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‘Meri biwi ne MBA kiya aur mujhe chor diya’

There are conversations and then there are conversations. The other day, the morning after I had driven to the beach with a friend, my car seemed to be dragging.

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There are conversations and then there are conversations. The other day, the morning after I had driven to the beach with a friend, my car seemed to be dragging.

My friend had shrugged off my concerns, saying since temporal dislocation was my natural state of being, I could not be considered an authority on movement.

Pulling up at the tirewala I stuck my head out of the window and said, “aap mera pressure check kar lain gai?”

Ustadji: Main aap ka pressure check kar loon ga?
Me: Ji mujhay thora ajeeb sa lag raha hai.
Ustadji: Aap ko thora ajeeb sa lag raha hai?
Me: Meray khayal main meri hawa kum hai.
Ustadji: Aap kay khayal main aap ki hawa kum hai?

By this time we had an audience of grinning mechanics, chewing pan and nudging each other appreciatively at this display of their Ustad’s rapier wit. Turns out I had a total of 12 punctures, and the pressure in each tire was in its teens, instead of its late twenties or early thirties. That was a big surprise.

My estate agent, a larger than life Karachiite with hennaed hair, could not stop drooling at my husband as he showed us through what is now my flat. After I moved in, he called to ask a question about the lease.

Me: Aap Sahib say pooch lain na.
Agent: To aap please baat kara dijiyay.
Me: Bilkul, aap unko unkay apnay ghar pai phone kar lain aur aap ki baat ho jayay gi.
Agent: Kya matlab Madam?
Me: Mera matlab hai ki yeh mera ghar hai, aur wo unka ghar hai.
Agent: Aap kya keh rahi hain Madam!
Me: Main keh rahi hoon kay hamari alaidgi (separation) ho gayi hai.
Agent: Nahin Madam nahin! Aap yeh naan kahain! Menay ussi din ghar ja kay apni Missus ko aap dono ki misaal di thi. Itna accha couple hai, itna pyar hai, itna khoobsurat aadmi! Kyoon?
Shahid kyoon ki...
Me: Aaj kal ki ladkiyoon main woh bardasht nahin rahi. Thora bohat par likh leti hain aur bas kisi kay nakhray uthanay kay liyain tayar hi nahin.
Agent: Aap ki baat bilkul sahi hai. Meray jo pehli biwi thi, us nay bhi MBA kar liya, phir mujhay chor diya. Mainay uss say kaha tum karo gi kya? Kheti hai, main job karoongi! Job!
There was a slight pause.
Madam aap job to nahin kar rahin?
Me: Allah na karay Yunus Bhai Allah na karay.

A friend just returned from Mumbai after a three day course on branding. “I don’t like that place,” he said.

“Why?,” I asked. “People think if you don’t speak English you don’t matter.” I wonder if that’s true.

(Shandana Minhas is a Karachi-based writer, her first novel, Tunnel Vision, is published by Roli Books, India)

 

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