since
shahtooshes
got band in India they’ve become harder to find here also. Apparently they’re made from the chin hairs of some rare mountain goat which is getting succinct in India and that’s why they’ve put the ban. Trust the Indians to spoil everyone’s fun. Honestly. Anyways, thinking it was my old shawl-
wallah
,Akhtar, I paused the film and told the bearer to put him in the drawing room.
When I walked in, it wasn’t Akhtar at all but a thinnish, youngish man who I’d never seen before, in a
shulloo kurta
and wispy beard and a white cap on his head. But even worst, he was wearing a puffy-type leather jacket. And most worst, he had this suitcase lying beside him. I swear I heard it ticking. My colour immediately flew out of my face. He said his name was Imtiaz and that he was from Islamabad and he’d heard from the shawl
-wallahs’
grape-wine that I was a collector of shawls. And then he reached inside his pocket, took something out, and bent towards his suitcase.
Then I lost it. I told him, I said that I didn’t have any money and I hated shawls anyway and I’d never bought a shawl in my life and didn’t he know there was an economic slum on and we were defaulters and the banks were after us and he mustn’t please for Allah’s sake open the suitcase and who’d given him my address and I was a God-fearing Muslim and I had a young son and what would become of him and please have some pity. He looked at me as if I was completely crack. But I didn’t care and by this time I think so he was more afraid of me than I was of him because suddenly he picked up his suitcase and ran.
When he was gone I called all the servants—bearer, cook, drivers, maid, sweeper, guards-shards, everyone—and shouted at them for letting people into the house that they didn’t know when the sich was so bad and why were they such stuppids and just now only I’d soiled a suicide bomber all by myself.So they also looked at me as if I was a crack but I damn care. Stuppids!
Later that evening Sunny called and said, “Guess what? I’ve just bought the most
gorge
double-coloured six-yarder
shahtoosh
from this darling little shawl-
wallah
called Imtiaz. And such a good price he gave me! Two times less than that thief Akhtar. Said he’d heard all about me from other shawl
-wallahs
. Apparently, I am known as Lahore’s greatest shawl collector. Wait till you see my new six-yarder. You
tau
will just die!”
16 October
Look at Jameela! Just look at her! She’s already a whole day late coming back. And not one word, one excuse, one sorry. Just total silence. I’ve called her mobile twenty, twenty times. Ring goes, but will she pick up? Never. I think so the minute she sees it’s my number she presses busy button. Her village is a thousand miles away at the edge of the world, otherwise I’d send someone to drag her back.
I was complaining to Mummy about her and she said, “I bet you, her mother is fat and well. I bet you she’s gone for something else.”
“Ever since she’s got married—”
“When did she get married?” asked Mummy.
“I think so, three months ago. I gave her fifty thou and gold earrings for her wedding. Since then this has been her third holiday.”
“That’s it. That’s why she’s gone. To be with her husband. You know,
na
, darling, these people can’t live without You Know What. That’s what she’s gone for. They’re not like us.
We
know there’s a time and place for everything. But they don’t. Because they are uneducated and they are villagers.”
I thought for a second that Janoo was also from a villagebut then I remembered that he was not uneducated because he was an Oxen and that’s why he knows there is a time and a place for everything. Even for You Know What.
But Mummy’s right. I’m sure Jameela’s mother is in better health than me even. She’s gone for You Know What. Just wait till the madam comes back. The minute she walks in I’m going to throw her out there and
shahtooshes
got band in India they’ve become harder to find here also. Apparently they’re made from the chin hairs of some rare mountain goat which is getting succinct in India and that’s why they’ve put the ban. Trust the Indians to spoil everyone’s fun. Honestly. Anyways, thinking it was my old shawl-
wallah
,Akhtar, I paused the film and told the bearer to put him in the drawing room.
When I walked in, it wasn’t Akhtar at all but a thinnish, youngish man who I’d never seen before, in a
shulloo kurta
and wispy beard and a white cap on his head. But even worst, he was wearing a puffy-type leather jacket. And most worst, he had this suitcase lying beside him. I swear I heard it ticking. My colour immediately flew out of my face. He said his name was Imtiaz and that he was from Islamabad and he’d heard from the shawl
-wallahs’
grape-wine that I was a collector of shawls. And then he reached inside his pocket, took something out, and bent towards his suitcase.
Then I lost it. I told him, I said that I didn’t have any money and I hated shawls anyway and I’d never bought a shawl in my life and didn’t he know there was an economic slum on and we were defaulters and the banks were after us and he mustn’t please for Allah’s sake open the suitcase and who’d given him my address and I was a God-fearing Muslim and I had a young son and what would become of him and please have some pity. He looked at me as if I was completely crack. But I didn’t care and by this time I think so he was more afraid of me than I was of him because suddenly he picked up his suitcase and ran.
When he was gone I called all the servants—bearer, cook, drivers, maid, sweeper, guards-shards, everyone—and shouted at them for letting people into the house that they didn’t know when the sich was so bad and why were they such stuppids and just now only I’d soiled a suicide bomber all by myself.So they also looked at me as if I was a crack but I damn care. Stuppids!
Later that evening Sunny called and said, “Guess what? I’ve just bought the most
gorge
double-coloured six-yarder
shahtoosh
from this darling little shawl-
wallah
called Imtiaz. And such a good price he gave me! Two times less than that thief Akhtar. Said he’d heard all about me from other shawl
-wallahs
. Apparently, I am known as Lahore’s greatest shawl collector. Wait till you see my new six-yarder. You
tau
will just die!”
16 October
Look at Jameela! Just look at her! She’s already a whole day late coming back. And not one word, one excuse, one sorry. Just total silence. I’ve called her mobile twenty, twenty times. Ring goes, but will she pick up? Never. I think so the minute she sees it’s my number she presses busy button. Her village is a thousand miles away at the edge of the world, otherwise I’d send someone to drag her back.
I was complaining to Mummy about her and she said, “I bet you, her mother is fat and well. I bet you she’s gone for something else.”
“Ever since she’s got married—”
“When did she get married?” asked Mummy.
“I think so, three months ago. I gave her fifty thou and gold earrings for her wedding. Since then this has been her third holiday.”
“That’s it. That’s why she’s gone. To be with her husband. You know,
na
, darling, these people can’t live without You Know What. That’s what she’s gone for. They’re not like us.
We
know there’s a time and place for everything. But they don’t. Because they are uneducated and they are villagers.”
I thought for a second that Janoo was also from a villagebut then I remembered that he was not uneducated because he was an Oxen and that’s why he knows there is a time and a place for everything. Even for You Know What.
But Mummy’s right. I’m sure Jameela’s mother is in better health than me even. She’s gone for You Know What. Just wait till the madam comes back. The minute she walks in I’m going to throw her out there and
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