” he said.

Aik tau Janoo na, he can never look on the bright side.

Vaisay, talking of bright side, Hasina must be thinking kay, thanks God, I managed to escape Bangladesh when I did. Reminds me of Uncle Cockup, Aunty Pussy’s husband, who was working in Dhaka and took the last flight out in December ’71 just before Dhaka fell down.

Hasina tau is sitting mazay se in India as a VIP guest, whereas Uncle Cockup had to come home to Lahore to Aunty Pussy and do sauda and car service. I thought they didn’t welcome Muslims in India these days unless they were from sandy type places, but Hasina must be having some special understanding with Moody. Peechhay se.

Meanwhiles, her palace in Dhaka is being rain sacked. Protestors have stolen her bras and fishes and taken selfies of themselves in her sarees. Luckily, same fate did not befall Aunty Pussy, who had left two months earlier in ’71, and being Aunty Pussy, not left behind even a fish bone, let alone a whole fish, for anyone to looto. Bangladeshis have also fallen out of love with her father, Mujeeb (not Aunty Pussy’s father but Hasina’s), who they are now garlanding his statues in jooton kay haar.

Funny vaisay, how quickly the definition of a traitor can change. Yesterday, Mujeebur Rehman was Bangladesh’s hero and today he is their villain. And General Faiz Hameed was Patriot Number One and today, he is behind bars, and voh bhi not the liquidy kinds.

Mulloo was quick to say that his arrest was because of some infernal army matter and nothing at all to do with PTI, but others are saying kay the reason why he’s been picked up is because of his ultra closeness with PTI. Other retired generals have also been picked up for same reason. Bhai, I tau don’t know what’s what. All I can say is this: I’ve changed my mind about Kulchoo becoming a general and wearing a vardee and doing raj.

No baba, best is if he becomes an Arshad Nadeem instead of a Faiz Hameed or even a Hasina Begum. Less risky. Janoo says some God-given talent is also required to become an Arshad Nadeem and I said, “Voh baad ki baat hai, hum dekh lain gey.” Or as my maalish vaali says, we will adjust.

Vaisay, always such a downer, Janoo!

Published in Dawn, EOS, August 25th, 2024