January 2008
Benazir’s assassination leaves chasm in coming elections
Butterfly hopes Janoo will become High Commissioner in London
There’s a big fasaad in Janoo’s family. And for once it’s not about me. It’s about the elections and whose side Janoo is taking. Basically Psycho’s not talking to Janoo. (Psycho is the pet name I’ve given to Saiqa, Janoo’s older sister. The younger one is Qubra, whom I call Cobra, pyaar say, na.)
Anyways, Psycho’s going round saying that qiamat is coming. Otherwise why would her own flesh and blood brother, born from same mother and same father, cut her nose and blacken her face like that by helping their second cousin to defeat her husband in the election, haan?
On top, the second cousin is also from wrong side of the family, because, long ago, in fact in olden times, the second cousin’s father wanted to marry Janoo’s mother, The Old Bag – imagine! – and Janoo’s grandfather said that no, we can’t give our daughter to you because your son, he is a little bit on the demented side.
So this wrong side of the family, they’ve held a budge against Janoo’s side of the family ever since. And in every election that comes, they kharha karo a candidate of their own in Sharkpur against Janoo’s brothers-in-law, who, like the show-offers that they are, are very fond of fighting elections. The wrong side of the family has never won of course, but they do it just out of saarh, to spoil the chances of Janoo’s side of the family.
Janoo’s got lots of votes in Sharkpur, na. Ever since he built those schools and gave all the landless pheasants sewage in their homes, he’s become their favourite feudal. So Psycho thought that when her husband, Billoo, took PML-Q ka ticket he would cash in on Janoo’s popularity and ride all the way to Isloo on Janoo’s shoulders.
PML-Q was the hot party in the last election, basically because it was Musharraf ’s party (even though he’s a general and not supposed to have parties but still...). So naturally it was stuffed full of his cronies, toadies, chaprhassis and pitthoos and all. Janoo always called it the Qing’s party and naturally he hated it from the bottoms of his heart because he thought that a general had no business having parties.
Anyways, because in the last election PML-Q had done so well, Billoo thought that chalo, I’ll take PML-Q ka ticket again and because of my connection to Janoo I’ll get all the votes in Sharkpur. And he also thought keh the evil cousin from the wrong branch of the family who took Benazir’s PPP ka ticket would obviously loose.
So without even bothering to ask Janoo keh bhai, is it okay with you if we use your name to win seats, Billoo and Psycho they started using his name in Sharkpur as if it was their very own while Janoo was busy being a civil society wallah in Lahore and attending this vigil and that rally and this protest and that jaloos.
And even though Janoo hates PML-Q from the bottoms of his heart, he didn’t go and expose Billoo in Sharkpur because he couldn’t do that to his sister even though she is a shameless user.
But then Benazir bechari – hai, itna mein ne usski death ko feel kiya hai na – was killed and then Mush came on TV in an open necked shirt as if he’d just returned from playing golf and announced without even a tear in his eye or a sad look on his face that she was dead and that a lever in her Lexus jeep ki roof had hit her in the head and murdered her, and it wasn’t the fundos at all and he also complied that really it was her own fault that she’d died because despite of his warnings, she’d not been security minded.
And then they rushed her body out of Pindi and they washed away all the evidence the next day – I saw it with my own eyes on TV, the police hosing down the spot where she’d been killed – then tau Janoo went completely mad and decided then and there only that in Sharkpur at least her sacrifice wouldn’t go in wain. So he rushed off there to go and campaign for the PPP ka candidate, who just happened to be from the wrong side of the family. But Janoo damn cared.
Since then he’s being going around Sharkpur with the evil cousin and saying to his villagers that give my votes to him only and that we all owe it to Benazir. So Billoo has been deflated like a prickled balloon and Psycho’s saying qiamat is coming and I’m telling Janoo that if you aren’t going to stand in elections and win PPP ki seat yourself then at least let Asif Zardari know what, what you are doing for him so at least when he becomes PM he’ll send you as High Remissioner to London.
But will he listen? ‘I’m not doing it for Asif,’ he says. ‘I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. We owe Benazir and we’ve had enough of Musharraf. Eleven years of military rule is no joke.’
Loser jaisa. I keep telling him that we’ve got to get Kulchoo married off also. And just think how many nice families would want their daughters to marry him if his father became ambassador. Vaisay every time I see Mush on TV now I feel like throwing something at the screen. And if it wasn’t a brand new wall-to-wall flat screen plasma, I probably would have also. Hai, mein Benazir ko itna miss karti hoon na...
February 2008
The nation goes to the polls
Butterfly blames Musharraf for people’s bad manners
Me, Mummy and Aunty Pussy, we went to give our votes in the election. Because we are civil society types, na, who take our civil responsibilities seriously. Not like the noovo rich types who just want to stay at home and count their new cash. So anyways, I was supposed to go with Mulloo, Baby and Fluffy vaghera but they were all voting for the PML-Q kay Chaudhrys, because their husbands got big, big contracts from them in the last guvmunt but Janoo didn’t, so I didn’t.
Go with them, I mean. Not that Janoo was interested in getting contracts – his tau shoe has more pride and self respect than to go and beg for contracts – but I still minded for him. Because I’m like that only. Loyal, principaled, tit for tit type. Anyways, I went with Aunty Pussy and Mummy because both of them were voting for PPP, na, Benazir’s party.
Aunty Pussy tau has always voted for PPP. She knew Nusrat Bhutto – oho baba, Benazir’s mother – from their Karachi days when both of them wore saris and beehives and meat was ten rupees a ton and only the deserving had cars and even those who took their six children to school on a bicycle had happy smiles and only nice prayers for their car-driving betters.
Aunty Pussy says Nusrat Bhutto always had soft spots for her and when Benazir became Prime Minister first time in the ’80s, she even got Cockup Uncle, Aunty Pussy’s husband, a job in some pubic sector type ki organization, where work was very little and money was very much.
So I gave vote to PPP to show Mulloo vaghera that I’m not under their thumbs and Mummy gave hers to PPP because she thinks PPP is going to win and it’s good to do salaam to rising sun, na.
Anyways, I told Janoo on the phone (he was in Sharkpur helping his evil relly who was fighting from PPP’s side against Billoo, his brother-in-law, Psycho’s husband, who was in PML-Q) that we were voting for his side only and he was very happy and then I told him why and he was not so happy. He called us the Three Disgraces. Aik tau trying to make Janoo happy is also like milking a bull.
So we went to the pooling station in our new Land Cruiser. The pooling station was in a nice sa school in our neighbourwood only. Thanks God we live in Gulberg and not some slump type area where we would have to vote alongside all the bhooka nangas. But still I was worried keh koi suicide bomber shouldn’t come and blow us all up, but Mummy said, ‘Don’t be silly, darling, those types don’t live in Gulberg.’
So many women were waiting to vote keh we had to cue. I think so lot of them were there for Benazir. Most of them looked like they were well healed types, you know silk shalwar kameezes and designer bags, but still Aunty Pussy marched straight away to the front and demanded to go first.
So this woman in trainers and an oily platt, who I think so was minding the station, she asked us why. Imagine! The rudeness. So Aunty Pussy lifted her chin and said, ‘Because I happen to be a personal friend of Begum Bhutto.’ So this woman puts her hands on her hips, looks her up and down and says, ‘I don’t care if you are a personal friend of George Bush, you take your proper turn.’ Imagine what the country’s come to! Na koi lehaaz, na koi sharam, na koi manners.
Honestly! I tell you, it’s all the fault of that Musharraf. You know all that prosperity he gave to small type people, na, it went straight to their heads. So served him right when his PML-Q party and his darling Chaudhrys lost so badly, so badly that don’t even ask. I tau tell you, whole gardens were flowering in my heart when I heard that PPP had won hands down. I was so glad for Benazir, so glad for Janoo and so glad for myself – now I could crow to Mulloo.
So yesterday I called up Mulloo and said, ‘So sorry about the Chaudhrys. You all must be so sad, na, their loosing the election so badly.’
‘Chaudhrys who, baba? I don’t know who you could possibly mean,’ replied Mulloo. ‘We tau all voted for Nawaz Bhai and his PML-N. He’s always been such a close friend. And I am such an admirer of his wife, Bhabi Kulsum. So upright, so religious, she’s such a respiration for women. In fact, I’m just off to give mubariks with a trunk full of mithai. Byeeee.’
March 2008
Asif Zardari and Nawaz Sharif agree to form coalition government
Butterfly discovers Janoo’s favourite colour
Between you, me and the four walls, Janoo, poor thing, has not been same since Benazir’s murder. He’s started smoking again, na. After fifteen years. Socho zara! Also has started saying strangest, crackest things. Like yesterday he told me he wanted a green car. In all the years that I’ve been married to him he never once told me that green was his favourite colour.
Imagine! All these years he’s been hiding it from me. And there I was thinking keh he liked mud brown and mouse grey. Now I find that secret, secret mein he’s been fancying green all this time. I hope so he likes forest green or olive green and not parrot green or sub say worst, vomit green. I told him I’m always ready for a new car but does it have to be green? Can’t it be metallic blue instead? Or a smart sa steal grey colour? With coffee coloured leather ki seats?
He sighed and said, ‘Never mind.’
‘So shall we get a Prado or a new Land Cruiser or even a Lexus? Tell na,’ I asked, excited at the prospectus of driving into Mulloo’s drive away in my gleaming si, new si, huge si silver grey car with coffee brown leather seats. (They had to sell their red Porch last year, na, because Tony got into some trouble with the banks and now Mulloo who used to swan around like a real show-offer in the Porch has to sit with a bowed head in their five year old Corolla. Serves her right, vaisay. Got her just deserts.)
And then Kulchoo, that spoilt spot, said, ‘But Aba, it is actually not green to keep changing your car all the time. That’s needless consumerism. The best thing you can do for the environment is to keep your old car. Just use it less.’
Use it less? If I used my car any less it would be garlanded in cobwebs. Next he’ll be suggesting that I go to the bazaar myself on a bicycle every day and do the sauda. Honestly! Father tau was already crack, now son is also following in his footsteps. It’s all to do with hereditary and jeans, I’m told.
Aside from your looks shooks you also inherit your personality straights in your jeans. Chalo, yeh acchha hai, I thought to myself. Some people inherit lands, some inherit Swiss bank accounts, others inherit kothis, others inherit factories and firms and political parties and some inherit thick hair or green eyes or sharp cheek bones and fair si skin and what does my son inherit from his father? A cracked head. And knock knees, that’s what. It’s just not fair.
Excerpted with permission from The Return of the Butterfly by Moni Mohsin, published by Penguin Books India.
We welcome your comments at
letters@scroll.in.
Benazir’s assassination leaves chasm in coming elections
Butterfly hopes Janoo will become High Commissioner in London
There’s a big fasaad in Janoo’s family. And for once it’s not about me. It’s about the elections and whose side Janoo is taking. Basically Psycho’s not talking to Janoo. (Psycho is the pet name I’ve given to Saiqa, Janoo’s older sister. The younger one is Qubra, whom I call Cobra, pyaar say, na.)
Anyways, Psycho’s going round saying that qiamat is coming. Otherwise why would her own flesh and blood brother, born from same mother and same father, cut her nose and blacken her face like that by helping their second cousin to defeat her husband in the election, haan?
On top, the second cousin is also from wrong side of the family, because, long ago, in fact in olden times, the second cousin’s father wanted to marry Janoo’s mother, The Old Bag – imagine! – and Janoo’s grandfather said that no, we can’t give our daughter to you because your son, he is a little bit on the demented side.
So this wrong side of the family, they’ve held a budge against Janoo’s side of the family ever since. And in every election that comes, they kharha karo a candidate of their own in Sharkpur against Janoo’s brothers-in-law, who, like the show-offers that they are, are very fond of fighting elections. The wrong side of the family has never won of course, but they do it just out of saarh, to spoil the chances of Janoo’s side of the family.
Janoo’s got lots of votes in Sharkpur, na. Ever since he built those schools and gave all the landless pheasants sewage in their homes, he’s become their favourite feudal. So Psycho thought that when her husband, Billoo, took PML-Q ka ticket he would cash in on Janoo’s popularity and ride all the way to Isloo on Janoo’s shoulders.
PML-Q was the hot party in the last election, basically because it was Musharraf ’s party (even though he’s a general and not supposed to have parties but still...). So naturally it was stuffed full of his cronies, toadies, chaprhassis and pitthoos and all. Janoo always called it the Qing’s party and naturally he hated it from the bottoms of his heart because he thought that a general had no business having parties.
Anyways, because in the last election PML-Q had done so well, Billoo thought that chalo, I’ll take PML-Q ka ticket again and because of my connection to Janoo I’ll get all the votes in Sharkpur. And he also thought keh the evil cousin from the wrong branch of the family who took Benazir’s PPP ka ticket would obviously loose.
So without even bothering to ask Janoo keh bhai, is it okay with you if we use your name to win seats, Billoo and Psycho they started using his name in Sharkpur as if it was their very own while Janoo was busy being a civil society wallah in Lahore and attending this vigil and that rally and this protest and that jaloos.
And even though Janoo hates PML-Q from the bottoms of his heart, he didn’t go and expose Billoo in Sharkpur because he couldn’t do that to his sister even though she is a shameless user.
But then Benazir bechari – hai, itna mein ne usski death ko feel kiya hai na – was killed and then Mush came on TV in an open necked shirt as if he’d just returned from playing golf and announced without even a tear in his eye or a sad look on his face that she was dead and that a lever in her Lexus jeep ki roof had hit her in the head and murdered her, and it wasn’t the fundos at all and he also complied that really it was her own fault that she’d died because despite of his warnings, she’d not been security minded.
And then they rushed her body out of Pindi and they washed away all the evidence the next day – I saw it with my own eyes on TV, the police hosing down the spot where she’d been killed – then tau Janoo went completely mad and decided then and there only that in Sharkpur at least her sacrifice wouldn’t go in wain. So he rushed off there to go and campaign for the PPP ka candidate, who just happened to be from the wrong side of the family. But Janoo damn cared.
Since then he’s being going around Sharkpur with the evil cousin and saying to his villagers that give my votes to him only and that we all owe it to Benazir. So Billoo has been deflated like a prickled balloon and Psycho’s saying qiamat is coming and I’m telling Janoo that if you aren’t going to stand in elections and win PPP ki seat yourself then at least let Asif Zardari know what, what you are doing for him so at least when he becomes PM he’ll send you as High Remissioner to London.
But will he listen? ‘I’m not doing it for Asif,’ he says. ‘I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. We owe Benazir and we’ve had enough of Musharraf. Eleven years of military rule is no joke.’
Loser jaisa. I keep telling him that we’ve got to get Kulchoo married off also. And just think how many nice families would want their daughters to marry him if his father became ambassador. Vaisay every time I see Mush on TV now I feel like throwing something at the screen. And if it wasn’t a brand new wall-to-wall flat screen plasma, I probably would have also. Hai, mein Benazir ko itna miss karti hoon na...
February 2008
The nation goes to the polls
Butterfly blames Musharraf for people’s bad manners
Me, Mummy and Aunty Pussy, we went to give our votes in the election. Because we are civil society types, na, who take our civil responsibilities seriously. Not like the noovo rich types who just want to stay at home and count their new cash. So anyways, I was supposed to go with Mulloo, Baby and Fluffy vaghera but they were all voting for the PML-Q kay Chaudhrys, because their husbands got big, big contracts from them in the last guvmunt but Janoo didn’t, so I didn’t.
Go with them, I mean. Not that Janoo was interested in getting contracts – his tau shoe has more pride and self respect than to go and beg for contracts – but I still minded for him. Because I’m like that only. Loyal, principaled, tit for tit type. Anyways, I went with Aunty Pussy and Mummy because both of them were voting for PPP, na, Benazir’s party.
Aunty Pussy tau has always voted for PPP. She knew Nusrat Bhutto – oho baba, Benazir’s mother – from their Karachi days when both of them wore saris and beehives and meat was ten rupees a ton and only the deserving had cars and even those who took their six children to school on a bicycle had happy smiles and only nice prayers for their car-driving betters.
Aunty Pussy says Nusrat Bhutto always had soft spots for her and when Benazir became Prime Minister first time in the ’80s, she even got Cockup Uncle, Aunty Pussy’s husband, a job in some pubic sector type ki organization, where work was very little and money was very much.
So I gave vote to PPP to show Mulloo vaghera that I’m not under their thumbs and Mummy gave hers to PPP because she thinks PPP is going to win and it’s good to do salaam to rising sun, na.
Anyways, I told Janoo on the phone (he was in Sharkpur helping his evil relly who was fighting from PPP’s side against Billoo, his brother-in-law, Psycho’s husband, who was in PML-Q) that we were voting for his side only and he was very happy and then I told him why and he was not so happy. He called us the Three Disgraces. Aik tau trying to make Janoo happy is also like milking a bull.
So we went to the pooling station in our new Land Cruiser. The pooling station was in a nice sa school in our neighbourwood only. Thanks God we live in Gulberg and not some slump type area where we would have to vote alongside all the bhooka nangas. But still I was worried keh koi suicide bomber shouldn’t come and blow us all up, but Mummy said, ‘Don’t be silly, darling, those types don’t live in Gulberg.’
So many women were waiting to vote keh we had to cue. I think so lot of them were there for Benazir. Most of them looked like they were well healed types, you know silk shalwar kameezes and designer bags, but still Aunty Pussy marched straight away to the front and demanded to go first.
So this woman in trainers and an oily platt, who I think so was minding the station, she asked us why. Imagine! The rudeness. So Aunty Pussy lifted her chin and said, ‘Because I happen to be a personal friend of Begum Bhutto.’ So this woman puts her hands on her hips, looks her up and down and says, ‘I don’t care if you are a personal friend of George Bush, you take your proper turn.’ Imagine what the country’s come to! Na koi lehaaz, na koi sharam, na koi manners.
Honestly! I tell you, it’s all the fault of that Musharraf. You know all that prosperity he gave to small type people, na, it went straight to their heads. So served him right when his PML-Q party and his darling Chaudhrys lost so badly, so badly that don’t even ask. I tau tell you, whole gardens were flowering in my heart when I heard that PPP had won hands down. I was so glad for Benazir, so glad for Janoo and so glad for myself – now I could crow to Mulloo.
So yesterday I called up Mulloo and said, ‘So sorry about the Chaudhrys. You all must be so sad, na, their loosing the election so badly.’
‘Chaudhrys who, baba? I don’t know who you could possibly mean,’ replied Mulloo. ‘We tau all voted for Nawaz Bhai and his PML-N. He’s always been such a close friend. And I am such an admirer of his wife, Bhabi Kulsum. So upright, so religious, she’s such a respiration for women. In fact, I’m just off to give mubariks with a trunk full of mithai. Byeeee.’
March 2008
Asif Zardari and Nawaz Sharif agree to form coalition government
Butterfly discovers Janoo’s favourite colour
Between you, me and the four walls, Janoo, poor thing, has not been same since Benazir’s murder. He’s started smoking again, na. After fifteen years. Socho zara! Also has started saying strangest, crackest things. Like yesterday he told me he wanted a green car. In all the years that I’ve been married to him he never once told me that green was his favourite colour.
Imagine! All these years he’s been hiding it from me. And there I was thinking keh he liked mud brown and mouse grey. Now I find that secret, secret mein he’s been fancying green all this time. I hope so he likes forest green or olive green and not parrot green or sub say worst, vomit green. I told him I’m always ready for a new car but does it have to be green? Can’t it be metallic blue instead? Or a smart sa steal grey colour? With coffee coloured leather ki seats?
He sighed and said, ‘Never mind.’
‘So shall we get a Prado or a new Land Cruiser or even a Lexus? Tell na,’ I asked, excited at the prospectus of driving into Mulloo’s drive away in my gleaming si, new si, huge si silver grey car with coffee brown leather seats. (They had to sell their red Porch last year, na, because Tony got into some trouble with the banks and now Mulloo who used to swan around like a real show-offer in the Porch has to sit with a bowed head in their five year old Corolla. Serves her right, vaisay. Got her just deserts.)
And then Kulchoo, that spoilt spot, said, ‘But Aba, it is actually not green to keep changing your car all the time. That’s needless consumerism. The best thing you can do for the environment is to keep your old car. Just use it less.’
Use it less? If I used my car any less it would be garlanded in cobwebs. Next he’ll be suggesting that I go to the bazaar myself on a bicycle every day and do the sauda. Honestly! Father tau was already crack, now son is also following in his footsteps. It’s all to do with hereditary and jeans, I’m told.
Aside from your looks shooks you also inherit your personality straights in your jeans. Chalo, yeh acchha hai, I thought to myself. Some people inherit lands, some inherit Swiss bank accounts, others inherit kothis, others inherit factories and firms and political parties and some inherit thick hair or green eyes or sharp cheek bones and fair si skin and what does my son inherit from his father? A cracked head. And knock knees, that’s what. It’s just not fair.
Excerpted with permission from The Return of the Butterfly by Moni Mohsin, published by Penguin Books India.
