“Such a sweetoo he was, tall, handsome, parha likha, and so obedient and seedha and poor boy, he’s been phussaoed by this chalaak girl. Calling him day and night and making him dance on her isharas and making him do bezti of his mother. She’s tau totally hippo tized him. Like Kaa from Jungle Book. And she’s not even pretty from anywhere.”
“Must be doing kala jadoo only,” said Mulloo. ‘These type of girls, they are all into it, trapping rich innocent boys so that they become their ghulams.”
“I don’t think, so” I said, “that khandani girls are like this because, frankly, they don’t need to. It’s the ones from dheela baggrounds that are like this only.”
Sunny had been listening quietly but suddenly she said: “Don’t you think it’s strange how we always blame the girls? How the man is always seedha and shareef and the girl is always a witch? If it were not for her, the man would be an angel? If a man leaves his wife for another woman, it’s the woman’s fault. If a boy slaps his mother or pulls a gun on his father, it’s his wife’s fault.”
We were all quiet after Sunny’s out bust, thinking about what she’d said.
Finally Baby said, “You’re right. Remember how everyone used to attack poor Benazir about her personal life? The jhootha leaflets they chhaapoed of her in a miniskirt and scattered from helicopters? And even of poor Mrs Bhutto dancing? No male politician is treated same way.”
“Can you imagine”, asked Sunny, “if Benazir had been married three times and had an illegitimate child, that also from a gora man, and then she’d had the guts to ask for our votes, what we all would have said and done?”
Honestly, vaisay, when you think about it …. why are we like this, haan?