Veena Malik and the Case of Conqueror Worm

Veena Malik and her perpetual companion!

I have immense respect for Veena Malik. I know that she has got nothing to do with politics so writing about her in this blog is utterly pointless but I will write about her anyway.

Veena Malik has a special place in my heart. Now a lot of you would say that I nurse this soft spot for Veena after getting a good long look at her “cover” and “spreads” in the FHM, but I would have to disagree with y’all. I unfortunately am not a fan of Veena’s psychical geography, nor do I claim to be smitten by her sultry desi looks. It’s the thing that lives inside her which makes me give her a “standing” ovation every time her name becomes a part of the breaking news or the ticker running below.

It would be perfectly apt to say that Veena is the true successor of our backyard drama queen Meera. Even their screen names sound familiar. But Veena Malik unlike Meera is fully aware of the fact that attitude sprinkled with a little bit of grasp over English is more important than dumping husbands and shit talking about miss worlds when you have the aim to get on “top” along with embarrassing an entire nation (hey, it’s not an easy task okay!).

But let’s not worry about boring things; let’s talk about Miss Malik, the one that doesn’t play tennis. Dabbing her as a classic case of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder would simply be an understatement. Judging from her colorful love life that moved from Bibirk Shah (loser) to Muhammad Asif (loser^{10 x 200}) and then Ashmit Patel (the ultimate loser who loves making colorful MMS for his jiggers), I think Veena is simply the victim of a severe medical condition. This medical condition is the presence of parasite that resides in a very unmentionable bodily cavity of a human being and is responsible for their erratic behaviors. Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, Meera, Rakhi Sawant, Altaf Hussain etc are the classic examples of how this monstrous parasite wiggles and squirms in that unholy orifice of these so called celebrities and make them do things that baffles us decent folk while entertaining us at the very same time. Medical science has failed to understand the nomenclature of this diabolical parasite and has left it for the populace to choose an appropriate name for it. Thus this parasite is regarded by a multitude of names and almost every one of them refers to its humble residence. This parasite pretty much reside in each and every one of us in a dormant form and I bet every reader must have felt this devious creature wriggle once or twice or may be more in their life time. I myself have experienced its excruciating squirming inside me in my college days and can totally understand how it feels to live with this thing perpetually writhing, twisting and dancing inside that dark and claustrophobic tunnel. Imagine what poor Veena goes through every single day.

Nowadays when I see Veena on TV, I feel like I am looking at someone else. She doesn’t seem like the girl who used to crack jokes about Chaudry Shujaat with her cat like eyes and impish grin. Don’t get me wrong, I was a fan of Veena before that GEO TV show, even though I had never had the pleasure of watching any of her movies. She made headlines in the early days of internet boom in Pakistan when some of her black and white photos became part of massively forwarded emails. Being a bit of Photoshop geek myself, I knew that the images weren’t doctored contrary to her claims and from that point on; I made a habit of reading every news feed regarding Veena Malik since I knew that this girl would go really far. I never had the audacity to bear any of her movies except her TV show which happened to be written by one of my favourite Pakistani satire writer Dr. Muhammad Younis Butt. I was happy to see that the girl had finally found her true calling and gotten over that disease, until Big Boss happened.

To be really honest, I hate reality TV since I find the entire term to be one sick oxymoron. If you believe that there are such things as peaceful target killing, honest Zardari or reality TV, then you better go and see a doctor since that parasite is not just doing bungee ballet inside you, but also has managed to poke its head out of that murky shaft. Boy, talk about a nasty sight. So reality TV is nothing but a poorly scripted show for wannabes and celebrities at the verge of their careers end. The worst thing that could happen to reality TV? Waqar Zaka and Big Boss. Waqar Zaka if you are reading this, may you rot in hell with Sahir Lodhi you pathetic midget. Anyway, let’s get back to Big Boss.

I have seen a shit load of reality TV shows that are equivalent of watching a rabid dog taking a big steamy pile of dump right in the middle of your living room while licking his puss dripping privates at the same time. Now I don’t want to go into detail about the reality TV shows whose makers and producers should be executed Taliban style, I must say that Big Boss definitely is one of those shows which has earned a really high pedestal in my minds gallery of torture and hatred.

Made primarily to appease a nation of billion tasteless individuals, Big Boss (a bastard child of the popular and equally shitty show Big Brother), is a show with the aim of bringing out and projecting the worst of human nature before an audience of a billion and have fun while at it. As expected, the earlier seasons of the show were a mind blasting success where a glut of ex or soon to be exed celebrities got their fifteen minutes of fame again. The only thing admirable about Big Boss is that it doesn’t hide its sleaziness; but puts it on a silver platter and serves it right in front of the audience.

Anyway, Veena Malik whose career had taken a decent path after dumping Pakistan’s capsized film industry and migrating to TV finally had the chance to become an actual celebrity. I think this was the time when the passive parasite living in her for years went  berserk. Poor Veena had no choice but to capitulate so she did whatever that thing told her to. Doing a little bit of psycho analysis of this parasite, one can most certainly come to the conclusion that this thing is so badly starved for attention that it will do anything just to see the light of the day or spotlight to be more precise. Veena I think tried her best to feed this abomination and did everything expected on and off the camera in the house of Big Boss. Ashmit Patel, one of the biggest douche bag that has ever lived actually had the best time in the house.  First, he had a chance to be on screen after a very long time and second, he could grope and fondle another failed actress also in front of the camera. I can still imagine that twat whispering in Veena’s ear that I have a flop actress for a sister who started out her career with Hrithik, so if you travel south of the equator, I might ask her to let you actually touch the t-shirt Hrithik wore during the song Ek Pal Ka Jeena. We all know what happened next. And on numerous occasions, Veena showed implicit intentions of becoming Salman Khan’s you know what. I think she would have put the latest and another notorious contestant Sunny Leone, a bona fide porn star to shame had Salman Khan invited Veena for an in camera session. But can she be blamed? I don’t think so. Despite how much media wishes to portray the likes of Veena Malik as sexually depraved and frustrated individuals, it is nothing but a shameful and unabashed gimmick to stay the center of people’s attention a few seconds longer. Why else would you think India’s population cross the mark of a billion. Dr Murli AKA Munna Bhai AKA Sanjay Dutt diagnose this condition as the nations unnatural affinity with Gana and Bajana.

So, by enticing a huge audience with her tantrums and lewd attitude (wow, it rhymes) Veena finally gave the painful resident inside her a few moments of placidity that could only have been provided in India. Pakistan on the other hand is a country that is still not bold enough to cater the needs of patients afflicted with this horrible parasite. Poor Veena became one of the juiciest piece of gossip meat among the anchor persons of various news channels who tossed her around a number of people to justify her actions. The infamous debate between Molana Meri Behen and Veena was something that I watched with a bucket of popcorn in my lap. Aahhh…. sheer bliss.

Our local news media unlike their supremely melodramatic Indian counterparts conducted this affair very decently. They sold cheap gossip and sleazy news by deep frying these notions in the crumbs of national identity and patriotism. A very dear friend of mine when asked by an overly powdered Male anchor guy in the middle of a crowded mall about what he thought of Veena Malik gave the reply for which I would have given him a Nishan-e-Imtiaz if I had been the President of Pakistan. My friend simply replied: I think she’s got great b**bs. The anchor guy was taken aback and of course these comments went on air. My friend was scolded by a gathering crowed of do gooders who severely reprimanded him for uttering the B word. All my friend could say in his defense was: What else is there to Veena Malik beside it?  I think he made his point.

After giving Muhammad Asif some thuggin love, Veena became part of the news once more when that jerk was being sentenced for a year of anal rape by skinheads in the British slammer. She confessed her undying love for Asif but thought that he got what he deserved for disgracing the nation. I mean seriously, this kind of sublime dichotomy can only be seen either in our National Assembly or at Nine Zero. Who would believe that after bad mouthing that nasty greasy bugger only a few days back on national television about borrowed money and vehemently denying any involvement with him, she came out of the closet with her feelings about Asif when he was about to become a bum boy at the prison (hmmm…dirty connections anyone?). I think from this point on Veena started to get some of her memory back from those spells of amnesia caused under the fit of that endlessly twisting parasite. This theory can be supported by her latest yet most scandalous stint ever where she tried to hide an elephant under a hand kerchief, no pun intended.

All hell broke loose when Veena appeared butt naked on the cover of FHM sporting a tattoo that insolently said ISI on her left arm. Now here is the deal. At first, Veena denied stripping down before the camera and blamed the magazine for tempering with the shots. Her photographer Vishal Saxena explained that every tantrum thrown from Veena’s side was (poorly) scripted way before the photo shoot and Veena wanted something so controversial that could catapult her into super-stardom overnight. According to Vishal, Veena was willing to do ANYTHING before the camera (what about behind the camera?) to get any sort of publicity. Veena got what she wanted and the whole media was ablaze with Veena’s sizzling photos. At the beginning, a fuming Veena raged on that she was cheated by the magazine never the less admitting that it was a bold photo shoot but she didn’t go bare at all. Now if my theory is correct, Veena supposedly came out of her amnesic stupor after awhile and admitted that she was only topless which is way different than being nude and no big deal at all since her work demands her to be topless (We all know what line of work demands women to go topless). When I heard this statement from Veena, I had an epiphany (and a request from a very dear friend) that urged me to write this blog. As a Pakistani and an ordinary media spectator, there are two things I must confess. First, Veena shouldn’t have done that. Why? Because Pakistan is not a nation of individuals. Regardless of catering to individual ideologies, we as a nation do everything collectively and relish in each other’s achievements since we do not have much to be proud of. When we are shamed at cricket, we cheer for woman’s cricket team and see Esam Ul Haq as a national hero despite of being totally unaware of tennis. We pray for Aamir Khan’s victory knowing all too well that the only thing Pakistani he has is his blood. Similarly, the acts on an individual can also bring shame and disgrace to us collectively. If Asif, Aamir and Butt’s indictment is the cause of shame for the entire nation, Veena Malik’s recklessness, her thirst for fame and her metamorphosis into a media whore is something that also saddens us profoundly. Those who believe that Veena is an adult (consenting?) individual who should be free to live her life any way she wants and that she should be left alone can gladly go out there too and play hide and go f**k themselves. Media is one of the most powerful elements of the modern world and with great power, comes great responsibility (Thanks Uncle Ben); this is something that every person that is associated with media should realize. If shedding your clothes off and insulting the institutions of your own country before the entire world is an act of individuality from a media representative, than its time to get a new passport and dye your hair blonde because you are not a Pakistani but a confused and hypocrite wannabe.
Oh, and the second thing; man that girl really worked her ass off in the gym. Jumping on the notorious Size-Zero band wagon, every part of Veena’s body (covered or uncovered) cry out Bollywood. Spending a bit of time with some real Bollywood hotshots, Veena knew that she  had to get her body a Bollywood make over if she wanted to stay afloat, a mistake Meera committed believing that love handles are considered sexy in main stream Bollywood. Veena exhibited a traditional Pakistani Woman’s physique in Big Boss and judging from her emerging cheek bones and sizzling photo shoots, I had a feeling that Veena will go to any length to showcase her newly buffed bod. And why not? If Sunny Leone after baring everything can bag a role in Mahesh Bhatt’s upcoming flick, so can Veena. Of course Veena believes that as long as people don’t get to see her assets (Like Sunny Leone), she aint naked but a modest Pakistani woman. I don’t know if she is really that naive or is the marionette simply mimicking the actions of the puppeteer (the parasite). Either way Veena Malik shows classical traits of a Pakistani Politician. Let’s see. Contradictory statements? Check, reckless and amoral behavior? Check, Corrupt? Check, a never ending hunger for attention and publicity? Check, check and double check. All she now lacks is a dynastic suffix like Bhutto, Makhddoom, Pir, Chaudry, Gilani, Shareef etc etc after her name and she is all set to take the Pakistani Politics by storm, one piece of clothing at a time.

And the parasite that lives inside her making her do all these things? Well, we call it a Keera and I think all of you know where it lives. As much as I hate it, I cannot help myself find the allusion of Veena’s condition in this epic closing stanza of Poe which says:

Out—out are the lights—out all!
And over each quivering form
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, “Man,”
And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

Update:

While this blog was being penned down, the GEO News app on my iPad notified me about the breaking news at around 12:30 pm. Veena Malik gone missing! I stopped typing at once and dug in. Apparently, Ms. Malik is nowhere to be seen since Friday. She disappeared from the set of a movie and her phone seems to be unreachable. A complaint has not yet been filed by Bandra Police because I think that they are thinking exactly what I thought when I came across this news. Had she been in Pakistan, I bet everyone a million bucks that TTP, Jhangivi or Jaish guys would have taken the credit with 1000 watt grins on their faces. I am sure her execution video would’ve toppled YouTube shit…..excuse me, hits like Justin Bieber’s Baby or Kolveri D singlehandedly. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. A Pakistani Girl missing in India? This means war. Or she might comeback with one of her many enchanting tales. Like the one where she claimed wearing a burqa in her school days. Now that was highly amusing.
Now both President Zardari and Veena Malik are out of their stations and the nation is holding its breath about how this drama will unfold. To be honest, every single person that I know wish these two to be gone and gone for good. I am not so sure about Zardari, but Veena has got a lot of cats that she will keep unleashing out of her bag. Let’s see who returns first.

Update 2:

This just keeps getting better and better. According to Times of India, Veena Malik is back in town. Here is how it goes:

According to sources, she arrived back for visa renewal to Lahore via Wagha border, where her friend Ashmit Patel had come to drop her. She had mysteriously disappeared from Mumbai where she was shooting for a film.

Sources said that she walked into Pakistan from the Wagah border on Friday, where some of her friends picked her up and left for an unknown destination, The Nation reported.

Her arrival in Pakistan went unnoticed because she was wearing a burqa and her passport carried her real name Zahida.

Getting back into her own country clad in a Burqa, trying not to get attention (for once) and setting off towards an unknown destination, ring any bells sweet readers? One thing is for sure. She has beaten President Zardari in getting back home. But she may be at disadvantage here. Unlike our honorable President, she does not have a husband or a child to use as collateral if things don’t turn out according to the plan so Veena Malik I believe is way tougher than our feeble president. You go girl. Pity she has kept her location discreet otherwise we would have had the chance to see that YouTube video I fantasized about earlier. What next for Veena? An application of residence ship in India and a few very very forgettable roles in a couple of B class movies. Will she ever come to Pakistan? The question is as elusive as Miss Malik herself is right now.

Update 3:

WTF? According to the Times of India once again,

Veena Malik has been found. The actress is allegedly staying at a service apartment in Juhu for the last two days. Her manager Prateik Mehta told TOI, “ I am on my way to meet Veena who is at Oakwood Park. I have only spoken to her briefly.”

So many news flashes in just a short span of time…..Times of India better dedicate a section of their publications entirely for Veena Malik if they wish to keep up with the girl. Fine Veena, you won.You successfully made me waste above 3000 words over you and by the look of things, these shenanigans barely seem to be the tip of the ice berg. Lets see when this engine runs out of steam. Till then, I am outta here.

Altaf Bhai VS The Joker

Honestly, non of them is funny

 

I have been swarmed with requests from my modest fan base to write something about the current entertainment scene of Paki politics and I find myself at a loss of words for the first time. I desperately wanted to write about Altaf Bhai’s sincere warning to the nation about stockpiling rations for a month and was almost on the verge of regurgitating my dirty mind out on the post but along came the Aamir Liaqut’s legendary video about “sensitive situation” and his affinity with Ghalib the movie and some anonymous actor who was apparently remembered for his rape scenes and buttered mouth. But despite of the voices that clamored inside my head to blog the whole thing, I refrained myself from touching the keyboard as long as the words Follyticks were emblazoned on the monitor since I was pre-occupied in matters or personal nature. I was almost reeling from the effects of the reverberations of “Ghalib film dekhi hai aap nay?” when Zulfiqar Mirza acted like a bull in a china store and totally smashed some of my favorite entertainers such as Altaf Bhai and Rehman Malik. The apple and banana analogy almost made me snort milk out of my nose even though I wasn’t drinking any. On top of that, Rehman Malik with his daliy show almost made Jon Stewart look like Carlos Mencia with his plagiarized toilet jokes. I was content man, so much entertainment in just a short span of time almost made me forget about Hollywood’s summer fiesta where big budget flicks line up to entertain the living daylights out of us.

And then Altaf Bhai did it again. In a stunning live performance that put the likes of High School Musical and Glee live in concerts to shame, Altaf Bhai single handedly proved that he can bray more than anyone once the spot lights are directed towards him, which he make sure that ARE directed towards him for over a good 3 hours. His dogged dedication can simply be determined from the fact that he recently recovered or still recovering from a mysterious illness that allegedly hospitalized him for more than a week yet he didn’t stumble even for a second out of weakness during the entire course of his press conference.

I may be stepping over the tails of a whole lot of fanboys but I can’t seem to ignore the odd albeit vague similarities between Heath Ledgers incarnation of the Joker and Altaf Bhai at this point. Wait, lets add Jack Nicholson’s Joker in the mix too.

Pretty much like Nicholson’s version of the clown prince of crime who hijacks the national media just for kicks and to make every one laugh to death literally, Altaf Bhai’s endeavor to put smiles over the constipated visage of a nation stiff with fear and hunger was in my opinion a every noble attempt. I mean look at what our TV channels promote all the time. So what if Altaf Bhai followed the footsteps of a deranged psychopath just to make all of us happy for over three hours? Check out this clip and see what I mean.

Just like his 1989 counterpart, Ledger’s Joker also shows his uncanny affinity towards getting his more than fifteen minutes of fame by constantly cooking up a storm through the media.

But one thing is for sure. Altaf Bhai definitely have the makings of an A class entertainer in him which often makes me wonder whether he graduated from Karachi University or National Academy of Performing Arts. He talks as if he is reciting a Shakespearean soliloquy, sings like a nightingale and dances even better than Nighat Chaudry.

And in his latest unplugged performance he totally showed us that why so serious if your city is being razed and plundered.

But here is where it stops getting funny. Seeing Bob Kane’s creation on the silver screen utter lines about chaos and destruction brings us on the edge of the seat as we know that there is always a Batman or a superhero to save the day and release the city from the clutches of a sadistic psychopath. But as I watched his press conference, I realized that despite his fabulous performance, he actually can unleash absolute chaos on the streets of the city of lights and no Dark Knight would come to the rescue though several will claim to be the caped crusader of our time.

And the even funnier part is those who actually follow this clown. An entertainer is as good as his fans and considering Altaf Bhai’s status that’s been elevated to almost the equivalent of a prophet, I can’t stop laughing at those who actually consider him a messiah. His deification could have been justified had this been India where even the likes of Himesh Reshamiya get popular if they appeal to the masses. But here in Karachi, a sea of souls by all regards but a mere city none the less of multiple ethnicities, seeing Altaf Bhai practically being worshipped is a sight I still find strange. And that’s where all Altaf Bhai’s fan base comes from, a smattering of followers from a handful of areas in Karachi. It’s astonishing to see how an entire country kneels before a handful of people and their head honcho who make all his moves from a cold and wet foreign land.

This is where Altaf Bhai and Joker part their ways. Whilst Joker has the audacity and courage to burn an entire city down and still retains his dark and morbid humor, Altaf Bhai coy behind a face that is even more hideous than the scars Joker wears like a badge of honor on his face, and that is the face of democracy.

Good old Tacitus describes it very aptly by saying Auferre, trucidare, rapere, falsis nominibus imperium; atque, ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant (They plunder, they slaughter, and they steal: this they falsely name Empire, and where they make a wasteland, they call it peace) Democracy is that wasteland perched on the fringes of greed, lust and violence.

Being a muhajir myself, i would rather stick a blade in my mouth and carve myself a monstrous grin like joker instead of chanting and cheering for that fat buffoon if given a choice. And I bet all those who are reading these a 1000 bucks that 90% of the crowd that makes the audience for Altaf Bhai’s mindless antics is forced to endure him croaking his guts out. The rest of the 10 percent? Well, they prepare borees and make sure that the likes of Nusrat Javed and Wali Khan Babar gets fired both metaphorically and literally (respectively). Here is where I agree with Joker. “This city deserves a better class of criminals”.

I don’t know whether it’s his modesty that he doesn’t take credit for the artwork that gets created every day on the streets of Karachi or the fear of being dethroned from his current star status, but Altaf Bhai is doing one hell of a job that the people of Karachi get at least some relief in the form of his sermons since KESC wouldn’t dare to pull the plug as long as Altaf Bhai is singing and dancing on screen. As for the entertainment value, its free.

The Daily Altaf Bhai Updates

Another one bites the dust

 

Altaf Bhai Mourns

Today’s Jang is filled with stories about Altaf Bhai. I honestly thinks that he issues more official statements and is mentioned twice as much as our esteemed President.

Game of Pir’s Throne

Poor Pir

Looks like the old man finally over DID himself this time. Has the universe turned upside down or what? Instead of his most recent (literally recent compared to Pir Sahab’s age) blushing bride, Pir Sahab is sporting swelled up feet. May be Pir Sahab accidently swallowed down a couple of Estrofem instead of them Viagra’s when he was fumbling in the dark.

Jokes apart (seriously? I was just getting warmed up), Pir Pagara has finally kneeled before the perils of old age and has taken ill, despite of his ceaseless denial that he is still as fit as a horse (Stud??). Being an octogenarian, Pir Sahab can definitely give the most vital of all young men a run for their money. Call it good genetics, holistic medication, the seat of a miniature pope, prosthetic implants (if you can’t see em, then use your imagination, children might be reading this blog), Pir Sahab Pagara certainly knows how to make the best out of everything he has.

For instance, when he is not busy making tiny Pir Pagaras and Pagaris, he is seen predicting things, like outcome of a cricket match, weather patterns and prize bond numbers. How can he do that? Well, these are perks of being a SPIRITUAL leader along with fresh virgin oracles……wives, I meant wives, sorry, kinda remembered Ephors from 300. So here are the stats: young wives, clairvoyance, a small yet devoted following of peasants and illiterates, KINGRY House, chairman ship of a political party. Why did I waste my time studying politics when I could easily have become a Pir for being a Syed. All I needed was a shaggy beard and a couple of parlor tricks and I could have paved a lucrative career for me and my posterity.

Ok forget it and let’s just fast forward to the fun part. In a turn of melodramatic events, Pir Sahab’s latest blossoming broad has taken over the affairs of the Kingry House. Sounds kinda medieval doesn’t it? As per the rumors (read: news), Shabnam Bibi wants her toddler to be the heir of Pir Sahab’s throne. God knows if Shabnam Bibi is simply following the latest fashion of crowning adolescents under the shadow of a co-regent or maybe she simply wants pay payback. If I was her, I would definitely have taken a swing for the home run rather than wait and rot to cover a base. If you don’t know how she may feel, get betrothed to man twice your dad’s age and have him do that tantric shit on your blossoming delicate body after getting you all chained up in a fortress (don’t get any ideas, I was just ruminating and was never engaged to an 80 year old man and bore his kids). Hell really hath no fury like a woman scorned eh…..

As for Pir Sahab who has already declared Raja Sain (yes, that’s his name) as his heir is mumbling about letting his party decide who will be coroneted as the new Pir after him since he LOVES his PARTY more than his family. Ahhh, nothing so romantic than the love of an 84 year old man to his young wife. There is something vaguely familiar about this whole thing. Those of you who are into fantasy literature or history should instantly gleam the familiar pattern of the unfolding events. Old King, Young (ambitious/vindictive) Queen, the age old squabble over the throne and an old fashioned conflict between the Heir Apparent and the (usually) adolescent spawn of the King from his young Queen. Volumes can be and have been filled over this whole scenario. But the here’s the paradox;

The leader of a political party founded on the classical principles of Democracy is solving a domestic dispute that has something to do with choosing a proper heir for his throne as the next Pir and ostensibly his party is to decide who should be CROWNED to lead the party and the affairs of the quasi religious faction.

There are so many things wrong with the sentence above at so many levels, yet that is the beauty of our country’s political vista. How the events at Kingry House unravels is yet to be seen but I already have a bag of pop corn ready for the next exciting episode of the “Game of Pir’s Throne”

Gillani, The Last Action Hero

There are some people who are born to enjoy the best of everything. PM Gillani is one of them. For starters, he is a Gillani, the decedents of  Abdul Qadir Gillani meaning he has been absolved from all his sins till the day he dies (short version: Collect 200 without even passing GO…….didnt get it? Good!). He has a reputation for being a ladies’ man. Naheed Akhtar, Sheeren Rehman (Just google Sheeren Rehman, the first hit says it all J) and Angelina Jolie will surely testify to that. His children drives armor plated cars. And last but not least, he has got the best job in Pakistan.

PM Gillani most certainly has worked really hard to land this job. Like a traditional Pakistani politician, he has been alleged with accusations of embezzlement and has served a sentence behind bars. And since under the creed of the new regime, the eligibility of a public servant (WTF?) is directly proportional to the number of his incarnated years multiply by the amount he has shoved down his gullet from the national exchequer. Gillani apparently seems to fit this criteria perfectly (Correction: Allegedly) though he still comes in second in comparison to our esteemed President.

But that was half the punch line. Forbes included Gillani as the 38^th most powerful man in the world. I had no idea that Forbes was a bodybuilding magazine nor did I ever know that Gillani competed in Iron Man Contests. Strange isn’t it?  May be that’s why Angelina found an aspiring action star in Gillani who could replace the likes of Arnold and Stallone. Personally, I think that PM could pull it off, the tough guy look I meant. If only he could work out on that flat monotonous voice of his, I wouldn’t mind the 38^th most powerful man on the planet chant Hasta La Vista BB (pun intended).

Drone Away Mr. PM

And know what, the guy has already taken the notion of seeing his name immortalized on the Hollywood Walk of Fame to his head. Get a load of his recent speeches where he consistently drones about (stop cocking those eyebrows, it’s a verb) dire consequences to the US of A if they tried to take Pakistan’s lunch money again. To add a dash of comedy into this testosterone dripping speech, he also promises to make Imran Khan the beneficiary if he proves the existence of his offshore accounts. Imran Khan would be a twice as rich now had that not been a full dressed rehearsal by Gillani.  Now that’s talent.

So what have we gleaned so far? Pre-absolved life package for being a Syed, Check. Shereen, Naheed and Angie, Check. Best job in Pakistan, Check. An aspiring action star, Check. Some people are born to have the best of everything.

Sharif Brothers should have a theme music……..

The Bored Ultimatum

 

Sharif brothers love playing tough guys. They remind me of late Sultan Rahi (RIP). Sultan Rahi kicked ass all his life on the silver screen, he was our Pakistani version of Chuck Norris or Rajnikanth. The guy could take a burst of semi automatic on his chest and shoot the villain perched on the mountain top with only one bullet left in his chamber……simultaneously. Too bad it didn’t work out in real life.

Sharif Brothers have taken a page out of Late Sultan Rahi’s book and vow never to repeat his mistake, which is; what happens on press and screen should stay there. Their ultimatum game kinda brings a twist into the already twisted scenario of Paki Politics where the poor audiences hope that their knights in the shining armor would deliver them from evil once the countdown hits zero.

This is the part where Sharif Brothers deserve praise. They never let the countdown touch zero. Ultimatums lasting for three days usually end up in the PM capitulating to the terms set forth by the PML-N and that’s it. People at Raiwind congratulate each other over this profound people’s victory and the credits start rolling. These kinds of plot twists keep our political industry on par with their rivals Hollywood and Bollywood.

Sharif Brothers are true celebrities in this regard. They always make a ground breaking appearance after a crisis and try to pull this whole Clint Eastwood’s this town aint big enough charade and then disappear waiting for another crisis to take place. What do they do in the mean time?? Like a traditional celebrity, they simply go under the knife or just party. |I am surprised that after hair and god knows what other implants they still haven’t decided to get a set of silicon abs and hopped on the six pack band wagon like Obama, Aamir and Shahrukh Khan.

Praises also go to the villain of their shows and the audience that is faithful to these shows. The villain (spells with a lot of Ps) throw in the towel after a Hollywood fashion verbal fisticuff and surrenders before these fierce weekend warriors, promising to restore order to the realm resulting in the jubilant whistles and hoots of the faithful audience who leave the theater hoping that the drama’s ending would change the world outside. Dumb and fickle audience. When they realize that it was just camera tricks and screen sorcery, they return back to the theater to enjoy a whole new sequel/episode of the show with their favorite stars in it.

As for the stars……….

Well, like the rest of the celebrity lot, they go home too to memorize their next script with a big fat pay check in their pocket. Damn, that wasn’t suppose to end on a serious note.

 

Altaf Hussain should be a blogger!

Defining Altaf Hussain is a tricky thing. He’s been called many things, from Quaid-e-Tehreek (who’s tehreek? Definitely not ours) to Bhai (???) to a lot of things that I’d rather not speak out loud here. But in my honest opinion, I think he is a Polymath. Wikipedia defines Polymaths as:

A polymath (Greek: πολυμαθής, polymathēs, “having learned much”) is a person whose expertise spans a significant number of different subject areas. In less formal terms, a polymath (or polymathic person) may simply be someone who is very knowledgeable. Most ancient scientists were polymaths by today’s standards.

And Altaf Bhai fits this description perfectly. I mean look at the guy. He can sing, he’s into pantomime, he can mimic the sound of a mountain goat being slaughtered with a blunt knife such perfectly that I often applaud at the end of his speeches, now that’s talent. His oratory skills are simply unmatched; especially when he starts cawing in Punjabi, people just shut up and listen. Now throw in back flips (verbal gymnastics), mudslinging (the most popular political sports, really works out all your muscles) and a truck load of slapstick comedy (unintentional) into this pot and you got yourself a polymath, Aristotle must be so proud.

Blogging is Altaf Bhai’s recently learned skills which he puts to extensive use almost every day. Instead of opting to use traditional blogging tools like twitter, facebook, blogger, wordpress etc, Altaf Bhai has chosen the finest micro blogging platform that money (or a couple of bullets) can buy. Daily Jang, Geo News and Ary One World.

I sometimes imagine Altaf Bhai sitting before a colossal TV screens, kinda like Ozymandias from The Watchmen, with live feed of all the news channels in Pakistan (a few international ones too for obvious reasons) and control panel in his lap that instantly dispatches his automated message to Daily Jang, Geo and Ary whenever a disaster strikes the land of the pure (that means almost every day). His automated messages range from half hearted condolences to victims of the disaster to spicy one liners where he somehow manages to squeeze Jageerdaar and Wadera every time. It’s like listening to a loop of never ending radio distress signal. But kudos to good ol Altaf Bhai without whom, the news tickers would have bored us to death.

Whether it’s a shameful and undisguised attempt to always stay in the news or boredom, these instant micro blogs from Altaf Bhai always brings a smile on my face. Almost every day an MQM worker falls prey to an audacious drive by and that gives Altaf Bhai a perfect reason to prey, sorry I meant pray for the peace of victims soul. And I actually quit all my appointments and reschedule my entire day when Altaf Bhai decides to pray for the slain before camera. Now that’s what I call first class entertainment.

My average day usually starts with a cup of coffee and a multimedia version of Daily Jang and Dawn. Just like the news paper never forgets to print a small rectangle of Farman-e-Ilahee on the front page ever since the paper started its first run, a tweet from Altaf Bhai always pops up on the front page nowadays. May it be condolences, a warning to Jageerdaars and Waderas or most of the times a suggestion to optimize the Governments performance, Altaf Bhai have something to say about everything. I don’t get to find these tweets in Dawn very often. Dawn is way to angrezi for an average Pakistani (yours truly). Austere, to the point, unbiased and home to some of the finest editorials you come across in a news paper, Dawn seldom publishes Altaf Bhai’s thought provoking tweets. Jang on the other hand is a true Pakistani news paper. Overtly commercial and unnecessarily subversive, Jang is a cross between a classical tabloid and yellow journalism all wrapped up in a green and white gift paper and that’s what makes Jang the favorite newspaper of countless Pakistanis including me. No wonder they love printing anything that comes from Altaf Bhai, after all, a news paper should have some punch lines beside the news of blood and gore. Though there are a lot of other bloggers out there in Pakistan’s political arena who love humoring me every other day with their over the top one liners (Rehman Malik: Stars Wars for instance), but non can match Altaf Bhai’s ultimate prowess over micro blogging. His dedication and his epic sense of humor are the reasons tickers of GEO and ARY One World always stays colorful and Jang manages to make huge sales.

In Pakistan, Politics is no longer a serious business. Politics now is an entirely new branch of entertainment where taking things seriously means either you’re Imran Khan or an old buzz kill who never lets anyone have all the fun. Follyticks is all about how our political industry has evolved from boring round table meetings to a colorful palette of eccentric personalties like Altaf Bhai, Aslam Raeesani, Dr. Firdous Aashiq Awan, Choudry Shujaat, Rehman Malik etc etc. It is these people that have taken the shades of grey out of our overzealous politics and given us a reason that watching news with your family can be just as entertaining as watching a Jim Carrey or Govinda flick.

So I dedicate my first blog to the amazing Altaf Bhai without whom, Pakistani politics is like burger without ketchup. Altaf Bhai as my role model has earned himself a special corner in this blog daily where I will try to post his “micro blogs” as often as I come across them. Enjoy and comment…….or not.