Such a big tamasha’s going on in our house these days kay don’t even ask. It’s about qurbani for big Eid. You know na that at every bakra Eid Janoo distributes money equals to cost of two big fat bakras among the poors of Sharkpur. He says it’s sub say best to give money to poors so they can spend however they like. In any case, Janoo’s mother, The Old bag, tau gives a bakra for us because she is quite oldish in her taur tareeqas. And just as well because I’m very supercilious and scared of nazar. I think so if Allah Mian has said a bakra then Allah Mian must mean a bakra. But I’m also a little bit sensitive and I don’t like all that sad bleating and so much of blood in my house. So although oopar say I tell to Janoo kay haan bhai we should give money only, inside I’m happy kay the Old Bag is doing proper bakray ki qurbani for us.
Anyways this year we were also doing same but then Aunty Deeba happened. She’s Mummy’s cousin from her father’s side na and in her day she was a roving beauty. Everyone who was everyone in Karachi was luttoo over her – judges, politicians, businessmen, generals, feudals, hur koi. When she used to swish into Sindh Club in her chiffon hipster saris in the ’70s, they say even the crows would fall silent in admiration. Deeba the Divine, that’s what they called her. Her admirers baba, not the crows.
In the last few years Aunty Dee’s looks have faded. Withered neck and thinning hairs. But luckily for her she’s been born again. Beehive has been deplaced by hijab and sari by abayah. She’s now the resident authority on religion and is always giving everyone lectures. These days it’s about how to do bakra Eid. Mummy says “Deeba always had great timing. Religion appeared in her life just as the admirers left.”
Anyways this year we were also doing same but then Aunty Deeba happened. She’s Mummy’s cousin from her father’s side na and in her day she was a roving beauty. Everyone who was everyone in Karachi was luttoo over her – judges, politicians, businessmen, generals, feudals, hur koi. When she used to swish into Sindh Club in her chiffon hipster saris in the ’70s, they say even the crows would fall silent in admiration. Deeba the Divine, that’s what they called her. Her admirers baba, not the crows.
In the last few years Aunty Dee’s looks have faded. Withered neck and thinning hairs. But luckily for her she’s been born again. Beehive has been deplaced by hijab and sari by abayah. She’s now the resident authority on religion and is always giving everyone lectures. These days it’s about how to do bakra Eid. Mummy says “Deeba always had great timing. Religion appeared in her life just as the admirers left.”