Tag Archives: pakistan

Through a Domestic lens: The Actual Pakistan

I recently came across a very well written article that highlighted the “other” side of Pakistan. (Link: http://www.dawn.com/news/1118136/the-other-pakistan) The article had some very nice pictures. Being brought up on the streets of Nazimabad, the only Pakistan I ever knew was the one that was known as the middle class. So I naturally came to terms with the fact that many of the aforementioned pictures were too heavy for me to comprehend. Think of my middle class brain as a slow internet connection that only loads 25% of the ‘Pakistani Ufone Sexy Model Asma’ picture that some “friend” has sent you in an email. Moreover, as I read further into the article, I realized that the pictures were only the tip of the pen..err…iceberg. The article seemed to have been written in an entirely different language. I mean I could read the alphabets. My middle class school taught me that much. But the meaning behind these mystically alien words were beyond my cretin understanding. By the time I finished, I had fallen deep into a state of existential crisis. “What Pakistan is this?” “What Pakistan am I living in?” “Why is there no mention of a Suzuki Mehran in the article?” “HerbX Enlargement Pill 0333 – 1234567!” Questions and thoughts like these kept popping up in my head. Over the next few hours, I had lost my appetite, my sleep and missed 37 calls from my jaanu. But it had to stop. And so, I set out on a 15 minute adventure to understand the sorcery that I had just been a victim of. 17 minutes later, I realized the article was a load of shit. It was twisted, misleading and downright insulting. I wasn’t okay with the way Pakistan was being portrayed. What percentage of the population did the stories in the article represent? I’d tell you what. The size of the ingrown hair on my left nut. And so, I have compiled a humble list of images that portray what me and a majority of my middle classed associates (fancy word for janis, cousins, rishtedars and next gali ke cricket team) actually do. I might be wrong but the last time I checked, a huge chunk of us still had papa double roti for breakfast and the only time we had a macaroon was when our khala cooked Shan ke macaroni.


Ladies and gentleman, behold, the average Pakistani.


Pani Ke Shadeed Qillat


An average Pakistani kicks his tap after a 3 day long water shortage in Karachi. Even the water in the puddle on the street has dried up by now and so, the kick. July 2014

Bijli ke jugarein


Homemade electrician, average Pakistani tries to mess with the phases in his electric box. The kunda outside his house are in full support of his actions. Karachi Electric, however, will shortly be issuing an arrest warrant for him. Him and millions of others just like him. July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March, April, May, June of forever.

Gym and swimming. Lol.


Educationalist and bathroom model, average Pakistani standing next to the “pool” of water in his bathroom after an incredible workout provided by fixing the kunda outside his house. The water shortage has ended, BTW. For now.

Maid in Pakistan


The average Pakistani Middle class boy texts his friend asking for 20 rs balance while putting the ripoff Aquafina water bottle on the bottle stand. He is waiting for this job to end so he can have some water.

Chilling in room


The average Pakistani reads a magazine in his bedroom cum drawing room cum store room while having a nice cup of tea.

Getting ready


An average wardrobe before trying to get ready for a party (birthday) and not having a fucking clue about what to wear.



Doing pillates while fixing a bulb. Typical Pakistani El O El.

Hey man. I think my izaarhband is showing.


And finally, some climbing. The caption of this photo is a dilemma. This could either be the result of the Pakistani boy jumping into a house to fetch the cricket ball that his friend occidentally threw in or the same Pakistani boy trying to escape the house after being seen and caught by the uncle of the house who suspects the boy jumped in, bringing a rishta for the uncle’s Urdu science college going daughter. Eitherway, great exercise. The trainer cannot be seen in the picture though. That pussy has disappeared for good.


Brb. Going for tarawih now.


Because screw you, chuppan chupai and screw you, baraf pani.

Yesterday, a friend and I were driving back home from another friend’s place and we spotted a bunch of individuals waving guns in the air. For a fraction of a minute, I hit the brakes and we practically shat our, carefully ironed, white shalwars, only to realize it was a bunch of kids playing with guns that, curses be on China, looked very, very real. All of a sudden it was funny. I mean a 3 foot tall human form waving 2 very big guns in the air and screaming at anything that resembles a possible “target”? It’s cute. Especially when you fall for it. But what I fell into, instead, was this constant state of frustration as I realized just how conveniently these kids were being exposed to the gun culture and how the sweet concept of Eidi that was once used to acquire icecream, gurya k baal and possibly chooran chatnis had now transformed into getting funds to “arm” yourself so you can “protect the hood”. Possible enemies: Moving cars, birds, stray dogs and colorful pedestrians. I managed to get a hold of one of these brats and he told me he needed the gun because, “hum jung-jung kheltay hein”. Now a lot of people tend to call me pessimistic. And maybe they aren’t exactly wrong but hey, this shit is 97 miles north of being “okay”. How is it that a child goes out with a lot of cash, gets a toy gun, “shoots” the whole world with it and then brings it home and manages to get away with it? Mom? Dad? Anyone give a damn? Even in the shittiest of Bollywood movies, the dying mother of the very violent, Suneil Shetti/Sanjay Dutt-ish, protagonist urges her son to keep his act together and be good, obviously referring to how it’s not okay to play “jung-jung” with the villain and his infinite stock of respawning henchmen. I don’t have kids, and so, obviously, I can’t be the right person to judge the general quality of parenting in our country but I do know when something is about to go terribly wrong and a kid brandishing a toy weapon and feeling happy about it is just not the kind of thing I am very optimistic about. With target killings and terrorist attacks and hate crimes and what not, the last thing we need is a child convinced in his head that it’s okay to carry a firearm and shoot your best friends with it.

Save yourself. Save the children.

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