Mulloo called me last Thursday, shrieking with excitement, asking if I was ready.
‘For what, bhai?’ I asked. My heart stank thinking that I might have missed a party. ‘For the massive protest, tomorrow. What else?’
Oh thanks God. A protest only. ‘Which one now?’ I asked sweetly.
‘Oho baba, the PM’s Kashmir protest. He’s asked us to stand for half an hour at midday…’ ‘For what?’ ‘To show world that we are standing with Kashmiris and we’re taking the fight to Modi…’ ‘By standing around in Gulberg?’
‘And shaming the ummah also into taking stand…’
‘Same ummah that’s given Modi a medal just now only?’
‘Will you stop interrupting?’ Mulloo shouted. Then she calmed down and said in normal voice, ‘So are you standing na?’ ‘Well, actually Mulloo,’ I said, ‘right now tau I’m sitting on the flush doing small bathroom…’ ‘You’re useless,’ she started shouting again. ‘It’s because of cowards like you who are too scared to fight that we’ve lost Kashmir. Traitor!’ And she banged down the phone.
Haw, look at her. Love for Imran has made her totally mantle. When did I say kay I was going to go do jihad in Kashmir, haan? It’s not as if I have tank shanks and atom bombs and what all. Those who have should go. No?
Anyways on Friday me and Sunny, we drove passed Mulloo’s house at midday just to see na. She was standing there sweating in the heat, with full make up shake up, as if waiting for TV crew to arrive. Her cook, maid and bearer were standing on road with her. Cook was wearing apron and carrying knife and bearer had a jhaarhan over his shoulder. Mali was quietly watering plants beside the gate. Rest of road was totally empty. When we drove passed five minutes later, they’d disappeared. Later that day she sent us a selfie on WA of her on her drive franked by cook, maid, gardener and bearer. ‘Took part in massive peaceful protest. Standing shoulder to shoulder with ordinary patriots. Our struggle will never end. Kashmir banay ga Pakistan!’
‘For what, bhai?’ I asked. My heart stank thinking that I might have missed a party. ‘For the massive protest, tomorrow. What else?’
Oh thanks God. A protest only. ‘Which one now?’ I asked sweetly.
‘Oho baba, the PM’s Kashmir protest. He’s asked us to stand for half an hour at midday…’ ‘For what?’ ‘To show world that we are standing with Kashmiris and we’re taking the fight to Modi…’ ‘By standing around in Gulberg?’
‘And shaming the ummah also into taking stand…’
‘Same ummah that’s given Modi a medal just now only?’
‘Will you stop interrupting?’ Mulloo shouted. Then she calmed down and said in normal voice, ‘So are you standing na?’ ‘Well, actually Mulloo,’ I said, ‘right now tau I’m sitting on the flush doing small bathroom…’ ‘You’re useless,’ she started shouting again. ‘It’s because of cowards like you who are too scared to fight that we’ve lost Kashmir. Traitor!’ And she banged down the phone.
Haw, look at her. Love for Imran has made her totally mantle. When did I say kay I was going to go do jihad in Kashmir, haan? It’s not as if I have tank shanks and atom bombs and what all. Those who have should go. No?
Anyways on Friday me and Sunny, we drove passed Mulloo’s house at midday just to see na. She was standing there sweating in the heat, with full make up shake up, as if waiting for TV crew to arrive. Her cook, maid and bearer were standing on road with her. Cook was wearing apron and carrying knife and bearer had a jhaarhan over his shoulder. Mali was quietly watering plants beside the gate. Rest of road was totally empty. When we drove passed five minutes later, they’d disappeared. Later that day she sent us a selfie on WA of her on her drive franked by cook, maid, gardener and bearer. ‘Took part in massive peaceful protest. Standing shoulder to shoulder with ordinary patriots. Our struggle will never end. Kashmir banay ga Pakistan!’