You tau know that I’m not a sportsman from anywhere, but Janoo and Kulchoo have suffered from such bad World Cup fever for the whole of this last month kay even I have become infested with it.

I watched that Egypt worses Argentina match, in which the Egyptians played football and the Argentines played kabaddi. Empire had hundred percent khaaoed rishwat because majaal hai that he should notice for one minute even what the Argentines were up to? And despite of the Argentines’ rondi, when the Egyptians did goal, he went and cancelled it. What cheeks, no?

And if he hadn’t taken rishwat, then that empire was an Islamoprobe. Like Trump and Elon Must and Nigel Faraar. Or maybe he was an Israeli agent. Mulloo says he wanted to make Argentina win because the Argentine president is besties with Satanyahoo (I thought Satanyahoo was besties with Modi. Maybe he’s a two-timer. Typical, waisay!) And Satanyahoo sent a message supporting Argentina and saying kay we are fully behind you. While everyone knows kay all of Spain and their sweet sa, handsome sa president is pukka pukka with Palestinians.

Although nothing happened for the longest time, the game was very tense. All of the time I was worrying and praying kay please Allah Mian, don’t let Isra… sorry, I mean, Argentina score.

Butterfly doesn’t have to understand football to catch the fever, especially when every match comes with family arguments, celebrity spotting, geopolitical conspiracies and one very stubborn American president

So, when half time came, frankly, I tau was reliefed. But as soon as all of that gaana bajaana and dhol dhamaka began, both Janoo and Kulchoo grumbled kay what is this nonsense? We want to see football, not Robby Williams poured into a sequelled suit and Tom Crooz, looking as bloated as if he’d drowned or something. Janoo tau has always been a killed joy and a zinda laash, but he’s also turned my poor darling Kulch into a teenage buddhi rooh.

So I told them in my best Mother Andrews voice, kay bus, chill karo, okay? I want to now relax and do some celeb spotting araam se in the break.

So I saw the Beckhams and Beyond Say and Mic Jagger and Matt Diamond and that Dune movie wala actor with Kylie Janitor — but even I had to admit kay the half time show they put on was so cheap and trashy kay if, God forbid, we’d had it at Kulchoo’s wedding, I would have pretended I was the susraal.

And uff! Have you seen what’s happened to Madonna? She is now Mummy’s age lug bhug. If Mummy was to wear mini-skirts and phussa hua tops and thigh-high boots, I’d tell everyone I was adopted. I really feel for poor Lords. Oho baba, her daughter, who else? And that Justin Beeba in that clown vaali knicker. Waisay, what’s happened to America?

So, when the show ended and football started, I also did shukar. And then, thanks God, Spain scored and Argentina and Satanyahoo and Israel got two tight slaps in their faces. As they deserved. And sub se best, Trump had to present the cup to Spain. Another tight slap. Why? Haw, don’t you know kay he’s very anti-Spain, because they didn’t take his side in the war with Iran and they wouldn’t let him land his fighter planes over there? At least that’s what Janoo says and Janoo, being an Oxen and a kitaab ka keerra, is very knowing, naa.

Haan, so where was I? Oh yes! With Trump on the stage. Okay, so you’ve presented the medals and the cup vaghera, now go home with Melonia, baba. But no. Being the besharam retention seeker that he is, he tau wouldn’t leave the stage once he’d got on.

Like an elderly drunk uncle barging a shaadi ka dance number, and insisting on doing thumkaas with all the young girls in their ghagras and cholis, he kept hanging around on stage, once or twice even trying to dance, while the players totally ignored him. Finally, that football ka president, who Janoo and Kulchoo have named Sycofantino, he rushed on to the stage in his black suit and white PT shoes and led Trump away, like you would a runaway cow.

I’m still upset about Egypt but I’m so glad America didn’t win, even after cheater-cock Trump’s dhandli. And now it’s all over and I can’t believe it, but I’ve got withdrawal systems. Because thanks to Janoo and Kulchoo’s obsession, even I’ve become a pukka sportsman. Who would have guessed? Haan?

Many years ago, @monimohsinofficial, novelist and journalist, outed herself as The Social Butterfly

Published in Dawn, EOS, July 26th, 2026