Diary of a Social Butterfly

The other day I got this phone call from UNKNOWN NUMBER. Hai, how exciting, I thought, as I answered with my most sultry, mysterious “hellowwww?” The voice asked, “who’s that?” Who’s that? Kya matlab, who’s that? “Who am I?” I asked shrilly, “If you don’t know me then you must be some kind of loser from outer space. Everyone knows me. All of Lahore knows me, all of Karachi, all of Isloo – and half of Dubai and all the attendants in Cosmetics at Harrods and all the bearers in Dorchester – everyone knows me, janaab!

“I live in Lahore in a big, fat house with a big, fat garden in Gulberg which is the place where all the well-offs from good baggrounds live. And don’t belief the Defence wallahs if they say, ‘no, no, Defence is better than Gulberg’ because they’re all Jay – oh ho, baba, Jealous – of all us khandani types. Anyways, we have ten servants – cook, bearer, two maids (one Filipino and one desi), two drivers, sweeper, mali and two guards who carry Kalashnikovs and watch GEO around the clock at the gate. All of these people look after me, Janoo – uff Allah, my husband – and Kulchoo, our son who’s teenager.

“Thanks God, Janoo’s mother The Old Bag, who’s widow, doesn’t live with us. She lives mostly in Sharkpur, Janoo’s village (he has lands from behind) and when in Lahore, she lives with Janoo’s sisters who I call The Gruesome Twosome or The Ugly Sisters as in Cinderella, depending on my mood. They’re always trying to do competition with me, not that they can because Mummy (my mother) and Aunty Pussy (my khala, who has a singleton son called Jonkers who I’m always trying to get married but problem is, he always falls for secretary types) say I’m unique, completely smart, sophisty and socialist –”

CLICK! Trrrrr ….

“Hello? Hello?” Can you belief it?! UNKNOWN NUMBER DIDN’T EVEN WAIT TO HEAR THE END OF MY DESCRIPTION OF MYSELF!