Friday, December 31, 2010

Soor kut gov!

"Hay ye soor kutai gov" in a roaring sound...


Abu ji shouting at everyone – where is this swine, I will cut him into pieces and throw those pieces to dogs "trudis traavan alhund"- today I will hang him.
I was hiding in the backyard,though I could imagine his face appear in front of my eyes with drops of sweat on his forehead- Red cheeks glistened like polished apples- eyes fuming indicating that the blood is on full boil.Abuji's fair complexion would invite challenges from hollywood.I remember mom told me once when she saw abuji for the first time she thought he was a Firangi.Once when mom saw George bush on tv she screamed hai Mohd.Yusuf! and Abuji grinned in amusement.He liked it!


"Hayo soora katitu chukh choori behit" where are you hiding-You swine! He shouted again
What happened asked my mom?
"Khali kya phaerhay tas plaza walis seeth hune sindh peath" – He only roams around with this plaza guy like a stray dog. This kutt hune-stray dog has brought shame to my name.He spoiled my image in the whole society. hooo! "Fakoo katu dhakiaa khoo,zan chukh che hari singh" mom would often use this slang to taunt abuji and in reply Abuji would spare none of her folks.


When Abuji wanted to score some extra points he would start playing his trump cards. Huuu! Don’t force me to open my mouth as if I don’t know your folks,They still eat rice cake with nun chaai.Seeing things turning ugly I somehow managed to escape and returned late in the evening .Mom wouldn’t eat anything unless I come back.I skipped in from the rear balcony adjoining our neighbours backyard.


Where were you? "mool kari khash ",He will slaughter you. Now eat food and go to sleep else if he saw you he will start screaming again. why don’t you study and do your home work properly .I would say nothing instead concentrate on my meal. Mom would get irritated by this attitude of mine she would push my head and say "che chie gomut mujjoont" you have become worthless.


My urdu teacher Nazir sir would call me a "nettaschoth"  langour.I remember once when I scored 13 out of 100 in urdu he told me even if I reverse the digits just for the sake of passing you, then also you will fail by a margin of two marks.So you better quit school and sell mujje jogje -vegetables.That year I got 199 out of 500 and just as a courtesy my class teacher did a great favour by promoting me to next standard.When I saw my report card only three things came to my mind – Bata chapple – Marchangan loor- te Soie these were the wepons of my destruction.


lucky added fuel to fire and started to frighten me of the consequences that I would have to face at home-- "yuspe haa maarie" Yusuf will murder you".I have an idea! lucky said.What is that I asked.Temper your report card.Change the marks and your problem is solved.This looked to be the best and fast remedy to this disease.While I was getting ready to forge my marks sheet,here were some valuable inputs.Owaisa if you temperd all the digits than your father "yuspe" will defenitly catch you.so instead of changing all the three digits just change the first digit,this digit can easily become 4.You mean 499 out of 500? i asked with raised eyebrows.


Yes said lucky, now that you are anyway forging it then why write less and I don’t think you really have any other option.I stuck to the plan and forged the total marks from 199 to an excellent figure of 499.It took three of us almost four hours,some pebbles and some extraordinary thinking to make alterations in the marks sheet and levelling the individual subject wise marks against the total marks.I thought If I would have invested only 10% of this energy and mind in my studies,today I would have passed with good marks. I remember lucky's grand father would tell us if you wish you three would sell shit at the cost of gold.199 became 499 and Grade E became Grade-Excellent.


I silently opend the door to check the mood inside before going in. Abuji was having his lunch on warindah and rest of the family watching his cheeks turning red with every mouthful of rice.He would tell me one should chew every mouthful thirty times before swallowing it in.Mom would often tell abuji "yeh chruf chruf maa laag" - don’t make these weird chomps.Mom busy with her embroidery,sobia covering her face with Gulistan urdu book pretending as if she was studying.I heard mom saying Gashu must be coming,i hope he gets good marks this year.Abuji interrupted with a strong crank and said "Aendram kaddas"- I will pull out his intestines if he didn’t get good marks this year,It churned my stomach.I took a deep breath and completely entered into the character of a Class topper.My excitement was worth watching,I was thrilled.I jumped in & said "Momaaa pass-choor hatt te nam nammath marks!! "-(499 marks!)


I saw my lil sister sobia opening her big eyes wider in surprise.she was stuck dumb! and looked at me with doubtful eyes.I avoided looking at her eyes because she almost dumped my fake confidence."Talla talla mea haav",-Mom said show me –show me- haaai! 499 out of 500 – Grade Excellent (it came as Excalannt out of her mouth)-haaai Distingshan!
Lagsiya balaai—Mubarakh! Mubarakh!


Abu didn’t say a word yet.why you don’t say few words of appreciation ,see "akh marks chus kamm" he has fallen short just by one mark.
Ye kyazi chuhai akh marks chotmut what they deducted this one mark for, Abuji asked finally.I don’t know I replied and kept quit.


Suddenly I saw sobia counting my marks obtained in every subject and tallying them with the total marks.She repeated the same process three to four times and looked a bit confused.
What happened sobia mom asked.sobia whispered something in moms ear with a corner of her eye towards me."Naai tallai be ganzraav ha"- noo let me count.It made my blood run cold. my ear lobes turning pink.My face turning pale.


what happned mom, I asked.what is she saying.
Look there is a big mistake the total is coming 500 and they have written only 499."Akh marks chuhai khumut".It took four hours for me-owaisplaza and lucky to calculate-we used pebbles- we did it and did it again.we counted and then recounted,we checked and then rechecked but still we made a mistake – Nazir sir was right we should quit school and sell Mujji jogji.


"Gasshan che karmut ath kethaain".Gashu has done something wrong with it sobia grinned.I felt like a cat on hot bricks. I could feel butterflies in my stomach.Shutup I said go and concentrate on you work.


"Talsa yure haav" –This time abuji took a keen interest."Hyo atth ma chuthas doolmut".Did you temper it.Noo I said-why should i- how can I – with a volly of questions and tears sopporting my fake argument.I turned to mom and started crying- see muma I got good marks and still everyone is doubting me.Naaa gobur,we are not doubting you,It’s a mistake from their side and they should rectify it.Why don’t you go to his school and ask his class teacher why they are always biased towards my child mom told abuji."muhaa mune gobur pakh keh batt"- with a kiss on my forehead mom went towards kitchen to bring some food for me.


"Wathsa khesa batt jaldi"—finish your lunch quickly abuji said we will go to your school.Abuji its already late I said.No its only 1o'clock. school will be open till 3 oclock sobia intervened.I knew if i went with abuji he will cut me into pieces and distribute among the Behari labours in tulibal near MET.so I preffered to stay back.You go I will not come I am exhausted I said and laid back in exasperation.


He took my report card and gave me a 100 rupee note to buy new books from fayaz enterprise and went away....
Then he came roaring back in the evening—"hay ye soor kutie gov"!

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Amrikan Dream!

I hate getting frisked, but what if the frisker is a blond fille? Though bashfully but I will excuse you frisking me this time. I can understand this country has its rules and I need to abide by them. I grinned & eagerly got ready to get “stripped” oops! I mean “frisked”.Fair hair, a light complexion and typical blue eyes. Boy! She was slinky. In this very short while we introduced each other, she took my cell number, said she was impressed, we became friends, friendship twirled into love, we sung some duets & danced on bollywood tunes, we proposed each other, we married, we had few brown & few white kids, and then like any other unsuccessful western couple we divorced!—Can I see your passport? She requested- She is a lady guard. In a jiff my romantic bubble bursted into pieces in front of my eyes. I showed her my passport and signed the immigration check form as if I was signing the divorce papers, I was a buffet of emotions!


Anyway, after this will-o'-the-wisp fantasy I came out of los angeles airport. I love this country, I always love coming here, though this is for the first time I have come here-I chuckled. With this witty thought I boarded a cab and the radio was playing "Welcome to the hotel California” Seeing my alien expressions in the rear mirror sardarji-cabbie quickly tuned on to bollywood music. Tall buildings, bare legged chicks, expensive cars, fashion in a-la-mode style this city has everything.
Like any goosey anxious asian I enquired:
Sardarji, is there a beach somewhere near here?
Take off your clothes and walk nude this is Amrika! he replied in a typical Punjabi accent. I looked at my watch it was exactly 12 o’clock and I grokked that he won’t understand a damn thing at this moment.


After taking a nap for few hours in my luxurious hotel suit. I woke up late in the evening with an empty stomach. So instead of ordering something from the hotel, I decided to go out and have a dinner whilst take a walk around this beautiful city. Idea wasn’t bad but where to go was a million dollar question.


I went to the reception and enquired about some well known sub-continental restaurants around the city. The lady sitting on the counter was very benevolent. She didn’t bother to go out of her way to print a list of restaurants & a city map for me.
She is a sweet heart! Her name is Catherine & she is still gazing at me!
Nope! Nope! no more pipe dreams. I fled from the spot thinking sometimes I am too desired! – but I have to live with it.


After roaming the lanes I found an Asian restaurant with a very strange name “Paapi Chuulo foods” --“here you get breakfast at anytime”— That’s goofy!. I didn’t want to go into its philosophy. I was hungry and immediately ordered some meals to kill my hunger. I had few butter nans with a delicious Dahi Gosht (lamb in yoghurt sauce), chicken kebabs & barbequed fish plus kiwi raita.I swear it was a real yum!


Now I desperately needed some sleep so I decided to take a cab and rush straight back to the hotel. Suddenly out of blue a sweet voice called my name; Owwais.. Owwaais.. Owwwaaais.. It was getting musical like a mellow sound bringing a feel of imminent melody. My name was falling out from her red lips like dry autumn leaves, my name has ever been so beautiful. Passing winds were playing violins, the scene watching birds were chirping a romantic poem, the nightingale on that conifer branch also joined the chorus with a lovely chirk. The empty road turned into a musical theatre & denizens became our audience, the song was in full swing. Ah! The romantic atmosphere of this place. Far away somewhere some one was playing chimes, it was getting louder. My alarm clock chimed 6 o’clock & I woke up!


This is why i hate dreaming i said while sighing in exasperation. The musical lady still remains a mystery... Catherine was better!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Zoya, my lil niece is no more.

Last time I had seen her when she was just 2 months old. While caressing her unripe cheeks she gave a tender glance at me & moved her little lips as if she would just say something. She was crying & moving her teeny weeny legs in a strange desperation. With long girly fingers her small hands looked so personable. I smiled at myself and thought we humans are only beautiful as babies and when we grow old our sinless hearts turn into sinful hideouts. Realizing that my attention got diverted from her for a second, she got angry and started bawling while rubbing her tiny feet against the floor, I had to pluck my ear lobes and say sorry to convince her so that she stops crying. Suddenly she had a clever grin in amusement on her face after this short drama. In heart of her hearts she would have been thinking Mamu! I made a real Mamu of u!


Yesterday suddenly she left us all & didn’t say good-bye to anyone. She slept & slept for rest of her life. I didn’t have a chance to see her for a long time as I am living in exile some where else away from my tribe.


She had just started creeping & chirping but I think she didn’t like this world. I have seen many a times little children murmur with no sense .But I always have a belief that this no sense murmur is no non sense at all. I think this is the way they interact with God coz he is the best knower of everything. The understanding, The wise.


It seems if she had come under an agreement with God that she would live on probation and if she likes this world she is gona stay or else will leave for good. Unlike us she choose the real life, the life after death.


Her mom is concerned, if they have a bib and baby food there. Zoya didn’t take any fancy dresses with her. They say some spiritual beings called as angels will attend upon her arrival there. She will have wings like a seraph & will re-unite with her friends. They wpuld have a little gathering on the lakeside of river “salsabil” (a river in paradise) where she would tell them stories about this evil world. But she would not forget to tell them about her lovely mom who would be missing her for the rest of her life.


Zoya,we will miss you always…..Mamu!

Monday, January 4, 2010

Tere Maa Ki Jai! (life in verses)

Tender age, that naïf juvenile
priceless hours & that momentous while
bawling cries & that mirthful smile

little fights, those colorful lights
flying kites, those chocolate bites

Naked & nude, dirty & rude
Stupid acts & mad attitude

dancing in rain, bruises & pain
saying sorry & then doing again

my dirty uniform
that innocent charm

Climbing the hay on that one day
Shrieking & shouting tere maa ki jai!

Starting of sage, coming out of cage
Early teen age, that sexy cover page

Facial Steams, hair gel & creams
Having romance in romantic dreams!

Chasing that dove, feeling like wow!
You want her now & falling in love

I didn't listen since long to my favourite song
i even forgot my first ding dong!

fragrance of my soil
that dangerous turmoil

familiar dead faces
fake encounter cases

burning of my town
that terrible crackdown

 chirping birds on that telegraph wire
huge explosions and horrible gunfire

that dying man in Ambulance van
traced phone calls & prepaid ban

estranged meadows & destroyed greens
bleeding bodies & deadly scenes

I cannot see, I can not find
I don’t know, how to rewind
I lost peace from my peaceful mind
(Owaisbata)

Sunday, January 3, 2010

It's My Happy Birth Day!!!


Again came this unusual day
Jubilations everywhere as they say!
Why are they happy, why are they so gay
Telling me fairytales but where is the Fay

Noise everywhere everything so fake
Chocolate & berries embellished ova bake
I can’t understand for God’s sake!
Why candles lit ova this delicious cake

What is the matter, why I am not being told
Why are they celebrating, if I am growing old
What is this jingle, what is being sold
What is this hush, something hidden in the fold

Why is she grinning, does she have something to say
Blushing & twinkling, Boy! She made my day
Is she a bunny girl, is she gona lay!
What is that bill! which she wants me to pay

Everyone left after my Happy Birth Day!
(Owaisbata)