Everything the Stranger Saw

From tomorrow, Muslims all over the world will start celebrating the second of their two annual festivals, Eid-ul-Azha. A ritual of sacrifice; where animals preferably goats, lambs and cows are slaughtered in the memory of an ancient sacrifice of Ismael (Isaac in christian tradition) by Abraham, satirized and mocked here by Mitchell and Webb. Apparently, God replaced Ismael just in time with a sheep and so the sacrifice of four-legged animals is repeated annually to remind them (Muslims, not four-legged animals.. Although the distinction is a difficult one to make) of the passionate zeal of Abraham that even let him get over fatherly love. Things might have been different if Ismael would have been sacrificed that day. Anyway, presently, this could be quite a lesson in fanaticism and dogma. But that's for another day.

What's so incredibly worth writing about is that in this country of mine, the already impoverished order of things is pushed into further disruption by this whole fiasco of a festival. Plain barbarianism, I say, and I'm not even averse to the slaughter of animals.! I, for one, am not a strict vegetarian. I eat meat; would love to continue to do so, rather unapologetically (on the other hand, I do respect vegetarians for their amazing control and discipline). See, I have heard that in some other countries, they have "Slaughterhouses", you go and pay them, they'll slaughter the animals, distribute the meat amongst the poor and the needy (as is required by the so-called Islamic rule) and give you your share of the meat. But, no, we are too unsure of a good procedure so what we do is buy the animal straight from an animal fair, bring it to our houses where we keep it for a few days before Eid, then when the slaughter is due, we go and fetch the butcher, who brings his knives, slays the animal in our front porch or garage or in the street and skins it and then hangs the animal to let whatever that's supposed to happen, happen and then makes the meat right there! Piece by bloody piece! Now that is primitive to say the least. It is also insanely preposterous!

Needless to say, I have not found an ounce of the so-called spirit of sacrifice in the way this stupid ritual is performed in Pakistan. Hundreds of thousands of rupees could be put to a much better use. But, no, we have to kill poor animals in the freezing cold of winter and then have massive barbecue parties in our lawns and parks for the next whole month. Rent some deep-freezers, people, meat is on its way! And what about the skin of the animals. Generously donated to the fucking Jamaat-e islami and all those banned militant jehadi outfits from Southern Punjab so that they can sell them to the tanneries and further fund their operations and kill people from this money indirectly generated from killing, well, animals. A vicious cycle come round.

It is quite ridiculous. The bloodbath, the intestines lying on the pavements. No fucking civic sense. The heaps of professional beggars lining the doors of these well to do homes turned slaughterhouses (zibhakhanas, really!)

And then all sorts of idiotic entertainment stems from this farce. For example, what the fuck is this supposed to mean! Who are these people, and ordinary Muslims would actually trust this. Say wow! that's a reasonable price for such a strong, heavy bakra. Let's buy this and get it delivered via the Daewoo Bus Service to our city! Sure, very convenient!

and this

and this
Hilarious even if photoshopped!

*Quack Quack* is the only known sound ever to have been heard of the legendary and mythical YRD! How that sound was heard? When and where it happened? That's a mystery. It is said that these secrets are held in the ancient scrolls of the order of the happy Dumbfucks. They do not guard the scrolls with their lives, for the happy Dumbfucks lost the scrolls during the great happiness of Antermeith 161 and when the great happiness of Antermeith 161 ended, they were so dizzy from all the joy and laughter that they vowed to never give a damn about the scrolls.

It is, however, still believed that YRD is quite possibly the creator and ruler of all the known parts of the galaxy (stretching from the vast planets of the shroomsville system to the vividly bright mountains of the crystallized nebulae of tryptaminea). In the second conference of the happy Dumbfucks, it was joked that the unknown part would only be assigned a creator after it becomes known.

The full form of YRD is rarely ever disclosed in the lost ancient scrolls of the order of the happy Dumbfucks and the very little that is known about it, is through the accidental teachings of the rogue happy Dumbfuck who got disillusioned from all the happiness surrounding him and tried to run away but changed his mind halfway through the runaway because he didn't know where to run to! Before returning, however, he did trade the only shred of the ancient scroll (then, not lost) that he possessed, and which he had actually secretly torn off before running away, for a map from the clever Trippies. The map was just a leaf of the tree of Guanon but since the rogue happy Dumbfuck had never seen either the tree of Guanon or its leaves, he followed the circular veins on the leaf to find his way back to the den of the order of the happy Dumbfucks.

The clever Trippies had never heard of the ancient scrolls of the order of the happy Dumbfucks and so they were able to accurately decipher the words written in clear orange letters on the shred, which they had swindled off the rogue happy Dumbfuck, as a possible full form of the terribly incomprehensible YRD.

The words in clear orange letters read: "Yellow Rubber Duckie"

Highlight of the day: nil, zilch, nada

zzzzzzzzzzz....

and I am doomed to stoop low and write about "my" day with "me" in it talking about "myself"...more than usual! Damn!

Sunday was boring, to the core. Woke up late, having refused an invitation to play a football match at 2pm by a friend (one match a week is enough, man! I'm not a fucking pro), and have stayed indoors since then. The only achievement being the tea I spilled on the carpet this afternoon, not my carpet though :P

Started watching Dexter's 4th season.. It's mind-blowing!! totally rocked... Read the reviews afterwards on tv.com; most people didn't like it! what? seriously! *shrugs*
Will try and come up to speed with the episodes this week :)


It's really cold inside the room and I imagine a light mist out there, no stars on a cloudy sky perhaps and a shiver-inducing chill... ah, but I'm too lazy, today, to go out and have a "real" look!

adios

I think I have found my blog's theme song! :)
"Musafir hoon yaaron"!!

Get this widget | Track details | eSnips Social DNA

Last week, a friend shared a nice article, about the decline of Lollywood under pressure of religious-based policies and piracy, on facebook. The full text can be read here. It was an interesting read, with references to a famous actor of yesteryear (and now director) , evoking the general nostalgia that comes with remembering the gone-by glory days of any institution or industry.

The article talked of how Zia's policies ordained the film business to be vulgar which started the downfall and the governmental patronage that the film industry was looking for never really resumed after his era. I don't agree completely. Not that religious based govt policies and piracy have not hurt the film industry, they have indeed affected it for the worse but somehow by saying this, the industry tries to comfortably lay clear of the blame. It is also their fault that things are how they are nowadays: a dwindling decadent mess. Lack of equipment doesn't stop one from writing a good screenplay. It doesn't stop from using the talents of the great crop of actors and directors that we have here either. Take Syed Noor for example, Chooriyan, Ghoongat and Majajan are definitely films I remember (and I watched them in a cinema!) and as my friend pointed out in our discussion about this article on facebook, creativity is a thing separate from unhelpful policies. Stifling environments can help produce the best art sometimes and we have had Sabiha sumar's 'khamosh pani', Feryal gohar's 'tibbi gali', even Omar Khan's "zibakhana" (in its own sense of genre) in recent years that can prove this point.

I know that it is a vicious cycle and if the industry isn't thriving, it certainly puts a damper on creative forces. But still there was a time when these industry wallahs could have owned up to this problem and helped avoid the circumstances we presently find ourselves in. Now, I'm afraid, it is really a Herculean task.

Revival of proper film production companies would be great for this cause, but I doubt that would happen since the existing producers can make better money by switching to tv or advertisements. However, they need to understand that if Race and Singh is Kinng can open to packed houses in Pakistan (people paying as much as Rs. 200 for a ticket in these new Multiplexes in urban centres) despite of the fact that these movies are available in the market for a mere Rs. 60 then definitely piracy is not a major reason for our decline.

One more thing, I find most people who talk about the revival of Cinema, of the opinion that Pakistan needs good cinema. I disagree, we don't exactly need good cinema for this revival (although it would be more than welcome) we need commercial movies! run-of-the-mill comedies and cheesy action flicks that would help turn in the cash! Hell, "budha gujjar" did more good to the whole Punjab circuit than "Ramchand Pakistani" could do for a single city.

The dream is shattered
yet again.
A million little pieces of glass.
Crunch crunch.
They are crushed
underneath the moving feet,
but no blood.
The sharp angles only tickle faintly.

Soft grass beckons, now,
under the warm sun of winter
let's sleep
to dream a new dream.

He was experienced and somehow, he knew it. "Chakkar tay laanay painday nay. Tusi amreeka jay jana ay!" Roughly translating to: "you'll have to make the rounds (of this office), because after all you are going to America." I'm sorry I beg your pardon? He has got to be kidding me, but I only barely smile and held back from saying, "How the hell do you know?" Because he just knew, that wily old clerk at window number 3.

I was at the office of the Federal Board of Intermediate and Secondary Education (FBISE) to get some documents verified, and I will not even talk about how complicated the procedures are! No wonder most of the poor folks who come there for a myriad of tasks are mostly confused and baffled and the advice from the information window is not always the politest. So, even I ended up paying them more than required and had to produce extra photocopies to stop the clerks from their smirking and sniggering.

The highlight of the day was, however, the old clerk with his snowy white hair and unshaven receding chin. When I commented upon the endless rounds one has to make to these governmental offices because of the superfluous procedures, he uttered the wisecrack mentioned above with an uncanny nonchalance and made me think if going to America was such a cliche nowadays. Probably it is, but then they have some pretty neat colleges and the financial aid at some is quite handsome too. I don't mind that. Then again, what he said could have been a total coincidence, but I would like to believe that it was based on keen observation.

Anyway, Monday's a national holiday because dear poet and philosopher who wrote such gems as

"tu qadir-o aadil hai magar tere jahan mein/
hain talkh buhut banda-e mazdoor kay auqaat"

and

"mera tareek ameeri nahi ghareebi hai/
khudi na baych, faqeeri mein naam paida kar"

and

"kabhi ay haqeeqat-e muntazir nazar aa libaas-e majaaz mein/
kay hazaaron sajday tarap rahay hain meri jabeen-e niyaz mein,"

Not to mention the "The reconstruction of religious thought in Islam", was born on this day and therefore I'll only get the documents back on Tuesday!

Ah,
"hazaaron saal nargis apni bay noori pay rowti rahi/
barri mushkil say hota hai chaman mein deeda-war paida."