Of Ostriches and Women

I recently found out that, at least in Pakistan, an ostrich is not a bird. This has compounded my confusion about what is what in this country especially after the whole apple and banana fiasco last year.

But seriously - ok semi seriously - I can understand why the ostrich was classified as an animal.  Pakistan is exporting large quantities of the bird's meat and many more projects for its agriculture are in the pipeline. Before the aforementioned amendment, ostriches were classified as exotic birds and it required all kinds of licenses and permits to raise them. Changing a bill in the provincial assembly is apparently much simpler to do in Pakistan than getting said permits and licenses.

Yet, none of it explains why women, especially burqa-clad women, cross the busy main roads of Karachi the way they do. You must have heard of the way that ostriches behave when they are in danger; they place their heads flat on the ground, thinking that if they can't see the danger, the danger won't be able to see them. Perhaps you might even have heard of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal, "a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you."* But these burqa-fied women crossing the roads are somewhat a new breed, one I've termed as The Mind-Boggingly Stupid Ostrich Women. They appear out of nowhere in front of you - especially when you are cruising on a very busy street (e.g. Shahra-e-Faisal) - and proceed to quickly cross the road without giving as much as a cursory glance towards oncoming traffic. They deliberately avert their gaze - with a complete disregard, I might add, to all the screeching, honking, and cursing around them - hoping that if they don't see the approaching cars, motorcycles, bicycles, rickshaws, buses, trucks, tankers, vans, eighteen-wheelers, twenty-two-wheelers, donkey carts and cows, the cows, donkey carts, twenty-two-wheelers, eighteen-wheelers, vans, tankers, trucks, buses, rickshaws, bicycles, motorcycles, and cars won't run them over.

This much is pretty clear. What I'm completely unsure of is whether they believe that they will be saved because the traffic can't see them either or because they believe that if they don't look at the traffic, the traffic won't exist anymore.




* Adams, Douglas. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. New York: Random House, 1979: pg. 21

Sorry, Ghalti Se Mistake Ho Gaya

It’s funny that I keep coming back to my blog Ramzan after Ramzan. Perhaps the holy month inspires some creativity in me, just as it seems to do so for many others. For instance, consider Veena Malik and her new show on a channel called Hero TV. How much more creative can one get?

But since I don’t fast, it could be that the holiness of the people around me is somehow conducive to my writing process; that or just the plain hilarity that ensues because of so many people who all of a sudden start doing strange and weird things in this month.

Like calling it Ramadan. What is Ramadan? All my life I have heard it as being Ramzan and said Ramzan and all of a sudden, people are saying Ramadan. Why do we have to pull out our camel-like tongues and say it in Arabic? With this logic, we might as well start calling our drinks Bebsi and our country Bakistan.

Anyhow, if me coming back to my blog every Ramzan is funny, then that’s a good thing, because this is after all a humorous blog.

This year, it was an SMS that inspired me to come here and write again. I will divulge the content of that hilarious text in just a minute, but before I do, I want to comment on the way English is handled by many people here in Karachi. I know I have talked about this before a few times, but it never seems to get old. This time, let me present the conversation as it happened. Here goes:

Electrician: “Jee, aur agar aap ko aato maating switching karnee hai tau aap ko Snow White switch lagana zuroori hoga. Waisay who kuch ziyada mehenga nahee hota, liken woh aik buhat zuroori…”

Me: “Aik second. Snow White switch?”

Electrician: “Jee, jee. Snow White switch. Tau mein keh raha tha…”

My cousin: “Aap kaheen cellulite switch kee baat tau naheen kar rahai…”

Electrician: “Jee, jee, jee, jee. Wohi. Sorry, ghalti se spelling mistake ho gaya…”

The humor of this situation does not end here, because apparently it seems that my cousin made a "spelling mistake" as well. There is no such thing as a cellulite switch that is used in generators; I have no idea what it is actually called.

This brings me to the text I received which prompted this blog post. The sender did make a real spelling mistake here:

“May this auspicious month of holy Ramadan-e-Kareem give you the guidance to do good and shun evil. May Allah shower you with blessings and accept your farts.”

But I have yet to receive an apology for it.

The Just In Case Files of Shandar Misttry, Inventive Generalist

I have started a Twitter Book Project. I plan on writing a novel (at least a novella) on Twitter.

Not "What is Twitter?" or "Things to do on Twitter." A book written inside the 140-characters box of Twitter.

It has it all: Vampires, Werewolves, Zombies, Superheroes, Aliens, Love, Sex, Rainbows, Fairies, Unicorns, Elves, Trolls, Wizards...

... Murder, Intrigue, Mystery, Espionage, Conspiracy Theories, Action, Romance, Comedy, and all the rest of the things people read about.

But not necessarily in that order.

Follow me on Twitter @shandarmisstry (or follow this link: https://twitter.com/shandarmisttry) to read the story.