Dear Uncle Sam & Friends

Dear Uncle Sam & Friends,

How are you? I hope you are doing well....well enough to give our thieving tyrants a few billion more dollars so they can pump up their swiss bank accounts and ride around in their convoy gold plated suicide bomber proof 'smart' cars. The free Boeing you threw in for free were nice too.

This is Pakistan here, not the government your accustomed to paying off dealing with, but the peeps. and yes, take that as evidence that we watch the WWE and think Christian; Captain Charisma himself, is awesome. See, we love your liberal TV!

Shouldn't that make us more human, rather than a perpetual inconvenience that requires a cheque book? We have feelings too you know, we ought to talk about them sometime when your done invading other countries or causing economic collapses.

We don't talk often, but when we do it's usually about money and how you should be giving us some for doing things like cleaning our rooms off the poisonous bugs we have scurrying around (Your fault btw). Fine we will, but it'll cost you a few billion and damn straight we feel perfectly entitled in demanding it.

You do seem to talk alot about us though, 'The Pakistani People' and how you want to 'help us', horse shit here is some news for you douchebags, Pakistani people think you are full of shit. You don't want to help us, you want to control us, teach us how we should think, what we should believe and what we should do. Fuck that. We'll pretend to be nice when taking your piles of cash, but let's be honest here, this is a business transactions. We do what you want for pay, but we'll skull fuck you verbally all freaking day. We'll burn all y'all flags and wait for your dethronement, for that we'll pray.  

You ask us why are we so belligerent, why do we blindly hate y'all so much. And as sweet as that sentiment may sound, it is my sad duty to inform you that we don't blindly abhor you; we hate you the same way that a drug addict prostitute hates her 'clients'. You only give us money to fuel our angst, and baby, we'll cluster fucking burn that wad of bills until there is nothing left and you have to come back to give us more. We know what you're trying to do..... You pay us off like we're trash, like beggars on the street, like parents who pay off their kids so they can justify not spending time with them. So fucking be it you impotent assholes.

Now that we have nukes (which you paid for, thanks btw), come and try to beat us with your big bad stick. Make our day.  Does Nuclear Holocaust and potential genetic mutation sounds particularly awesome?

We grew up disenfranchised, with one dictator/thief after another, all promising that our lives were going to be better, and all the while you looked on in appreciation that your newly hired nanny was actually going to take care of us. Bull Fucking Shit. These so called 'guardians' raped and pillaged everywhere they went, and you know fucking what, history repeats itself. Telling us that they're democratic doesn't make their crimes any less painful. Yes we elect them, you prop them up, we elect them. That's the story 'morning glory,' call it part of the Stockholme syndrome that you infected us with. Thanks a load, the family thanks you.

And what the hell is it with Afghanistan? Why is their every fuck up our god damn fault. We didn't make those pot growing Islamic Hercules loving hippies the way they are, you did. Just like you made us just the way we are with your Jihad against the Communists...

We get it, it's cheaper for you to train and send us to shed our blood than having to deal with all the bad press of American soldiers coming home in body bags. Btw what the fuck is this whole bringing the body back home for burial. Seriously, WHAT? You bury a man on the ground he dies on. Period. Carting a dead body complete with hash filled coffins just seems far more disrespectful. What the fuck are you? Made of Money? Oh yeah...wait.  

You want to make things better? Well here's a start, try focusing on the actual people who live here, the ones that don't have enough to eat while you make your regular deposits in our leaders Swiss bank accounts. How about a little electricity for those poor bastards living like slum dogs. The movie was cute, but it's fucking reality. How about educating a few folk? Only half the population can write their bloody names.....and that's the litmus test to see if they are literate. And most of all, how about investing in our Future rather than offering us military hardware and bucket loads of your dirty money.

Thank you for your mother fucking money, here is to us making you choke on it!

Sincerely yours,

The Pakistani People

PS: HOW FUCKING DARE YOU END 24 & LOST!!!!WHY? WHY? WHY?

PSS: YOU ARE NEVER LEAVING AFGHANISTAN OR IRAQ: SUCK ON THAT BITCHES!!!

Office Walla Absurdity: Rise of the Paperless Pushers

Contrary to perceptions about Pakistan’s unemployment numbers, majority of Pakistani’s work, if you are reading this, odds are that you are an elite member of the 100 million (PS: I made that number up) strong work force. You work, and if you are lucky (or unlucky depending on your orientation) you work in an office environment. Perhaps a local company, a Bank, Multi-National Corporation, call centre, government ‘office’ or a just a run of the mill office.

Congratulations, you are one of Pakistan’s elite Office Wallas. You have your own desk/cubicle, wear a tie to work and perhaps even comb your hair in the morning and if you are extremely lucky your office has air conditioning (temperature well below the recommended 26 degree Celsius) liberally supported with generators and UPS. In fact, if you are particularly important, your computer has its own UPS to combat the incessant load shedding.

People find your job respectable; even though odds are that they don’t understand from atom what it is you actually do. Note: There is a difference between the person who works in treasury and one who is a bank teller….but yes, they both deal with money and clients. 

You get free Chai/Tea. There is no perk more crucial to an Office Walla than getting free tea; It’s not about the money, it’s about status. An Office Walla without an adequate volume of Chai, coupled with a regular efficiently managed supply chain is like a one legged man without a crutch. Sugar and Caffeine Zindabad.

You have the printing privilege spanning into millions. Recycling paper is an alien concept because paper unlike money does in fact grow (via) on trees. Recycling is for ‘environmentally minded’ NGO’s and for cheap khokas/Eateries that can’t afford proper napkins.

You lament over sugar prices even though realistically you really can afford the extra five rupees per bag, but you feel highly qualified to lament on behalf of the majority of the population that will embark on a revolution based on the impact of pheeki chai/unsweet tea. We Pakistani’s are very serious about our chai. It’s opiumesque.  

Your title and job description have as much in common as chalia and chewing gum; Next to nothing, but a mild flirtation of substitution. A receptionist is duly given a business card that refers to her as the junior communications director. Enough said.

You think you are better than regular people. There I said it. People find the status of being in an office one step closer to God. And who said we didn’t carry over the caste system?

The day’s most vigorous well fought debates of the day aren’t on how to maximize the company’s revenue and cut costs, it’s on Politics, Zionists and how Karachi's very own Mustapha Kamal is an angel.  

You actually pay your taxes and passionately hate the people who spend it; It is one thing to support the nation’s impoverished destitutes, it’s quite another to subsidize government officials’ Lear jet. So how exactly was the IDP tax money spent? I want to see an audit dammit!...preferably Chinese ones. They’re cheaper.

We live in a society of complainers and blamers, and we like nothing better than to end of the day grimace how we had a tough day at the office, but we usually fail to provide details on a days activities (that spouses in particular are so keen for), for the fundamental reason that the only memorable parts are the office pranks, running jokes and general office buffoonery. Truth of the matter is that most people like the place they work, but Office Wallas love the money they make and the status they are accorded.

I am plagued with the question of what is life as an Office Walla? Is it a rampant black hole that slowly devours our short lives or is it closer in spirit to a pointless, gray existence, spotted with absurd moments of comedy throughout the day to alleviate general monotony? I don’t have the answer, but all I know is that I love the place I work, the people I work with and the time I have, end of the day, it’s all about attitude, you can have fun in the most corporate straight laced of work places. Be fun and you will have fun, at least that is my strategy if I fail in my quest to be a good person and wind up in hell. Solid Backup Plan I Think.  

My Blogging Experiment

I've always wondered if blogging is an art form or just a way for frustrated people to voice their ideas, thoughts, and general reservations about whats going on in their lives.

Then I realized that I don't really care what most people have to say as much as I enjoyed what latest thought was provoking the cogs in my own head.

The reason why I've decided to blog and unload whatever is going on in my mind is actually very simple. I can't afford therapy (retail or otherwise) and I personally enjoy writing (whether others will enjoy my brand of rambling remains to be seen). In time this will probably act as a diary (preferably an entertaining one) I'll share with an older me to see if I've matured or grown as a person; At my current trajectory I should hit a mental age of 25 by the time I'm 80.

Since I am a social animal, over thinker to a fault, and an avid sports fan, critical movie goer and sanguine reader, I doubt any particular theme will emerge. I am at heart, a random soul; My love of learning obtuse ridiculous things and developing wishful ideas has yet to be diminished by time. And privately I hope it never will.

So here I am blogo-sphere, hope your as therapeutic as my personal writing has been. I promise to be as honest and unfiltered as possible.

Note: to be fair its been so long since I had a functional filter I'm not sure what that would look like anymore.