9,498 words. I'm done. This very minute.
So here I am, listening to Gavin Rossdale in my self proclaimed lunch break, eating a cheese sandwich which has mayo in it instead of makhan bcos ammi realized the qeema had mysteriously dissapeared from the fridge AFTER she had already slathered mayo on the bread. Tsk. So, I'm in my office, on my rickety computer, who btw is called Ewe. Aadum's Soulmate. And because Hawwa might have been a bit sacreligious, thought Eve with a w would serve the dual purpose of the name perfectly.
So I spent the day with an orange Goldfish color pencil, a permanent board marker and a Panda bear. This is the new life, it seems! :)
Sure, I have two flags tied to the main gate lights. I could wear my Pakistan jersey and parade the streets on a motorcycle all evening. Read all the newspaper supplements on the Quaid and watch all the TV specials. Even sing the national anthem at the top of my lungs from my roof. Is that really the best I can do?
oh what a contrast you were
It's after experiences like these you realize the joy of knowing a khandani person. Call it elitism, snobbery, or whatever-the-hell else, in the end no matter what, class cannot be bought, values cannot be taught and decency cannot be instilled in just about everyone. We talk of chamri, haddi and khoon and you know what? I'm a firm believer of ammi's theory, that the blue blooded, khandani person will always stand out and always be a pleasure to meet instantly. You can always tell.
"Called to see