Aaj kal we are in France only. When it came to planning summer holiday, I said to Janoo: ‘aap nay London ka flat book kar liya hai na?’ To which he said, ‘I’m sick of going to London. Trawling the sales and hanging out with the likes of Sunny, Bunty and Dolly. As if we don’t get to see them 24/7 in Lahore.’
Pehlay tau I thought I’d throw a tantrump about London but then I thought kay better let him do a choti si chutti somewhere else first and then go to London.
So, we are in France, not in Paris but in some bore pind in the backs of beyond. Apparently all the khaata peetas in Paris leave in summers and go to their summer houses in Province or Coat dee Zore. Chalo I thought Niece ya Cans dekh lain gay. Apparently there also they have nice, nice shops of Channel and Prada Shada but Janoo doesn’t even like Coat. He says it’s full of Russian Oily Garks and their trashy girls friends. So I’m sarrhoing in a country kothi near a town called Aches dee Province. Ghar tau accha hai with swimming pool and lawns shawns and thanks God a woman comes to cook and clean but in every other way I could be in Sharkpur only. Only difference is that instead of neems there have pines here and instead of Punjabi all the naukars speak French. Haan and in place of daal and chappatis they eat baggits and snails. Bus. Otherwise it’s got as many mosquitos and silence and garmi as Sharkpur. Also it’s equally as bore. Janoo and Kulchoo swim and go to the market to buy sabzis vaghera. They keep asking me to join them but I told them that if I wanted to saarho my complexion and hang out at sabzi mandis, I would have gone to Juma bazaar in Lahore okay? But yesterday evening when we went to Aches for dinner, I spotted a Prada ki dukaan. So maybe there’s potential here after all. And then I remembered what Mummy says: ‘Dhoondnay say tau khuda bhi mil jata hai.’
Pehlay tau I thought I’d throw a tantrump about London but then I thought kay better let him do a choti si chutti somewhere else first and then go to London.
So, we are in France, not in Paris but in some bore pind in the backs of beyond. Apparently all the khaata peetas in Paris leave in summers and go to their summer houses in Province or Coat dee Zore. Chalo I thought Niece ya Cans dekh lain gay. Apparently there also they have nice, nice shops of Channel and Prada Shada but Janoo doesn’t even like Coat. He says it’s full of Russian Oily Garks and their trashy girls friends. So I’m sarrhoing in a country kothi near a town called Aches dee Province. Ghar tau accha hai with swimming pool and lawns shawns and thanks God a woman comes to cook and clean but in every other way I could be in Sharkpur only. Only difference is that instead of neems there have pines here and instead of Punjabi all the naukars speak French. Haan and in place of daal and chappatis they eat baggits and snails. Bus. Otherwise it’s got as many mosquitos and silence and garmi as Sharkpur. Also it’s equally as bore. Janoo and Kulchoo swim and go to the market to buy sabzis vaghera. They keep asking me to join them but I told them that if I wanted to saarho my complexion and hang out at sabzi mandis, I would have gone to Juma bazaar in Lahore okay? But yesterday evening when we went to Aches for dinner, I spotted a Prada ki dukaan. So maybe there’s potential here after all. And then I remembered what Mummy says: ‘Dhoondnay say tau khuda bhi mil jata hai.’