8 Muharram 1425

Today I have finally learnt how to type Urdu in text form rather than making pictures for my urdu blog. This makes me very happy.

I know about two other people who started to use Urdu on their blogs. The first Urdu blogger was Umair . I saw Umair's blog and started my own Urdu blog. Now I noticed an Urdu blog of another friend Zack . Zack has also made an Urdu Webring .

To many of you out there this might not seem like a big deal. But it is. Urdu (Urdu + Hindi) is a language spoken as a first language by about 450 million people and it is understood by more than 1 billion people worldwide. And it is completely under represented on the net. So this thing is a big step for me.

So I will be changing over the material on my blog for picture to Unicode. The font is horrible but you have to bear with me.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

7 Muharram 1425

So why is it that there are times when I feel that I am completely psychotic? I know what you are thinking, despite my being completely normal I have such thoughts. Go figure. Why is it that there are times when I feel that being psychotic is good for me? Again, I am so normal I have no idea where this thought comes from.

I have been obsession about this all day. I have noticed that I have a soft spot for psychotic people. They are very interesting and have strange issues that are such fun to deal with. They are aware of their innate psychosis and hence being better than the riff raff. So if you are psychotic. I think there is a larger chance of you becoming my friend or my boyfriend.

So after writing a completely psychotic post and making all of you fear me more than you used to I will beg your leave. Good Bye and God Bless.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

6 Muharram 1425

Slightly calm after having to bear the burden of society yesterday.

A couple of friends went out today to get car tyres for a friend of ours. Now, you all aware (and, my friends are much more aware) that I do not know anything about cars. They asked me to check out the tyres for their rubber quality while standing by smoking and expecting me to tell them what they asked. I turned into a glob of jelly that has just changed shape due to abnormal chemical changes (read : to many nerve impulses). I stood there looking aghast at them. They looked back at me. And laughed. I hate them. But at least they can be humorous. Something that can not be said about many other people that I know.

Then later on we went to a dinner party. It was a large party with many people. Me and my friends were standing in one corner and trying to gobble more Koftaas than the annual meat consumption of the Vatican City. Suddenly a group of girls came up behind us (the best word to describe them would be : female dog) and quite loudly started making fun of people who can not speak proper English. They called these poor dears Urdu mediums and what not. And they seemed as if they were in college, so they were quite mature.

Now I do consider myself normal (yeah right Jalal, lie, that will get them to believe you) (hey, you shut up and leave my blog alone) but I did something I could never ever have thought possible in the past. I turned around to face them. I confronted the girl that was the most active amongst them. Turned my Classical Urdu on overdrive and asked her if there is anything wrong with being able to speak proper Urdu. She was taken aback but she was good. She said no there isn't but anyone who ever learnt Urdu never did anything useful or were able to speak English. To which there was a general peel of laughter amongst her cronies (I started disliking her so I will use the word cronies). Then I turned my English into overdrive and using the heaviest and most unneccary vocabulary told them about how they should first get an education and then talk about things she cannot possibly understand. She was about to say something when about 7,864 aunties swooped in from all sides and all the youngsters (combatants) were taken aside and prompty asked about which people from the other group they liked, so that marriages and other such trivial hetrosexual pursuits can be started.

It has been a very interesting day indeed.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

5 Muharram 1425



I just spent two hours with the most ill mannered, disfunctional, evil and uncultured family ever.

They comprise of a Gentleman (distant relative) and a Lady. Their two daughters who are one and three years old. And the Lady's Parents.

The Gentlemen while trying to stop his 3 year old daughter from doing something screamed at her 'sooar ki bacchi' (piglet). My blood froze and I melted into the earth. The wrost thing that my father had ever said near me was Goof. This expletive is never ever uttered. I was sitting there in shock.

At this point the Lady comes in and start to say (very loudly) that the gentleman is wasting his time by sleeping all the time and she has to meet wtih people. She was too loud. I was so embarrased. I wanted to literally run away.

Then the lady's mother came in and started to take the side of her daughter and started telling her son in law how lucky he is to have her. All this in front of guests. And the most horrible thing is. It was natural to them. They did not feel at all awkward about it. I was dying within. Their lack of civilizaton was murdering me slowly.

Then the Lady's father trying to get his son in law's attention about something called him by saying OYE. Now oye is used by fishermen and street fighters.

By this moment I was so shocked that I told them I was ill. I went into the bathroom to apparently clean up. And then I went out for some fresh air.

It was the most horrible visit to anyone's house ever.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

4 Muharram 1423

Now I dont usually miss out on posts. But I had no idea that I forgot to post yesterday. But then again my work load is killing me. But I really do love my job (really) (no, no, I am not kidding).

I was talking to my friend Hasan from Toronto. He asked me what I was thinking. I told him I was thinking about the topic for my blog post today and he said.

Hasan : write that gay men are cruel, heartless, sex-mongrers
Me : What ?
Hasan : and then in the end write well 'most are'

I can not say I agree with him more. But then again I am agreeing with him so he will think that I am a good person. And maybe even fall in love with me. Hmmmm. I hope that he doesnt read this. Because I have never told him I was interested in him. Well, actually I am not. But whatever. I want to flirt. It is a very nice experience.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.


I never thought this day would come. But after one night's sleep. And within 24 hours of a depression taking over me. I am cool (not 'kewl' cool, 'cool' cool), calm and collected.

I am shocked that this time it did not take me two to three weeks to calm down.


I think I must be growing up or something.

A very interesting experience indeed.


DAMN MY DAMNED Middle class moderate upbringing.

DAMN my parents for teaching me that honour and respect come above money and that sex ourside marriage is wrong.

DAMN the fact that I am a 23 year old virgin. Too conscious of doing something wrong that I did not take the first step.

DAMN the fact that I am never able to make a first move.


DAMN the fact that I will never find anyone.

DAMN it all.

What the fuck is the use anyways.

Confound it .... every guy I seem to like and try to talk to turns out to be in love with someone else.


I am on the edge of being angry. Next time if I actually get angry. You might get some very open and uncensored Urdu expletives. Something to look forward to.

2 Muharram 1425

I went to my office today. Regular day. Nothing special. Nothing out of the blue. I walk into my boss's office. I see something that I can only call a delectable hunk of man meat. He hadnt shaved for 3-4 days and he was scruffy. Well, lets just say that, within 10 minutes animals within a radius of ten kilometers started to behave strangely because they could smell my scent. No. I am a lame loser who noone will like. So nothign happened. The irony of my life.

Has it ever happened to you that you went into your office. Met a lot of guys. Then after ten minutes you realize that your fly is open and that everyone must have noticed it. No. It hasn't. Oh. Well. It happened to me today.

I hate myself.

Oh and in other news. The last five guys that I met online. Who I liked as well (something that is uncommon), at least enough to think about seeing if it works out all the same. Told me exactly the same thing. That they are in love with someone else. So why do I get interested in people who are single but in love with someone else. My life sux. It really really really fucking sucks. I am never gong to find a normal guy. I will be kicked out from my house because I am gay and I wont have my family. I will never find a guy who might even consider to love me so I wont have a home. So basically all prospects of life suck.

Now I can get back to joking and being merry. Like I did all my life to hide that I might not be all that happy. So, BIG SMILES and a bevy of stupid jokes.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

1 Muharram 1425

Today is the first day of the new Islamic Year 1425 AH.

Today I was made to watch an Indian movie through some family pressure. Very much like what they do when they want you to marry the girl of their choice - mind games, emotional blackmail and reminders of the fact that they are getting old and will die soon. And all for an Indian movie. Petty. So, I watched "Kal Ho Na Ho" with my family. My first contemporary Indian movie in a while. Durign the course of the movie I came to three conclusions.

A - The Islamic Republic of Pakistan is spread upon 803,940 square kilometers and the Republic of India is spread upon 3,287,590 square kilometers. Then why in the name of all that is sweet and beautiful are the movie industries of these countries completely incapable of finding locations in their own countries where they can make movies?
B - I hate Shahrukh Khan. He has exactly the same frikking accent and intonation and voice and sound in every movie. The same frikking semi-retarded moronic imbecilic stammer of half-stammer in every movie. He has exactly the same movements, expressions, acting, emotions and well everything in every one of his movies. Well if you are reading this, Shahrukh, yar you seriously need to learn how to act differently in different situations, and you are not Shahrukh Khan in every movie you have different characters try to play them rather than you. GOD!
C - Saif Ali Khan is hot beyond anything that I imagined he would be.

But otherwise it is a good movie. I would recommend it for fans of Urdu movies or Indian Cinema.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

29 Zilhaj 1424

The last night of the Islamic Year? Well maybe. We will find out tomorrow.

To my horror, I am beginning to get search results from Google that point to my spelling mistakes (Really!). I don't know if I should be ashamed or shocked. And I don't know why I should be either.

Hmmmm. I think some serious brain damage may have been sustained by me. Which is showing itself in the contents of this entry being completely strange as far as human faculties of reasoning and thought are concerned.

Well what can I say. I have realized that I have no idea how to talk to people. I always end up saying things that eventually push people away. Yes, Yes, You are right. A much delayed attack of depression is about to start.

I can only wish for the best.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

28 Zilhaj 1424

I (just like everyone else) realize after small intervals of time (few years) how I have matured with time. This realization usually dawns with a sudden flashing memory of something I did in the past and do not think I will ever do again (unless lunacy overtakes me). Recently I have learnt that it actually is a continuous process. Thank goodness for the process of thinking.

There is something that I did quite often in college(University for those you would think otherwise). I have somehow stopped doing it after college. I have attributed this change to different factors at different times. What are they? Oh, ok, they would include maturity, better mental health, fear of being caught and ostracized from the community and the fact that I want to be more grown up than most 12 year olds.

I am about to tell you what it is. Do not judge me. I am still a good person. Here it is, when I am too excited I talk to myself in the mirror (I told you not to judge me!). Last time that I noticed doing that was today. I was saying to myself "You are so excited arent you, OH MY GOD!!! You are so excited". That is when I relized I was talking to myself. I stopped immediate. Blushed infront of my image. Realized that that was even more strange. Left the bathroom. And decided to become normal as soon as possible.

I caught myself talking to my image an hour later. Then another thought hit me. Maybe I am not rid of the habit. Maybe I am so used to it that I do not notice it any more. I am not drinking man so I will raise my glass of water (boiled, since all drinking water is boiled in Karachi) to Psychosis and to severe issues with being normal.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

Weekly search results

I think I will make a common practice of posting the interesting search results for the week on every Friday.

talles building in Pakistan ---> The MCB Towers / Plaza now under construction on I.I.Chundrigarh road in Karachi.
site about railway information of karachi CANT station ---> You should go to Pakistan Railways for this information.

animals for eid in karachi ---> Oh what painful memories of blood and sacrifices.
jalal karachi blog "black fish" ---> Whoa. Someone has been reading this blog some time back and is back now.
pakistani jewellery ---> That is a lie. I do not wear jewellery.

Pakistani Slut ---> Seems like Yahoo found out about my party antics.
"brad pitt" "any underwear" ---> And to end up on my blog. How gay am I.

aunties lahore pakistan for a fuck ---> Hetrosexual sex is so sick.
desperate karachi aunties ---> With the fear of repetition but heterosexual sex is so sick. But being extremely needy and desperate and sex starved is worse.

27 Zilhaj 1424

And today, for your amusement, an interesting story from a little while back.

While talking to a friend I was reminded of my first brush with think accents. Two very different sets within a span of nine hours (Yes). It was on my flight from Karachi to New York via Manchester. When we got down from the plane in Manchester I realized that I was in England (Wait for the importance of this issue). No, no, it was a very big thing for me to be in Britannia. I also knew what I had to do, since I was on English soil. Oh. For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about - I had to go and buy a Lilliput Lane house or other structure. I found the perfect cottage and went to the counter. I asked for the price. The gentleman said something. Now I was pretty sure it was not English. So I told him that I can only speak English or Urdu and what was it worth. He made a longist reply. During the course of which I checked for different languages. Something to the tune of English-No French-No Urdu-No Persian-No Arabic-No (It was a long sentence). I was at Arabic when I realized that this will not do (Hey you! at the back! Stop making fun of me! I can differentiate between these languages). I thought he was using Gaelic of Welsh and I decided to take matters into my own hands. We started writing on paper to communicate. His first sentence was "You dont understand my accent". We decided paper is better. But I did one thing. I used all my reserves of vocabulary to show to him that I do know English. A simple transaction took about 15 minutes. I always blamed my English until recently when I was told that the Mancunian accent is nasty.

After seven hours.

Haggard, tired and extrememly capably of chewing the heads of sabre tooth tigres I entered JFK International Airport in New York City. The initial greeting was a series (and I mean ad nauseum) of long passages. Completely white and with no openings. The feeling inside me grew a bit more. Then we finally reached immigration. The lady there said something. I looked at her. I am sure I must have had an impression of bewilderment to shame the best of actors. She immidiate said something else. I was in shock and panic. I realized that there may have been a couple of English words in there. But I had no idea what she was saying. To which I tried to talk to her. To my surprise she understood me perfectly when I was saying "I can't understand you" "I can't understand you". By this time all the frightening prospects started to hit me. I was told that the immigration people are tough and that I will not get a long enough visa if I mess anything up. By now I was half way to a nervous breakdown. My sister intervened. She talked to the lady. Then they passed a flurry of notes. All the while I sat there and cursed her odious accent and her lack of an education.

Thank God the same did not occur on my return journey. Of course living in the US for 2 months helped.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

26 Zilhaj 1424

I saw an interesting movie today "The Butterfly Effect". I would recommend it as a must see. It was very interesting. And the same thing happened to me that happens every time. Everytime I see a movie that shows any form or format of psychologically paranormal situations my mind gets completely skewed. When I saw "Mememto" I lost all sense of time for about 5-6 hours. No, no, really, I did. When I saw "Fight Club" I could not grasp reality for about two days. I thought everything was going on as it did in the movie. This is what happens to me. I get too involved into such movies and then when the movie finishes it keeps going on in my mind at some level.

On top of the completely messed up and psychologically imbalanced situation I was in I decided to do something to aggravate it.

I decided to try a little of drugs. There is this drug called "Mallu" or what we might call Rod. It is mixed in cigarettes and smoked. I did not take a lot of it. I took about one puff. But that was enough. Within an hour I was lying on the bed. And I was having the strangest of thoughts. It was as if suddenly I have 500 different threads of thought running in my mind. And I am no multi tasking Operating System. It was very very strange. I think I could have done anything at that time (I was at my cousin's house). I wanted to try and fly. I remember I was walking in the room and wondering why I did not take off as an aeroplane. Then one of my friends jokingly told me to make a sentence is Urdu that is so hard that noone can understand. I kept making up English sentences.

And then I was having a sever problem with time. I was continuously feeling as if I am going back and forth in time. Now back. Now forth.

Moral : You should not get high after watching a movie that has completely messed up your brain.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

25 Zilhaj 1424

A day full of nothing at all. Not even boredom. Hence nothing to blog about.

I have made another post to My Personal Information Weblog.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

24 Zilhaj 1424

I am turning into a pyromaniac. Anyone who saw what I did to the Pizza I made today would agree. But there were no witnesses. At least none alive. As you have guessed I still have not mastered the art of pizza making in 5 tries. I like to think that noone else does either. And the topping today was the worst edible produced by a male in Karachi since 1978. I hear that in 1978 on of my uncles tried to make Biryani. So both there are in the family. What a moment to rejoice.

I went out with the gang from my neighbourhood to eat out. And I finally realized that I am not a horrible chef. I am a good chef. At least compared to the guy who has the audacity to cook for a commercial restaurant. In short. We laughed so much that we ended up spilling half of our drinks. We were so sarcastic at the desk that the man wanted to kill us. And we were so loud that people wanted to pull our hair. Exactly what I call a good night out with the guys.

Oh and I am still wallowing in the memory of the party.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

The First Gay Party (St Valentine's Day Party) (Part III) (Hissa Soem)

First of all I would lke to tell you all that I am very scared of meeting people through the gay connection. Since I have only known them over the net I feel strangely uncomfortable meeting them. Which I have done with only 3 guys. Yesterday I decided to see how it is like to meet many many gay guys. A very impulsive thing. But I decided to do it anyways.

This was the first time that I was with so many other gay men that I had time to learn about Karachi's Gay circle and it's gay men. And sortof gay men in general. And yes most of the party was spent standing in corners and looking at the people and what they were doind. Paying attention to the differnet kinds of people and how they behaved and how their dancing proved certain things about them.

For me the evening started at 2135 when I left to meet up with a couple of friends. I had never seen them. So I was very nervous like I always am. Lesser mortals would have crumbled under the pressure that is why God does not make them this nervous. So I met up with them and I waited for them to get dressed. During the course of which they talked. It was soon established that I am too macho to be a bottom. And idea that pushed me into a state of shock and anguish. Shock because I was always told that I am very effeminate. But then again I think standards differ between spit-on-the-road straight men and on-what-a-darling-scarf gay men. Anguished because as I suspected all the overtures made to me during the night (and frighteningly so through the rest of my life) would be by poeple bottomer / more effeminate than me. Which is definitely not what I want. So my life is, basically, ruined.

Then we started off for the party in cabs. I was a nervous wreck. I was getting more and more edgy as we got closer. This was a big step. Once I enter through the gate, I will be officially gay. And many people there will know that I am gay. For me, not a very comforting thought. I was thinking about opening the cab door saying sorry to the other inmates (I use the term jokingly here) and leaving. But I persevered and did not do something that drastic. So we finally reached our destinated and in a state of dazed confusion and abject fear I entered the house. At this moment I was officially gay. And a large part of the nervousness ended. Since no claps of thunder were heard. And no bolts of lightning fell on my head. No great earthquakes opened up the earth in which I would be sucked in. No monstrous eagles took me to faraway place and tore at my livers on mountain tops. Basically it was as normal as it can be. Thank God.

As soon as the door to the house opened I saw Disco Lights, A lot of people (heads really), Very loud music, A lot of raised hands and last but the most important smoke. It was like a thick soup of smoke. So I entered reluctantly into that smoke. Expecting a mixture of Cigarette and and assortment of Drug smells. But there wasnt any. I later on saw a smoke machine. DOH JALAL DOH. Well I went in. Saw a lot of people dancing to very loud music. Seemed interesting. I immediately stood in one corner and started to see the proceedings. Sweating profusely I might add.

There were a lot of guys. And they were gay. And they were in their environment and they were feeling ok in it. I was a nervous wreck. Then I saw two guys kissing. I was shocked to see it for the first time. It was like two gusy kissing in public. I was expecting people to beat them up. But then I saw other people going the same thing. It felt so strange. It felt as if I was normal. And that my feelings guys are not an aberration here. Felt cozy. Hmmm enough with the mushy stuff. I am a man and I eat meat off the bone (necessary reassurances). Well I felt normal there. Upon inquiring from a friend I was told that I can stare at guys. I can check em out actually. And I can look at people kissing. Which was the greatest thing that happened to me.

So I stood in the corner for about one hour. Not moving at all. Avoiding eye contact and looking at the sexy men. Oh, and holding onto the crown. Because I was not solely a wallflower. I was "His most serene majesty, The Emperor of Wallflowers". Well I was standing in a corner looking at the men. And cursing myself for not dancing with the ones that I liked. There were a few there. But I didnt feel normal (non-nervous) enough to go onto a dance floor. That coupled with the fact that I have never danced before induced in me a incrippling fear and anxiety which held me rooted to my spot. For some time.

Then I decided to check out the drinks room. There were two stalls. One for the pious and virtuos muslims who will suck on each others tonsils but will not have alcohol. Water, Coke (Yes I said coke because it is coke) and a strange tangy juice. The other stall was for normal non-hypocritical humans. It had an assortment of alcholic drinks. I went to the alocohol thing. But they were charging. And I was not ready to pay for bitter bitter drinks. Because my previous experience with alcoholic drinks was not good. So I deicded against it and had coke and came back to the same spot to sit on my throne, or rather, stand on it.

Then as I was lamenting my condition a guy came up and started dancing and forcing himself on me. To which I tried to tell him not to. But he did not listen. Then I told him "Thank you but goodbye" He still continued. My friends since the first moment were telling me to join them on the dance floor. And I took this moment. To take refuge in the arms of my friends. And I ran like the wind and joined them in the fray of lusty bodies and naked desires. It was really very nice. So this way I took another step onto the ladder of religious doom and a rewarding gay sex life. Once on the floor my friend told me that I can hit on guys on the floor it is very very allowed. I was still feeling a bit nervous so I declined.

So we danced and had a drink (non-alcoholic of course), danced, drink, danced, drink. I had by this time narrowed the list of hot guys to about 8-12. That I would like to dance with. But since I am such a freak I could not do it. But then a ray of light descended from the heavens and showered me with blessings. One of the guys was next to me on the dance floor and he was alone. So I thought "Why the hell not?". And shockingly(at least for me) He did kick me or anything he joined me as well. Ahhh well the wonders of life. So this was my first ever dance with another guy. Yay. Now about 1 minute into the dance he decided that he wanted a kiss. Initially I stalled for about 3 seconds. Then my hormones and my inner slut kicked in. And I again said "Why the hell not?". And I had my first kiss (proper kiss) with another guy.

About 2 minutes later I noticed that he is leanign against a wall and I am all over him. That is when I realized that I am a slut. And that I am really gay. And on both counts I was so happy for myself. It was as if I had finally passed the test and come upto my greatest ideals.

So I wasnt going to let go so we kept kissing and kissing and kissing. About half way I said to him "I want to suck your moustache". I know I know I don't seem like this. But apparently I am a sex crazed maniacal freak. He said yes. So I promptly set about doing it. About 50 minutes of kissing and I stopped. I had a feeling that I should try out another guy.

This is when I realized that I am a bitch as well. Another great ideal that I so perfectly came upto.

Well then the party was kind of monotonous. Dancing. Kissing guys. Grabbing them. Getting grabbed. Continously wallowing in the glory of being a complete slut and a bitch.

Then I just stopped to observe them all. How they were like. There were guys who were complete queens. They accosted random men and dance with them. They would wish to have been women but they were not. There were effeminate guys who were looking for more macho guys. They were men who wanted to refer to themselves as women and hence feel happy that they will get a man. There were the macho guys who were: Oh so hot. Generally the clothing would tell you which group who belonged to. The queens were all wearing shorts or boxers and make up. The effeminate guys where all wearing slightly femine dresses and colours. The macho guys were dressed as the normal straight guys (yes, those poor unfortunate people) that we see on the streets. A very interesting mixture of types and people. All different. In dress, makeup, thought, outlook and appeal. A very very wide spectrum if you would ask me.

And yes it is true. I am amongst the macho type. DAMN IT. Oh and in other news. My clothing was completely inappropriate. I felt as if I went to the UN General Assemply session wearing torn shorts and a skin tight mesh shirt (with my stomach size, that would look disgusting).

The evening went on and on and on and then it suddenly stopped and we all came back. When I was walking back to my home in my street at 0601. I met a guy who was going to the mosque for the morning prayers. I see him sometimes when I am up early. He prays and then he walks in the neighbourhood. It was kind of odd. I was ending a night of unislamic lusts. And he was beginning a day of pious disciplined worship.

Well, Never the twain shall meet. There will always be these two extremes. After all that is what is the fun in life. Because if we didnt have right wingers, who the hell will we make fun of?

The First Gay Party (St Valentine's Day Party) (Part II) (Hissa Doem)

A list of the quantities of the parameters involved in the party. A warning is heretoforth issued that some of the following material may be an exageration of the truth.

Left home : 21:35
Number of guys kissed : 4
Number of guys who felt me up : 5
Number of Dance Partners : (Let me think) I am sorry. I am a whore. I dont remember.
Kilometers Walked : (Let me see) 7.2 Gagillion
Reached Home : 06:05
Number of guys I stopped from Kissing me : 3
Number of times I wanted to say "I want to suck your moustache" : 88,563
Number of times I said "I want to suck your moustache" : 1
Number of times I got to suck a moustache : 1
Number of guys who felt me up and I did not even see who it was : 1
Amount of water I drank : In the vicinity of 75 litres.
Number of guys I wanted to play around with : 9 (Really, really bad)
Number of times I choked because someone's tongue was in my windpipe (this being a slight exageration) : 2
Number of guys I felt up : 4
Number of guys who I met up who I have known from before : 8
Number of guys who I met up who I have known from before, who knew how to talk to human beings, and who knew how not to act like frigid constipated assholes : 2
Minutes that I kissed the first guy for : 50
Number of alcoholic drinks : 0

A list of words that during the course of the evening (and later on after it) I think I will want to use to describe myself during the evening.

Horny bBitch
Lusty slut
Immoral whore

The First Gay Party (St Valentine's Day Party) (Part I) (Hissa Awal)

The shortest summary of my evening.


(For those of you from the west this should be easy because you should know Latin.
For those of you from south asia this should be easy because you should know History.)

22 Zilhaj 1424

Spent most of day enjoying weekend. Going over to relatives to pick up trivial things like lamps and pots and loads of money.

Then I went to the first gay party of my life. More about that in the next three posts.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

21 Zilhaj 1424

In Pakistan you get to see a lot when you are on the road. Inner city travel of course. Now, I have never seen anyone skating in Pakistan ever. The only experience that I have is form movies and my trip to the US. Imagine my consternation(Dont try, as there wasnt a lot) when I see four people skating on a main road. Yes. A main road. They were in complete gear and they were actually skating. And I saw them glide through 2 signals. Yeah. I know. It was so interesting to see that. And so very very uncommon.

Another incident, on the same day. Yeah I know, what a roll. I was at a traffic signal when opposite I saw two motorcycles stop. Then the drivers shook hands and hugged (In Pakistan hugging is a common practice when you meet someone, the lack of it might be considered rude and offensive). I was thinking about how small a chance it is for two people to meet like this in a city of 11 million people. But then to my absolute surprise the guy in the car next to one of them rolled down his window shook hands with the motorcyclist. And well the odds just went out of the drawing board.

So, all in all today was a day of experiencing fat chances. Oh I wonder why I said fat.

Oh and I am looking forward to the party tomorrow. It is a chance for me to finally get laid. But I am sure I won't have the nerve to take that step.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

I am so so so fucking gay.

I am so so so so so so so happy. Two of my friends just grew up. I got the news ten minutes ago. I am so happy.

20 Zilhaj 1424

There is an interesting new (as in 2 years old) TV Channel "Geo" in Pakistan. It has some very good programs where people actually at times mumble out the truth. Hence it is the apple of the eyes of the Pakistani Bourgeoisie and other educated Pakistanis. There is a program on it called "Uljhan Suljhan" which is about people having problems and how to deal with them and they take actual cases at hand. I think they are about to air a program about homosexuals. This is a VERY VERY VERY (The no-all-caps rule does not apply here since only the all-caps can denote the emphasis I am trying to give here) big thing. For homosexuality to be talked about out in the open in Pakistan is completely unheard of.

The only other time that I ever saw about homosexuality was when "The Herald" magazine ran a section about 'The other side of Midnight' (Or somwhat of a similar name) about homosexuality. It was a very long time ago but I remember it because it was the only thing that came to my eyes about homosexuality. Of course except for the Chippendale centrefolds in Cosmo, for which I had to sneak the Cosmos into my room. Of course later on I learnt it is not about gay men at all. But whatever. At least I was happy back then.

On a different note. There are many common abbreviations used nowadays in online chatting and messaging services. I was quite sure I am used to most of them. But a few new ones do poke out from time to time. Imagine my consternation when I came face to eye with fbit. Upon enquiry I got the following answer to the query so interestedly put forth "frustrated bitch in town". I immediately fell in love with the person who coined it originally. And, if you are reading this, email me for you are meant to be mine.

Oh. Albeit unwittingly I just gave you all an example of a scenario where you can all call me fbit.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

19 Zilhaj 1424

Well, I can not let the small things go. Yes, you are right. I made one more Pizza today. Yes laugh at me if you will. But I liked doing it. This one turned out to be very reasonable. I could eat it without closing my nose or feeling disgusted. But it did not taste good. I would rather have eaten dried figs. Or friend vegetables without any spices added to them. In ther words. It did not taste good at all. But. This one looked like a pizza and smelt like a lower form of the species.

So It seems that life is going well for me. Well I have to agree. It is. It is going quite well. I am shockingly in a good mood for quite some time now. Which is uncommon for me. A bad bad mood is long overdue. Also I am very happy that this time I am not looking forward to the bad mood. Which is slightly uncommon for me. Well what can I say except that I can be a very interesting person at times. Ah, well. I think I will leave it at that. Self Praise can be a bad thing. None of you should ever indulge in it.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

18 Zilhaj

Oh how the mighty have fallen!

In case you are wondering, I am talking about myself.

In case you are wondering, I am eluding to today's pizza baking fiasco. Yes. I decided to make a Pizza today. And I worked slightly hard in trying to bake it. But when I took it out of the oven. It was horrible. It had a completely unacceptable smell. It had a completely unacceptable look. It had a completely unacceptable taste.

I have decided that untill I correct this problem I will not rest. No silly. I am not working on that Pizza. I will bake one Pizza a day till I get it right. And like every other thing I will be blabbering here about that. So I hope you will bear with me.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

17 Zilhaj 1424

I am sure you have read the previous post. Kind of an impulsive thing to do I might add. Like many others that I end up doing.

So how do you feel when someone you know and have grown to trust a bit stabs you in the back. What ? It doesn't feel that good. Oh. I think I would agree with you. Because that is exactly how I feel.

But you know what feels better? To forgive them and regain their trust in a matter of only one week. They begin to worship you for being the nice guy who forgave them and helps then. Then when you realize that you have turned one who cheated you into one who will not do that again and who likes you and trusts you. You stab them in the back so hard the blade comes out the front. Now to see the look change from puppy dog eyes to shock and awe. That is what feels better. Giving them a stronger dose of their own medicine.

A mixture of Chanikya and Machiavelli. I have to say.

Oh ... and in case you think this was my story you are wrong. I am the one who was stabbed and felt sorry for himself.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

Thank God

17 Zilhaj 1424

An irregular post, something slightly uncommon for me now.

Thank God I am gay. And. Thank God I am psychotic. These two situations make me much much better than average sane and hetrosexual humans. I wallow in the wonders of my particular situation.

16 Zilhaj 1424

I love having guests over. Last night was fun. I was sitting with people who are either too old or too young. Noone had anything to talk about. It was getting very very awkward. Since I am the perfect gentlemen and the apple of humanity's eye. And since I can not bear to be in awkward situations and have to defuse them no matter what. I kept introducing all these interesting topics. And all of whome were deliberated upon for a time period of 2-3 minutes and another silence began. It was very very exciting. And the shocker was that I ran out of topics. The topics left were 'dildos and gay sex' and 'eating rotten eggs'. I am sure both would not have been acceptable in Pakistani society. Hence I kept quiet.

Next time when I have to spend more than 2 hours with people more than 20 years my age or less 4 years my age. I will burn myself using the huge stove that we have in the kitchen. That way I will get to spend the time in bed and save myself the agony (Yes you heard it right, burning is a lesser evil in this case). What ? You don't know. You weren't there ok. If you were there you would also choose burning.

Oh, and the guy who was 5 years yonger than me. My gaydar says he is gay. And unfortunately it doesn't seem as if he has accepted this by now. Which is a pity. But I did get a vague idea that he was hitting on me. Now why the hell can't people I am interested in come onto me. Why do I have to bear this. And yes yes I know I know what you are going to say. I will stop before this turns into a full blown rant. That is to say. I will stop it now.

An interesting search today,
I want to send my pictures to take part in Pakistani channel PTV dramas ---> Now that is the correct usage of search engines.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

15 Zilhaj 1424

So here we are. The ides of Zilhaj. Since the Islamic months do not fall in the same seasons I can not find an interesting thing to say about the weather on the ides of Zilhaj. So it is pretty much normal weather.

As you saw yesterday I deleted a post. I had written a long post about my first quasi sexual encounter. No No. I havent told you guys about this one yet. It will be posted inshallah in the future when I get time to write about it again. So to give you a small thing I will tell you about my first crush in university.

It was summer. It was my first semester. I had walked into an air conditioned cafeteria to see what hunks inhabit it. Me and my friend took a table and I sat with a view of the inside of the cafe. Checking out the guys that walked in. Since I was not out to my friend by this time I could not tell them the usual 1-10 ratings of the guys that walked in. I was getting bored and decided to actually pay attention to an argument going on, on our table, about pants / jeans. Then I suddenly look up and a guy is standing next to out table. And he was what I would call a '9'. And for the next one year I salivated whenever I met him. He used to wear tight shirts and he has muscle growth that would have scientists clamouring for his hormones. And he used to be 'it'. Then he left ... I didnt even get a chance to tell him how I feel about it. Thank God. With those muscles. One minute of beating would be equal to being bludgeoned by a mace for an hour. So here I sit talking about this and seeming more and more like a complete loser.

Oh and I am very excited to say that on a scale of 1 (Macho) - 10 (Effeminate) I was judged to be a 1.5. By a friend who said that the average is 4. So from now on I will not feel sorry for myself about being effeminate. This can open up a whole world of opportunities for me. I have no idea why. I am just saying it because that sentence sounds cool.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

14 Zilhaj 1424

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13 Zilhaj 1424

Ahhhhh. The wonder of nights out with my college buds. Eating at horribly overpriced restaurants. Talking more than one human should in a night. Laughing loudly. Searchig for cabs. Getting rejected by two cabs because they aren't going my way. Discussing why we dont like each other's way of eating.

I might that at one point Coke was gushing out of my nose. I really should learn not to laugh with my mouth full.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

12 Zilhaj 1424

Today I got up at the friends house. Dazed with all the tea and coke we had last night. A big big hangover. The specific coke and tea hangover when you want to keep sleeping. But we got up. The most interesting thing was that we got up only to ruin each other's sleep. The basic reason I forced myself to get up first was to wake the others and see their expressions full of hatred and malice. I didn't miss one. I love myself. And when you meet me, you will too.

Our family suddenly decided that we should go boating. Which includes going to Kaemari / Port (Which is at the other end of Karachi for us). Then getting on a boat and sailing off to a slight distance. Look at the lights and eat the food cooked right there on the boat for us. As it turned out the trip to the port was uneventful. Then when we got there a swarm of locust like marketeers engulfed our hapless family. Fighthing for the market share that we represent. Eventually one of the best bids got us. The boat was small. Twenty feet. But enough for a dozen people.

I have never been on water. So this was the first time I was going to sail. Excitedly I boarded the thing which moves violently due to my weight. Then everyone joined in as if it were normal for the boat to ricket like a twig in a hurricane. I decided to like it and not obsess about the eventuality of the boat capsizing and everyone swimming to shore and me being led off on a swift current to a far off island inhabited by me and three women. Disgusting. So I didnt think about it.

It was a wonderful feeling. The boat was moving on the waves. It was slowly moving away from the lights into the inky black waters. We could see the stars. I like was the first to pinpoint Polaris (like every time). I am the best at it. With a lot of reservations from the rest of my family of course. But we wont mention that.

Oh and the food was wonderful. Fried Crabs, Crab soup, Crap lollipop, Spicy Crabs and Potato Curry. WOW. WOW. WOW. A complete delight. It was wonderful food. I would suggest everyone in Karachi to take their family there immediately. It would be an evening to remember.

Oh and I learnt one thing. I suffer from sea sickness.

Awe inspiring searches for the day.
stock guid karachi stock exchange ---> Khushi say mar na jatey agar aitebar hota.
Inside Cafe "karachi" ---> I live in Karachi. But honest to God, I have no idea what this is about.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

11 Zilhaj 1424

Second day of Eid. Everyone's holiday. And everyone's holiday tomorrow. A friend from college came to Karachi. So we got together at another college friends house. I usually need a heavy dose of my college friends ever so often. But unfortunately there aren't a lot in Karachi. So every chance we get, we use. Well suffice to say that the evening started young and ended old.

There was the usual exchange of information about who is doing what, who is planning to do what, who failed in doing what, people's results, (how sad that) they got such awful marks, who is not talking to who now and last but not least who said what in retort to their boss and left the job (these are very rare and since none happened this time we used an old one from last time and oohed and aahed like we heard it the first time).

Then we had a dinner (No chicken due to the chicken flu scare) and a lot (and I mean a lot) of coke and tea. Since we dont drink alcohol like all normal Pakistanis we have to make do with coke and tea. Which doesn't get us drunk but makes us feel good (I have no idea how or why).

Charged up on coke and tea the evening really began. As the evening progressed and we got sleepy and as the effect of the coke and tea started to sink in we started making all those semi-retarded semi-funny semi-interesting jokes that we so lovingly remember from our university. Ahhhhhh. The good old days. With time we had started making jokes that would have been demeaning to any normal human intellect not charged up on coke and tea.

We decided that before we go over the brink we should let others make the jokes. So we put on a few episodes of Mr Bean. To which we laughed our brains out (and I mean it ... I had to pick up my brain from besides the bed when I got up the next morning). At some point during the episodes we all went to sleep.

Those of you who think alcohol induces hangovers are so seriouly lacking in knowledge. Tea and Coke have an effect as well. You dont want to get up. It takes you more than 5 minuted to wake up. I call it the party night hangover. You have NO idea what it is like. In those five minutes you feel as if you will not want to wake up at all. A severe physical as well as mental state it seems to be.

As an eid gift to myself I saw 'Casablance' earlier in the day. WOW! That is one good movie. "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine". It is a classic. It must be seen.

you must remember this
a kiss is just a kiss
a sigh is just a sigh
the fundamental things apply
as time goes by
and when two lover woo
they still say i love you
on that you can rely
no matter what the future brings
as time goes by

Now the interesting searches for the day
pakistani,indian Khanay In Urdu Language ---> Ohk Ohk why the hell is google telling me that I am fat ???
temprature of karachi ---> As I always say ... What heavenly weather doth thou have, O Karachi.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

10 Zilhaj 1424

Ahhhhhh. Eid.

I am sure you must have read my hysterical post about the qurbani. I am relatively calm now.

Like every eid we went to the house of our oldest relatives. This year it was my mother's aunt and uncle. Like every eid we had Yakhni Pulao and an assortment of other things to eat. Kind of a traditional Eid lunch. The turn of hosting the Eid lunch has passed from one couple to another at least since our family migrated to Pakistan in 1948. But it is an interesting tradition. Specially the Yakhni Pulao. Ahhhhh food.

But there is one thing that I find disturbing. The meat that we have form the qurbani always has a strange smell. What we call heek in Urdu. Very seriously off putting. I have no idea why but it has a different taste as well. Hmmmm. Now I will try to move on to more appropriate and palatable topics.

Oh and last but not least - the conversations from hell. Due to eid people who vaguely know come over to meet. Then all the women start talking about clothes, colours, food, recipes and at times shoes. And all the men sit about uncomfortably. Without any idea what to talk about they keep quiet. That is what I did for at least two hours today. Horrible horrible thing to do. There was a time when I had a strong desire to start swinging from the fan. Then I shut myself up and killed the budding child inside me. Then the food tray came and we all paid a lot of attention to it. To cater for the lack of alternate amusements.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Eid.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

Animal Qurbani










I just slit a goat's throat with a knife. Dagger rather.




This is too violent for me. I still can not think about it. There was a pulse and I cut it. Then there was none. It slowly ebbed out of my fingers. I am in shocks. I am not eating meat for the next few days.

09 Zilhaj 1424

Today I have good news and I have bad news. Bad news first.

Tomorrow I might have to cut the throat of the animals in my house. I am pertified and I am dreading it.

And now the good news.

One thing that I had time to do today. Watch a few works of Rembrandt. One of my favourite painters. And all I can say is - wah. My favourite is 'Philospher in meditation'. If you try to feel it you can hear and smell that picture. It is as if you are transcended into that place. It is a must see.

A regular reminder that my Urdu blog is here. Where I have started to try to teach Urdu as well.

Baqr Eid 'Feevah'

Every year muslims (about two million) from all over the world go to Makkah to perform the great pilgrimage of the 'Hajj'. On the 10th day of the 11th month(Zilhaj) the Hajj in complete. To mark the completion of the Hajj a celebration is held all over the muslim world called Eid ul Azha (also called Baqr Eid). On this day every man who earns makes a sacrifice.

Here in Karachi it is usually a Cow or a Goat. (No No. It gets much much more interesting later on, I promise, Unlike the last time). So basically people buy a cow or a goat usually during the week preceding the Eid. So in a city of 11 million people the number of animals waiting for the sweet relief of a cold blade becomes very very large. So people buy animals and then they tie them in front of their houses. Why? Because generally they would prefer to have the Drawing Rooms to themselves rather than creatures who would have no use of yesterday's newspaper.

In front of every house you will see cows and goats. An occasional sheep. A very very uncommon camel once in a while. All ready to be slaughtered on the day of Eid. For such a large number of animals there have to be markets right? well, there is one huge market outside the city. It is huge. And it is full of animals and people. You have to look and haggle a lot. So after hours and hours you will have the animal of your choice at your prices. This is how we get things done.

The scene of a group of children holding ropes, that bind the animals heads, and going to greener pastures is very common. Everywhere you go. You will see animals roped to differnt things. Electricity Poles, Gates, Posts and Trees. And on top of that excited children play with the animals as if they were the greatest present ever. Ahhhhhh. And I used to be just like them.

Every street will give you a whole crop of animals to look at and talk about. Differnt kinds and different breeds of cows and goats. Everyone is talking about them. They are like the new cell phone. Otherwise everyone shows off their cell phones. Now they show off their cows. It is much easier I tell you. Cows are much bigger and can be shown off easily.

So with the animals here we wait for eid.