Diary of a Social Butterfly

Chalo ji, we are on the blink of war again. With who? Oho baba with the Indians. The Indians are shouting themselves horse that we’ve murdered 17 of their soldiers in Kashmir. They say our fundos sneaked across the boarder while their soldiers slept and set fire to their tents, threw grenades and did a lot of khoon kharaba. And we say ‘haw hai, our tau farishtas don’t even know what you’re talking about. In any case, where’s the proof, haan?’ Indians are saying we know you did. You always do. And we are saying we didn’t. We never do. So it’s going:

‘Did.’

‘Didn’t.’

‘Did.’

‘Didn’t.’

Janoo says steaks are high. Because we both have nuclear weapons. And then a terrifying thought occurred to me: ‘Janoo,’ I asked, ‘does this mean I can’t go to India this winters?’ ‘They won’t be falling over themselves to grant us visas any time soon’. ‘Hai but I wanted to go buy some Rohit Bal outfits for Minxy’s son’s wedding. Also my friend, Bubbles Malhotra, she’s throwing up a tabahi party for her husband’s fiftieth. Suna hai, Shahrukh Khan might also be coming … Oh no, it’s not fair. Can’t we do sullah?’

Then I called Sunny and did rona dhona with her. And she said:

‘You are crying? You know Deenu, Akbar’s cousin’s son? He’s marrying a Hindu girl he met at university in America. Her family’s from Bombay only. Big chakkar boy and girl had for six years but both families refused flat. But finally they’ve agreed and said okay baba kar lo phir. Wedding was to be in three months, half here, half there. Now God knows what’ll happen. Deenu’s mother has even had the joras made, paid the event manager, bought air tickets and booked hotels in Bombay and pata nahin kya kya. Bechari, she’s at her bits end.’

After that I felt better. Chalo, if war happens at least I haven’t lost any money on tickets shickets and hotels vaghera. As Mother Rosario at the Convent used to say, always look on the bright side.