Dear Aunty!
I have been infuriated at some of my girl class fellows over the past two months. Our lecture hall’s quite small and many a times they even occupy the benches that are specified for the fast-becoming RARE SPECIES at KE; BOYS. This makes things even more dismal if you are 10 min late into the first lecture. L Sitting on the stairs doesn’t seem good, since you don’t have any desk/support to put your head on and dream off. :P Waise tou I had my doubts over their ever-increasing waists (:D) par I suppose their ROYAL way of sitting counts more to it.
Yet another problem is that I hate to write our pathetic Community Medicine Log Book. Its mere torture to jot down all the lectures and the modules and the visits and pta nai kia kia aur! And since the girls do it in style with use of multiple colour markers and their stylish, wavy, eye-catching handwriting, things get worse for me and other boys as well.
There are other UNSPEAKABLE things too FROM ACROSS THE BORDER which I dare not mention here (:P), you know what I mean aunty ji.
So you see the gender you belong to is causing much trouble for me and my class fellow brethren. Please advise us how to tackle the case here and how make strategy to win this undeclared, unprecedented and unforeseen WORLD WAR and take down these CREATURES FROM OUTER WORLD to their knees!
Bechara Bacha
Dear Becharay Bachay!
Ja ve zalima! Kia yaad karwa dya! Your uber-sexist, dripping-with-baichargee mail actually
reminded me of my own university days. As antique a piece of boring furniture as your aunty ji sounds, she actually sat on the same, butt-numbing old benches you children are squabbling over these days. But that was many, many years ago, when ‘the gender I belong to’ used to be the rarer species and the gender you belong to…was just as smelly and untidy in its personal habits as it is now! Our batch had its share of slackers, ditchers and the occasional narcissistic weirdo hated by all, but for the most part, we were a people who had each other’s back! We were probably mega-twits compared to your 1000 miles/hour
generation, but we knew all the important things by heart like courtesy and chivalry and holding the door open for a classfellow and picking up a pencil somebody’d dropped. We never knew the awkwardness of a rejected Facebook friend request. We were far too busy forging real, solid friendships that we knew would last us a lifetime. Sigh. Those were the days I knew. Many, many years ago.
But you know, for someone who sounds like an intelligent guy, you’re one dumb kid! Puttar, you’re stressing over the wrong stuff! You’re probably one of those guys who lie all googly-eyed infront of their laptops and their TVs till the wee hours of the morning and then rush late into the first lecture, with a tea-cup and a toothbrush in hand, flopping down on the floor and mentally assigning PG-rated cuss-words to all those who took the pain to wake up early so they could arrive early so they could seat their big butts/ thickening waistlines on the benches. And chaalaak loomri kay dur k rishtaydaar, don’t you go playing the gender card with me. When it comes to the slackers, the ditchers and the occasional narcissistic weirdo hated by all, gals and guys both take the prize! Baat tou sach hai, magar baat hai ruswai ki. Next time you find yourself flopped on the floor or in possession of an ugly logbook, make sure your hands are spotless(and your own figure’s 24-36-24) before you blame anybody else!
As for the slackers, the ditchers and the occasional narcissistic weirdo hated by all, let
me recount the story of Shabbir, a real old shaitaan ki aulaad in my otherwise farishta-sift batch. He was one of those obnoxious guys who specalise in being rude and badtameez for fun. Needless to say, we all hated his guts! So one day, what me and my group of girlfriends did was invite him to have a cup of tea with us at the babay ka khokha (now Al-Kareem) during recess. Quite obviously, the poor guy was flattered beyond words and showed up exactly on time. We had some casual gup-shup, he finished up his chai and swaggered off, with a 40 inch wide smile plastered on his face. What the poor sucker didn’t know though, was that each one of us had taken the time to spit in his chai before he arrived! It probably didn’t do him a lot of harm (in all fairness, we DID pray for it to give him migraine and dysentery) but it made us feel a hell of a lot better and gave us a good, juicy anecdote to pass on to our aanay wali naslain! So mairey bholay(read meesnay) baadshah! Baichargee might very well be your fate at present, but there is a thing called ‘silent revenge’ and that I’m sure you know, is a dish best served cold. (or hot…in a tea-cup…with some spittle added for flavor!)
P.S. It might be great being a guy, but the 'other side' is not half as horrible as you've imagined it to be. Quite often, the strongest and the most lasting associations are formed in places you least expect. Think about it.
Good luck!:)
Aunty ji.
.jpg)
