so, we’re back and i hate Pakistan with a vengeance, much more now than i did before i left, which was considerable. everything that’s wrong with Pakistan seems to have magnified over the past month. it’s hot, it stinks, there are power failures, it’s infested with oglers… i could go on. Pakistan and i have a weird relationship, like an estranged loved one…we detest each other in each other’s presence and i could go on for days about all the things about Pakistan that piss me off but absence makes the heart fonder and i miss it when i’m away…the familiar places, the friends, my room, my computer, my people. i hate it all but it’s mine and if you dare say something derogatory you’d get a bloody lip and a black eye.i belong to the ‘ i can say what i want but you better watch your mouth’ school of hypocrisy.
i’ve slept for the past 16 hours simply because i didn’t want to wake up and face the fact that i i’m home. stinky, hot, uncomfortable, rundown, aggravating, exasperating home.
on the flight home i was seated between this cute foreign guy and this not so cute local guy. the desi had really bad breath so i politely offered him a tic tac, he refused…how deluded can you be? i politely insisted until he took one.
the foreigner and i shared some laughs, he was adorable.
the local guy tried to engage me in some lame conversation about my ipod music, which proved he was a creepy, nosy busy body with bad hygeine. so he goes ‘aap kitni different tarhan ka music sunti hain??” and i was like ‘huh??” and he goes ‘jimi hendrix aur pink floyd, itnay different hai donon’ and i was like ‘i like classic music, and they’re both psychedelic rock when you think about it, besides is there some law that says people can’t listen to different kinds of music??’ that shut him up! needless to say if it had been the foreigner instead of the desi who’d been the peeping tom i would’ve been flattered that he noticed & would’ve been much nicer and more loquacious with him.
i manged to try to put on his (foreigner’s) belt instead of mine when i sat down, at which point he said ‘ummm…excuse me, that’s mine’ i made a lame joke, if you must know i said ‘ i don’t see your name on it!’ he was sweet enough to guffaw a little and that served as a nice ice breaker. we spent the rest of the time cracking jokes and being mean to the desi everytime he tried to cut in. does that make me a bad person? it probably does…if so, can’t be helped!