So I leave Pakistan with a bit of sadness, a lot of insight into myself and with these thoughts and tips.
1. My base is Lahore. No matter where my family has moved around from country to country, My identity is from my mom. I'm Lahori through and through. Why, you ask? I'm fat, Lahori. I'm gora fair, Lahori. I'm very loud, Lahori. I love my food, Lahori. I am funny, Lahori. I swear, Lahori. i tell dirty jokes, Lahori. I have a temper, Lahori. I didn't feel unsafe at all because if anyone messed around, I just would given them one tight slap. Lahori. I must have been born again once I'd seen it. I didn't think I would miss it so much. Lahore hi Lahore hain.
2. Etiquette. Pakistani's eat formally with a spoon and fork. Sometimes it's nice to eat roti with your hands but it's also nice to be a gentleman. Banda ban! I'm also never going to complain about a public washroom in North America.
3. Pakistanis do not drink black tea with milk in the evenings. At least not in the areas I visited. Chai is fine in mornings or even at tea time, but after dinner stick to kava, made with green tea and spices. I got the recipe, so if you thought my tea was good before...watch out! Got an awesome Kashmiri Tea recipe. Going to make it every morning. Masala chai, as good as mine is, is for tourists.
4. Keep receipts for everything. People hand you receipts for all kinds of things. Bags, parking whatever. Always hold on to them as you have to show them on the way out. It doesn't make any sense. Pay 20 rupees to park, got a receipt, go in, thank you. When I'm leaving why do I have to show the damn receipt again? How do you think I got passed the heavily armed guards to get in here in the first place. This used to drive Omar crazy!!
5. It's looks crazy, but driving in Pakistan has its own fantastic flow. Accidents are rare. Just focus on your own car, and never ever go backwards, no matter what. I drove once in Pakistan to prove my manhood to myself. But I'm also adult enough to never have to prove it again. I'd much rather have a driver, and sit in the back with a newspaper and Kashmiri tea. Also, donkeys are a very suitable and efficient mode of transportation. As long as you don't mind the smell.
6. Watch where you park. They use forklifts to tow you car. Nothing like seeing your rental car 20 feet in the air. Also why bother with a road block when a shipping container full of acid will do the same job at a fraction of the price. That'll stop traffic.
7. I have always loved and enjoyed my food, but I had so much great stuff on this trip. Always order the Malai chicken tikka boti, and never order the zafrani badami leg of anything. The longer the name,the stupider the dish. Also, anything makhani is great, especially the daal. Malai is awesome, but it needs a little sprinkle of sugar to go on top of it. The Paratha is the most beautiful thing in the whole world. The croissant can kiss my ass ( though i love you too). When I die, forget the 72 virgins, I want 72 Parathay. Now if these virgins could ALSO make me Parathay, I'm willing to compromise.
7b. Some guy just said I look like Adnan Sami before he got skinny. Shit I have gained so much weight. I better crawl back into a gym.
8. Family is family and we are all connected. I felt so much love from Omar's in laws that not for one second did I think that I was with my own inlaws' inlaws. Everyone is just family. I am taking Ruby aunty with me to Toronto. We spent one day without Aymen, and we really really felt the loss of her prescence, especially Cayden. But not just that. My cousin Aftab, who I rarely see, treated me better than a brother, and just kept on giving and giving. Even after I left for Pindi, he called me everyday to tell me he missed me. I love you Affie! In Rabwah, I thought some random aunty had come to visit me. It turns out she was my moms first cousin, and even in the short time we spent together, this lady who I never knew even existed, gave me so much love, and we were able to reminisce. At Bahishti Makbarah, I realized that many of us are from one big home in India. The Khulufah, Chaudhry sb, Dr. Salam, along with so many relatives of yours and mine lie in peace together. Now it's doesn't make me want to donate everything to Wasiyat, but I'm glad someone did.
8b. I miss my grandparents. All four of them. I also thank them for emigrating and suffering many hardships so I could grow up and write this stupid-ass blog!
9. Knowing Urdu is SO SO important for the next generation. A big reason my experiences have been so good is because I wasn't an idiot trying to speak English everywhere. Punjabi is not commonly used and Urdu is king. I'm 37, had never been to Pakistan, and still learned the language, so I know it's possible. Moreover, my parents speak perfect Canadian English, so Urdu was never imposed on us. I learned Urdu from the Khans, ShahRukh, Salman and Aamir, from Mr. Bachchan, from Mohammadi Rafi and Lataji, from Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Jagjit Singh. So if someone has a problem with my son listening to Rahat or watching Hindi films, come talk to me.
10. Do not fuck with the Pakistanis! This country should absolutely not under any circumstances exist. It is a mess. Sporadic electricity at best. Not enough gas to heat your home. Danger everywhere. Absolute corruption from top to bottom. Income is close to nonexistent. Political instability ever day. Dictatorships, military rule, assassinations. Complete lawlessness. But not only does this country continue to somehow work, and grow and progress, it will stand toe to toe with anyone. The Americans bombed the shit out of Afghanistan to find OBL, but when he turned up in Abbotabad (beautiful town I hear btw), they politely captured him, said sorry sorry and bye bye. India stands strong with a billion people, and missiles pointed, and Pakistan says mess with us and Mumbai becomes Boombai. We'll make a mcbc out of Delhi. I love India I think like a mother, but respect Pakistan like a father. How did they get their hands on a nuclear weapon? These people are crazy. In Lahore they will just slap you until you bleed, in Karachi they will hold a pistol to your eye and make you piss yourself. In Peshawar they actually will bend you over, pull down your shalwar, call you Salma, and make you their bitch!
That's it for me and Pakistan! Such a great holiday. Thanks for reading. Aisha's turn.
What a beautiful blog, Azhar. Who knew you could be so poetic? Have you read Ghalib? Or Iqbal? Try it in the original Urdu.
ReplyDeleteSee you all when you get back.
Best,
Naseer mamu