This Weekend in my Life

I still can’t believe it. That this Saturday we actually went out and saw Yeh Dil Aap Ka Hua, Javed Shiekh’s, magnum opus. And when I had to share such an important piece of news, my computer went bonkers, kaput, partly, fully that I don’t know nor do I care to. For all I was concerned, I couldn’t update my blog for three days, or was it two? Saturday and Sunday, because I didn’t come to the office and the home story you already know. So Sitara bhabi had to wait. And with so much to write about, it means yet another very long read. Hehe, as if it isn’t always ;) Now what is this about having my brother married off to a star? No, the very Easternly garbed, pajama clad Sana was named Sitara in the flick all ladies of two houses had gone off to see Saturday. Pakistani movies, in our family circles, are not to be seen and once when we had eaten the ears off our Phoophi jan to take us to see Samina Peerzada’s Inteha, she sneaked out with her hubby, watched the movie and came back home in such a dangerous mood that we lost all hopes of seeing a Pakistani flick in the cinema. Such is the reputation of Pakistani movies, the very mention of them is sure to be met with a glacial look form the parents and guardians alike. But this one was a different ball game altogether. Going to a cinema to watch a movie had become something of a joke in our family and even before we took our case to the relevant authorities, we braced ourselves for a refusal. Not this time though, heaven knows if they had seen the movie already and given it a clearance for us to watch, but this time the Phoophi jan was ready to take us to watch just this one, and this meant that Mom would have to yield in too, and that Pa would also not veto it since his own sister fuelled the dangerous fire. And so, we all went off to the Capri cinema, right in front of my sister’s teaching hospital, where Tere Pyaar Mein was also screened but we couldn’t go to see. We bought the tickets and rushed upstairs, were shown our seats and take them we did. We missed the opening scenes where Saleem Sheikh looks breathtakingly handsome as a Bull fighter, (the movie is Spain based), the next three hours just whizzed by as I was captivated by the Sana’s enchanting Eastern charm. Surprise, surprise, there were no moments in the movie that we regretted having brought our moms along. None, can you believe it, in a Pakistani movie!! For those who think it to be too much, I tell this, just three days back I had was dumbstruck as I saw Noor thunder to a number in Shaan directed Daku. What she did in the name of dance I can’t even mention, it was yucky and Goodness know what she was trying to do and Heaven knows what the director had in mind when making such frames!! But this one had nothing of that sort in it, save some unwanted scenes that I suggest were enough for the Arab Sheikhs to take the Pakistani Sheikh to the courts. Moammar Rana dressed up as a woman and cons the sheikh to move to a suite. The sheikh did not look a bit like an Arab, and neither did Moammar look like someone to die for. The tastes of Arabs can’t have been that bad, but so much for a director’s liberty of fiction, a bit far stretched but liberty all the same. The story was nothing to write home about, the songs we had heard and turned a blind ear to, so much had they been played on the TV, the acting was across the border inspired, but boy, did Sana look ravishing! All that she was required to do was look pretty, lip synch and sway to a few songs and deliver five minutes of dialogues in total. But all that was enough, I would like to go to the see the movie again, just to see her magic kindle the screen (my brothers, ever full of vitriol, say that her smile alone took up half the cinema screen and her face is so big that it could only fit on the big screen!). And the end was also an idiot’s delight, as Sana’s brother, Babar Ali, the spoilsport, aims his gun at his errant sister and her love, the Salman Khan naqqal, Momy, his best friend whom only moments earlier was plummeted by the hero for wanting the hand of the winsome lady, fires and kills the big brother. The lady instead of seeing and attending to her brother in the last moments of his life, chooses to stay behind and share the ending honors with the two men. Not enough, here’s the punch line, the hero’s name is Falak, the heroine is of course Sitara and the best friend turned foe turned friend and savior again is Chand!! Ha, a whole constellation, and dialogues to match. Sitara Falak per rehta hei, Chand ko girhan lag bhi jae to rehta who falk per hi hai!! Despite this I wouldn’t say no to seeing it again, the magic of the big screen is undoubtedly addictive. Once seated in the dark gallery we never knew where three hours went by. (I have not been to the cinema, because my family believes the Karachi cine-going crowd makes the place a place that is best stayed away from, save once when we saw Jinnah, that too safely chaperoned by two brothers). This time however the crowd was familial, with more ladies and of good bearings too. An experience not to be forgotten. Our next stop after stepping out of the cinema was the smuggle goods hoard, Gul Plaza. Next we went off to Tariq Road. While we have always been four awara kuris, it was the first time that we were tagged by our mothers and now they ought to know why we are so fond of matar ghushting on Tariq Road. Having left home at ten thirty, we returned at six in the evening, and Pa opening the door greeted us with, Oh, so you have returned after all, we had thought you would come in after closing the cinema after the 9-12 show. Not that we would have minded ;) Next day was a Sunday and since I had stayed back on Saturday, I should have come to the office, but I was in such bad humor, my job contract still not in sight that I didn’t feel like it at all. And so home it was, tucked in bed with Lord of the Rings(I'm near the end). Early morning toady I had a call from the people at University of New South Wales, Australia, asking me of my plans to attend the 13th DTP this February in Bangkok. Well, I can’t think of anything else these days and go there I will, even if it means leaving this job. That reminds me, I have to inquire of the status of my application for a leave. The chances that I get one are slim, so soon after joining(a month and a half), I haven’t even been confirmed in the job yet! Today’s Monday and I am here at work, waiting for all the reporters to come in so that we can have ‘the’ meeting. Not sure if I am being paranoid or if I am really being given a tough time here, but all the time it seems that my presence or absence wouldn’t matter that much. The reporters simply shake me off, and the bosses don’t seem too pleased with me. But then again, I haven’t had any opportunity to prove myself as such. Waiting till such a day dawns. Still.