Dec 31, 2008

What the ...

Picture this. 

Picture it all. Good and proper, okay?

Sometimes I think we're born on the wrong side of this century. Or maybe I'm losing my mind.

No. Not the century. I'm definitely losing my mind.

This instance was not only the first but one of the most flabbergasting passer-by moments of my life. 

Shadi shopping is tough, it can take a lotta zing outta you. After struggling for the thousandth time to tell your darzi that a kurta is a kurta is a kurta, you pretty much begin to lose it tenth time around. 

My mom is a slick driver. She thinks she's on a race track when she's on Shahrah e Faisal and when the car hits a speed breaker, it's just something to fidget about. I had always been used to Dad's not-more-than-20-km/h driving, so for the initial couple of shopping trips I don't know how many times I recited the final kalima. Especially when Mom's bp was already high enough for her to hit and run. Really.

So Mom's hungry and irritated because we've already spent two useless hours at Jabeen's, not finding a single worth-it dress, and because I'd made her hurry out of house for the trip, she didn't take lunch either. We stop at Khadda Market's One Potato Two Potato and Mom yelps at the sight of "Fish and Chips - Limited Winter Edition". 

I walk out of the car, as Mom parks in front of Ami's. The road is narrow, there's plenty of rush and I decide to bring the fish to Mom and take a can of Sprite Zero for her from Ami's. Comfortable little dinner eh? 

Life was good until ...

I was standing placing my order at OPTP when a Vitz parks behind me. The driver is a older gentleman and the passenger seat is occupied by a young boy wearing a painter's cap. He's not more than twenty I suppose. He looks slightly familiar. I squint. Then I turn back round. The OPTP window guy has told me to wait for a moment.

Standing around waiting for the fish and chips to arrive, I turn around on my right this time and there's the young boy again talking to the OPTP waiter. Where have I seen this guy, I wonder, and am almost about to turn. Maybe he's a student, I think.

He smiles. Oh. So he's definitely a student. Before I even think of asking him if he'd gone to Iqra or Bahria or if I knew him from somewhere else, Little Gul Jee grins.

"Assalam o Alaikum." He shows slightly big pan-chewn teeth. He's thin and lanky and kinda makes me want to tell him to order a bigger dose of fries.

"Walaikum assalam. Do I- "

"Can I have your number?"

Same grin. I am shocked. No. Too precise an emotion. I wasn't even articulate let alone. Otherwise I would have given him a nice dose of masala to go with those fries. Shell-shocked? No. I didn't register shock of any kind. Flabbergasted? No. I didn't feel anything. Windfallen? No. I knew exactly what I'd run into. A stupid moron who thinks confused signals are a battle cry. Outraged? No. I was too miffed at my own loss of composure.

I turn around, my face burning, I sputter an indignant, "NO!" and feel like banging my head against the glass OPTP window. If the guy was an idiot, or a schizophrenic or a moron, or simply blind to see the dopatta on the head and the back-the-hell-up look frozen on my face, something like this had NEVER ever happened in my entire life. I have never been approached by random strangers like this and asked the number for. And believe me, I was completely haggard, looking like, yes, the hag after shopping for six hours straight. So the guy either had to be on a dare, a patient of hysterical blindness, temporary dementia or some sort of other psychological illness which my limited knowledge has not been privy to so far. Because I see no reason why a young, Himesh-listening guy would approach a random 25 year old woman with a dopatta on her head to ask for her freaking number.

I've stepped into a new world, I have.

And thus I need to ask you all. Have you men grown extra pair of ... pituitary glands to secrete excess testosterone? Or are you people completely devoid of keeping it in ... Okay. I'm displacing my anger, but honestly. Seriously. Give me something here, I cannot understand the weirder sex anymore, I am out.

What does a girl have to do to tell you that I am the FUCK NOT INTERESTED?


Taha said...

lol,its funny(i know i may be sounding a bit absurd).
but then again,its the common "act" that made the creepy bloke do that thing(and he also must have not known the demon that you are;)..
you do have to realize that in the obnoxious world of today,random-patheic-infatuating-interactions between the opposite sexes are initiated by that sort of 'staring'. so he might have been the fuck (excuse the lanuage)intersted because the new world order is as such:).. you maybe living in the wrong century afterall..
poor you.

Majaz said...

Oh crap.

Uni said...

**grinning** .. Shadi shopping IS exhausting.. and if an incident like that occurs, it just tops things off nicely :P

The kids have become weird..and why wouldn't they ? Think about it. What ELSE do they see in the movies ?

But sucks when one's attitude is soo gruesomely misread :D

Funny post

Majaz said...

You're right, now that I think of it. All they see in movies is how to hit on a girl. They should just start an encyclopedia on it and get it over and done with already.

Anonymous said...

umm..well you could start by saying "i am the F**K not interested"...???

Majaz said...

The dopatta on my head obviously didn't make a difference.

Two stars would?

Anonymous said...

on second thoughts, make that three stars! :)... most people in this country need to be told(aggressively), as you may have already noted, rather than SHOWN what to do and what not. a female throwing expletives is still a rarity and could have an effect(unbecoming of the female, agreed..BUT given the circumstances...)mace and rolling pins would be close seconds, methinks.

Majaz said...

sigh. ok. you know what? I'll take it into my understanding that you probably don't know me at all as you read this piece and thought that if I used an expletive, it's just the kinda person I am. Tell you what. Read the archives. I curse when need be and I'm usually pretty slick on the social graces, being feminishly appropriate and all that jazz. But come a jerk or two and it'll spark something inside me which I'm sure even society's moral compass should learn to understand by now.

To that random psycho, I wasn't someone who is 'rare' enough to scream four lettered words. To him, I was a complete stranger, who doesn't have an air of 'Hi, I'm so available!'.. My friends and colleagues too, sometimes, tell me I have a back-off halo that's like a curse itself to strangers.

So, young lady/lad, cursing is irrelevant to this case. If you've got anything else to bring to the table, am all ears.

Unknown said...

oh it doesn't matter what you do love. You could wear three inch thick glasses, have unwashed dread locks and dress in a potato sack and you'd still have creeps asking for your number.
There is just something WRONG with the pakistani guy's psyche. very very wrong.

Majaz said...

Hear, hear.

Anonymous said...

oh no..didnt profile you on that at all. just saying. men have simply degenerated to the level that requires such "royal" treatment, at times.what else can be expected from himesh-listening dudes btw? grace and courtesy? i mean...just listen to the songs that loser-in-wig wonder.oh well,tis all this lad would like to add.

Majaz said...

But! But!! I had a vibe and the look of someone completely unavailable!


What is wrong with you people! :(

Anonymous said...

..eye of the beholder affect maybe? ;) :P khair, dont fret...such types are as real as AIDS and the stupendous stupidity of one's gotta deal with em.

Surbhi said...

The jerk!!! I can totally identify with what you said. This happens to all the women, all the time, all over the world. What you wear or what parts of your body are visible never does make a difference.
As someone mentioned, you should have said, loud enough for the whole shop to hear, "I'm the F*** not interested!"
Bloody moron!