Of Prediction Cat

While the rest of you are total buffoons and follow horoscopes and Psychic applications on Facebook that deduce how your day is going to be based on the way your Fishville fish are swimming (Okay, horoscope following people aren’t buffoons. the latter are.) I have a living breathing psychic at home.

My cat’s like a super-charged Magic 8 Ball. We just started to exploit her abilities.

• I asked her if I had a chance of getting into KIET (so that if I did I’d apply there.)
• I asked whether I should go to KIET or SSUET.
• My sister asked her if she would be the anchor for the mega event our school’s holding (the one for which I’m slaving away.)
• Mum asked whether she and her sister will become friends (Not that she’s dying to be friends … family politics)
• Mum asked if a relative of ours who recently eloped with some guy and just came back would be welcomed by the guy’s mother (since now she’s the mother of the heir)
• I asked her if a friend of mine should respond to this chichora guy asking her out (even though the obvious answer is no)

And lo-behold.

• She said yes, I applied for KIET and got in
• She said yes, and I paid the fees.
• She said no, and turns out that the event got delayed by a week and my sister has some fashion show at the exact same day in school.
• She said Yes and in Feb (this we’ll have to wait and see. As it is, my other khala, who can’t stand siblings fighting is coming over to Karachi in Feb)
• She said no, and yesterday Mum found out that the relative’s mother-in-law still hates her, and has disowned her son
• She said no, even she knows he’s an ass.

So yeah.

I know most of you must think I’m insane – have you even read the blog? I am insane and proud of it. But the cat’s prophecies are true. Sure she can’t talk, but she can move, meow, and sit on things. Like a parrot, only a thousand times more accurate.

Today, the headmistress’s office is getting a total make-over. New paint, new chairs, new upholstery. The last time this happened, our old head, Ms Farah, was booted off to another section. I should go and ask Prediction Cat if our current head has job security or not.

BTW, TOMORROW'S SINGLES DAY! MAKE YOUR NEAREST COUPLE MISERABLE!!

Of Fathers and Tailors

If you live in Karachi, you must be familiar with this building. It’s Moosajee’s Defence branch,

Moosajee’s is a well known brand of bespoke suiting. My awesome cousin from the UK decided to treat me to a suit too. So, since he’s footing the bill, I’ll be in possession of an awesome suit soon

Now, today was my trial fitting. Naturally, trial fittings mean that the suit is no where near complete. It’s just a bunch of pieces of expensive fabric loosely stitched together.

Dad was really eager to go with me to the trial. Now, before I continue, let me tell you something about my dad. He picks a fight with everyone. He’ll get pissed at the smallest of things. We go to celebrate mum’s birthday at Pizza hut, salad bar’s out of cucumbers, dad throws a fit. Naturally keeping such incidents in mind, I tried my best to somehow leave dad home. Sadly my luck sucks.

So, I’m at the trial, the tailor gave me the trousers, tossed me into the dressing room. Now, i found out that the trousers didn’t have anyway to keep the fly completely closed. Soon as I wore the trousers, dad barges in. One look at my semi closed fly and he’s up in the tailor’s grill. Statements such as “In England suits are made with precision” “I got suits made when you were still a little kid” etc were tossed about the dressing room.

So needless to say, the tailor was bullied into pinning my fly shut (an uncomfortable experience for the both of us – which I’ll get around to blocking from my memory as soon as I’m done with this post.) Then dad saw that I was without shoes. He sweep kicked them from across the room towards me yelling at me to wear them.

Then he continued to order the tailor around, altering my suit (which looks damn good as it is by the way) to a style that was in fashion in the 1940s.

So, not only was I extremely embarrassed, even the tailor was getting uncomfortable and since dad was shadowing me, I never got the chance to apologise for dad’s behavior or ask him to ignore all the alterations dad made him do.

After a very silent trip home, I finally had the brilliant idea as dad was out of the house to call the shop. The tailor had some trouble remembering who I was till I said “I’m the guy whose dad is uh…ummm *ahem* *ahem*” to which he said “OH YESSSSS!! What can I do for you.?” Undid all the weird ass changes.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t particularly like undermining dad’s authority. Dad’s got his huge-ass flaws, but I would rather let him believe that he’s doing the right thing than shatter his dreams. Not to mention piss him off. Pissed off dad is very very bad for health.

Of V-Day

The world's most pathetic celebratory event.

This isn't a case of sour grapes, but please! Couples get all sorts of opportunities to celebrate their love for each other. You have week-iversaries, month-iverseries, dates, and hot make-out sessions as it is. Do you honestly need another day to rub it into our single faces?

We should have a S-Day. Singles Day. Where single friends get to embarrass the couples by revealing secrets and deep dark thoughts of one half of the loving couple to the other. Basically one day when couples would hide in their own closets (alone) afraid to even call the other one.

Single people unite! I propose every Feb 21st be an Anti Valentines Day! We will make every happy couple uncomfortable (no, we won't break them up... just make them regret ever rubbing their happiness in our faces)

So spread the word. 21st Feb we make people miserable. Because we all are very very single and very very harami.