Only On Eid…

Only on Eid-ul-Azha do you…

…have to wipe and dust every surface in preparation of everyone coming over. And then some.

…make your annual visit to the bakra mandi (animal market) and act like you do this everyday.

…tell tall tales of how you had to ‘wrestle’ to buy them in the first place.

…compare and contrast the size, color and price of your bakras.

…stuff everything in the nearest cupboard – except for the goats and cows.

…dress up at 7 in the morning and quickly stuff your pajamas randomly in the cupboard at hand.

…forget to try to remember to avoid an avalanche every time you have to take something out of said cupboard.

…take out hoards of china and cutlery that you didn’t even know existed.

…run around refilling dishes, marveling at the speed with which people eat.

…finish making one batch of tea for one batch of guests and have more show up in between.

…switch on the light of the room and directly go to the dresser to clean it, only to jump at the sound of snoring and look behind you to find your taya (father’s brother) taking a nap; tiptoe back out quietly.

…feed sacrificial animals and then not hesitate to gobble them up.

…boast your butcher-nabbing skills as well as the skills of the butcher you just nabbed.

…kick up a great big fuss about how “your” butcher messed us “your” meat.

…feel sad and happy at the same time in lieu of the sacrifice.

…proudly declare that you don’t eat meat.

…bite into the meat carefully as if expecting it to bite back.

…admire the bravery of five year old kids who are not even the tiny bit squeamish at the sight of blood.

…attend never-ending dinners with just the venue changing but not the people.

…run to the mirror to check your hair before every picture at said dinner.

…pose, pose and then pose some more.

…upload all the pictures as soon as possible to your Facebook and then start the commenting.

..fall asleep at night, dead tired, ready to do it all again.

…don’t find time to write a proper blog post.

Ramazan Realizations

I don’t remember the last time there was a Ramazan with no school. This year, I am home. Hence, too much time equals a swirl of thoughts, most half-formed, begging to be written.

Here, I share some special realizations that are exclusive to this holy month.

1. Women, you are worthless if you can’t cook. You can take an illustrious start by bringing in the trolley of food from the age of six or thereabouts – good practice, you know!

2. Incidentally, your only proper place is – you got it – La Kitchen.

3. An average meal should at least have ten perfectly cooked dishes or it won’t be the true representation of the situation in the country.

4. Using a good cooking oil is the only thing that matters when you’re preparing a meal. Follow this rule to earn the respect of everyone at home, especially the fire-breathing mother-in-law.

5. It is a lot of fun to grab that plate of samosas and run away to the courtyard while other people chase you to get it.

6. Do you see the guy (who looks ten years younger than you) sitting across the table from you and watching you hungrily? Yeah, him! Wouldn’t it have been logical to serve him some fish too? He seems…hungry!

7. People have a lot of courage. Karachi-ites are surviving. Politicians keep playing the blame game. And the cougar aunty in Pepsi ad is back for another ‘episode’. There is no such thing as bad publicity, right? *takes a sip of her Pepsi*

8. Jingles have a habit of getting stuck in your head so bad that you want to carve out your brain and stab it to death. Ok, well, maybe not. But they are still too annoying.

9. It is way way more important for the Prime Minister to reach home in time for iftar. He’s the only one fasting.

10. It is ironic; for a month of abstinence, we spend even more time thinking about food than we would under normal circumstances. (Guilty!)