Diary of a Social Butterfly

Uff Lahore has become so bore, so bore kay don’t even ask. Aik too much of garmi and then oopar say nothing to eat. Na koi mustard is coming, na arty chokes, na cheeses, na smoked salman. Nothing. Thanks to Naya Pakistan. Even avocadoes are harder to find than good servants. When you get some you just want to stroke them – oho baba, avocadoes not servants – and then put them in a bowl in the middle of your dining room instead of buffets of flowers for everyone to admire and get jay. Sometimes I think I’m going to die of hunger. Or boredom. I don’t know which is worse. Feel so standed, honestly…

I could go to Karachi to see my friends Topsy and Teeny and all but I’m afraid I might die of humidity over there. You know the gandi vaali humidity where you’re sweating while you’re showering. And Nathia and all are out of question because they’ve been taken over by new rich types. All roaming around taking selfies and laughing loudly loudly.

Actually to be honest, khandanis like myself tau go to Europe and all in summers but Europe and all won’t have us these days na. Even Italy which hardly counts as Europe because it’s as hot as Multan in June won’t have us because we might be having Indians wallah Covid. I want to tell them Indians don’t even send us bad wibes these days forget about sending us Covid.

Anyways I was talking to Mulloo and she announced looking pleased as bunch kay she’s going abroad. ‘Haw, where?’ I asked. ‘Azhar Bhai Jaan,’ she said.

‘I don’t care with who you’re going. I want to know where’. ‘Oho baba, I’m telling to you na, Azhar Bhai Jaan’. ‘Listen Mulloo I know you don’t have a bhai jan called Azhar, tau stop joking okay and tell me seedha saaf’. ‘I’m going to Baku, Azhar Bhai Jan’. ‘Okay if you’re going to be funny then I’m hanging up.’

Afterwards I thought maybe Azhar Bhai Jan is her cousin brother but why she called him a Dakoo I don’t know.