Ittefaq Nama

Ittefaq Nama
Mother of all Judgments is awaited/and my breath is abated/I am poet/and I know it/What will be will be/Qaisera Qaisera. Your bhabi is asking, “who Qaisera is?” Oh ho, nobody, I said. It is Italian. Must be Italian lady.

I told my kitchen cabinet that Their Lordships are sending me messages in convoluted farm, can you translate into simple language far me? What is meaning when they say that people who live in glass horses should not threw stones. Dar Saab said, “its mean that individuals who make their abodes in vitreous edifices would be advised to refrain from catapulting perilous projectiles.”

Uff! Ok, I said to Sartaj Saab, what do Their Lordships mean when they say: twinkle, twinkle, little star. He said, “Scintillate, scintillate, asteroid minima.”

I slapped my forehead. I told Shbaz Saab to articulate their another message straightly, “All that glitters is not gold”. He said, “All articles that coruscate with resplendence are not truly auriferous.”

Hai, hai! Dear Abbaji In Heaven! Why nobody can talk straight to me about what is in minds of Their Lordships? I said to Rana Sanaullah, that Rana Saab, I am sure you are plain speaking person. Haw you will render this message: dead men tell no tales. He replied, “Dear Mian Saab, Their Lordships are saying that male cadavers are incapable of rendering any testimony.”

In desperation, I tried Chory Nisar Saab. Please, I said, translate this convoluted message: where there’s smoke, there’s fire! He disturbedly pronounced, “Where there are visible vapours having their provenance in ignited carbonaceous material, there is conflagration.”

Is that SO?! Well then, I said, the person presenting the ultimate cachinnation possesses thereby the optimal cachinnation. They all looked at me in puzzling manner. “HE WHO LAUGHS LAST, LAUGHS BAST!”