Howzzat

Howzzat
I’m thinking of changing the initials of the PTI to BBCDs – British Born Confused Desis, of which my party is now full to overflowing. As you know, we’ve just acquired a fresh BBCD, ex Governor Punjab Chaudhry Sarwar. He was also a bus conductor or something like that when he first immigrated to Britain and he has a wonderful rags to riches story like Prameshwar Godrej who was an airhostess, immortalized in William Dalrymple’s famous award winning novel “From The Trolley To The Lolly”. For the office of party president, vacated by Javed Hashmi, I’ve recently interviewed another BBCD with enormous potential. She was wearing a T-shirt with “GUESS” written on top. “Implants?” I ventured. The other BBCD to have joined my crew recently is my wife Reham who hails from Peshawar via Birmingham. It was wonderful to see the camaraderie between Reham and Sarwar. “’Allo luv”, they said to each other, “’ow bout a pint – of mewk – after work?” Then they exchanged high fives and proceeded to eat chicken tikka masala, Britain’s national dish. Then they caught fish in the Rawal Lake and fried it with chips, rolled it in old newsprint and ate it with vinegar, just like in Blighty. Then they said to each other, “Eat roight. Stay fit. Doi anyway” and laughed uproariously. After dinner, Reham offered Sarwar coffee. “Naw fanks mate”, he replied, “it’s not me cuppa tea” and they both laughed hysterically again. I wonder why. I’ve had another tiff with Altaf Hussain. He is so very stupid. Trouble with being stupid is you feel like a genius all the time. I should know. Anyway, he uttered an assortment of stupid things amongst which was calling Shirin Mazari something rude (not frog) and said “sorry” later. He also called my women supporters ladies of the night. He must’ve read my thoughts and what passes for my mind. But here’s the golden rule – only I am allowed to insult women. The trouble with people like Altaf is that they think sex is the answer to everything. In fact, sex is the question. “Yes” is the answer.