Top 12 Facebook status updates after the Pak-India Asia Cup match

Top 12 Facebook status updates after the Pak-India Asia Cup matchNow that the Asia Cup is back where it rightfully belongs, withstanding a stupendous fightback from the Bengali Tigers who transformed into kindergarten crybabies ala their ‘miss miss the paki bowler pushed me! That gives me 5 extra runs! Hence WE win the cup’ whining the very next day. Kudos to their crickemathics prowess, but im afraid that’s not how it rolls boys.

Speaking of which, after a decade of ball-biting, horrendous no-ball throwing , carrying truckloads of dough in every known currency this side of the milky way and then saying ‘but that was for my sister’s marriage preparation!’ and generally doing every imaginable thing that has become synonymous with ‘the boyses’, it is time to bleed green again.

If you’re a hopeless romantic like me, (read too gone to care about hiding my age, the situation calls for squeezing that monstrosity of a tummy into your tattered and jalaibee stained ’92 world cup shirt). However, if you cannot comprehend that once one day cricket also used to be played in tighty whities, perhaps you could wear the newer darker version that our own ‘mardan ki galliyon ka Pathan’ made unforgettable.

This is not a picture of that… just thought I’d point it out.

Who does’nt want to be the magnanimous victor? And bestow praise on the vanquished foe? But lets be honest, if every house had a swear jar on the day Pakistan lost to India, our debt problems would have been a thing of the past. Heck! We might even have given the World Bank a run for its money (pun intended).

I love facebook. Who does’nt? Oh right, that guy who got swindled out of his share of the moolah by Zuckerberg in that cool movie, anyway, I digress. The great or worst thing about the social networking sites is that now one can stay connected with the world and bestow their personal pearls of wisdom, whether you want to or not, screw you world! Privacy be damned! And nowhere was this phenomenon more prominent than on the day Pakistan played India.

So without further ado, here is my list of the top twelve facebook status updates as people went through the whole spectrum of emotions ranging from feigned indifference, to gloating bliss, to magnanimity, to spine-tingling premonition, to what-the-fuck-is-happening, to conspiracy theory to nirvana…



Great innings by the prick Kohli no doubt but Misbah has to be one of the most un-imaginative, passive and least proactive captain Pakistan has ever had! Atleast try and take SOME damn initiative in 50 OVERS!

Try hard as we might, we just cannot hide our ‘lurve’ for India’s newest batting maestro. Please note the other latest fix for all our problems; blame Misbah. This syndrome keeps cropping up at will. And I must admit, Tuk Tuk, I mean Misbah is’nt doing much to rectify this malaise. Anyway, we’re not here to judge.

So stop throwing a tantrum you big baby.


India won by playing better cricket.Green shirts played well.probably one of those days when eveything goes wrong 

Bravo Dalai Lama. In your next life as a beetle, may we suggest a more tropical clime perhaps? But whatever you do, stay clear of the bug called cricket. That fucker will eat you up, one way or the other.


Ye match tumhe hi naseeb ho india walon… humari aj light nahi gae, humare liye yahi khushi boht hai. . . . . ;-) :-D

This guy’s got it all figured. He is one of those ‘mastercard’ fellas who enjoys the finer things in life. Hey who needs to boil one’s blood pressure to fatal levels over a stupid game, right? Great, we’re convinced, now quietly sneak out of the room and down the stairs to your basement. Pick up that bat, and beat the shit out of the Virat Kohli piñata. A couple of hearty whacks, coupled with your choicest obscenities and you’re ready to go back up; a picture of tranquility and peacefulness.


Latest from Wikileaks.. BCCI paid PCB $60m to keep Misbah as the captain of Pak cricket team for Asia Cup.. :p

The collective Paki hive mind shall never forget.

Step aside Julian Assange, theres a new whistle blower in town. And he blows the lid off of everything and anything. The only catch is that all his inside scoops deal with the Paki boys losing matches that they should normally win. But hey, to each his own, we’re not judging. And anyway, it makes much more sense than the stupid theory of the other guys playing better.


So the myth is further verified… india only wins when sachin tendulkar doesnt score a century….therefore the best way to win against India is to allow tendulkar to score a century!!! :/

Over the course of years, there have been countless sages who have been able to decipher the puzzle wrapped inside a mystery that is life. What a blessing that the next great Guru resides in the land of the pure and gets his relevations sitting infront of PTV Sports? This is as good as it gets. Wait a minute Guru, there’s more? So this is why Sachin has all these centuries? So that other countries can win matches against India? Wow Guru? What brand of Niswar have you been stuffing? Put me down for a year’s supply.


..actually Misbah did not get chance to play his tuk tuk today. so, he decided to take his revenge in this manner.

And here we have the ‘when all else fails, blame Misbah syndrome’ cropping up again. This guy has clearly pulled out the last strand of his hair. He is now in that blissful state of whatthefuck-isness that only the very select few can hope to achieve. The prize for this state you ask? Why nirvana ofcourse! Do anything save kicking him in the nuts, and all you’ll get in response is a beatific smile and an intellectual reason that will most probably simple sail over your ignorant head.


My Indian frnz.. Congrats nd well played.. Plz dun contact me for d next few dayz.. !!

I’ma let ju speak ina bit but foist…

This person is one more lost match away from a killing spree. But the good news is that he is trying to deal with his problem. He could do with an invitation from ‘Rage-aholics anonymous’ membership. If you live anywhere near this Desi Hulk, I’d suggest steering the conversation well clear of anything Indian. If I were you, this probably is not the best time to show him your latest Hrithik impersonation, unless you want a bat stuck where no willow should ever billow. Oh wow, im a poet, I just didn’t know it.


Message to pak team : DONT BALL SHORT…. Btw pepsi 65 ki ho gai hai.

This guy has had one pepsi too many and the resultant gas build-up has gone to his head. The match no longer matters. For all this guy cares, its time to crack jokes as a defense mechanism to make up for the empty and hollow feeling that comes with a loss. This guy needs a hug, desperately. But watch out for that pesi induced burps!


Kohli nai pakistan ki kholi.

Suffice to say everyone can reach the same joke here without us pointing it out.

You gotta love this guy. Doesn’t he paint quite a picture? I wouldn’t be surprised if after reading this your mind wanders.

Hey, theres no shame man, happens to the best of us. Especially when you’ve got Hemingway explaining everything so succinctly.


I am glad I didnt waste the entire day watching this match :p

This is the glass is half full type. It’s all about damage control and limiting your losses now. Gotta have a positive balance at the end of the day, or that pen could very well turn into a knife. Steady….steady…breath…go to your happy place.


First things first. We are through to the final :) maza awami, kha badami. 

This one is bottling up his rage and frustrations for a later stage. For now he is trying to think of life as a cheap and sweet ice cream. Way to go buddy, lick that ice cream before it melts. Serenity now..insanity later!

Top of Form

And the number one status is…..*drum roll*


As much as this game feels like its crawled up my ass and exploded.. I enjoyed watching the Indian and Pakistani batsmen today.

We refuse to accept anything else happened.

Hmmm..ok, try hard as I might, I cannot pretend to ignore it. This guy makes me realize there are bigger and better things in life than cricket. For example, not going near anything that has the tendency to crawl up your hind parts and then go KABOOM! But on a brighter note, you gotta hand to this cricket afficiando, after such a horrifically graphic ass-plosion, he still has presence of mind to appreciate a good game of cricket. Take a bow, with whatever is left of your ass.


Honourable Mentions:

Turning out to be a really good warm up before The final for The World’s Greatest Team™


bijli gone. Am sure akmal brothers are behind this too!

Oh bhens! Itnay saaray runs!


4 kinds of bosses… from HELL!!

4 kinds of bosses..Who does’nt want to be one’s own boss? Waking up when the ‘sun don’t shine’, driving a Bentley, being a playa in short. But let’s face it guys, inspite of all our illusions of self-grandeur ala Bruce Banner, most of us-sans the mythical few with the proverbial silver spoon and the fingers in the pie *ooh pie..yummyy*-we are the Peter Parkers of superheroes, minus the cool costume and spidey senses…and the hot girl. The only thing we share with Spiderman are ‘pain-in-the-neck’ (hehe what did YOU think I was going to say?! aaah gotcha! This is a family friendly site, we don’t use that word here people…mostly) bosses.

But we don’t mind showing it… so long as it’s dressed for polite company.

So, without further ado, here are the top 4 worst superiors who make Micheal Scott from ‘The Office’ look like Santa..high..Think the fellas in ‘Horrible Bosses’ had it rough? Wait till you get to spend a day with these bad boys…


# 4 – Acronym Boss

This one, as is the case with almost all head honchos on the list, has a bloated ego so large that he no longer has any use for the language of us mere mortals. Instead, to stamp his superiority, he comes up with acronyms..for everything. If he tells you to ‘K.I.S.S’ before a presentation, don’t put on that lip gloss and pucker up just yet, because that is his/her way of telling you to ‘keep it simple’. Still don’t know the reason why your boss was all smiles and kept pumping the bejesus out of your hand while saying ‘SHAJH’? Relax, he was trying to be one of the guys, and yet letting you know that there are more than one way of saying ‘TGIF’…(incase you’re still scratching your head, that’s ‘shukar hai aaj juma hai’..i kid you not!)

How’s that for an acronym you over paid asshole?

I know this does not sound that bad. Who would mind a boss who is constantly expanding their mind with the latest acronyms? Right? Think again, how many 4P’s, 7C’s and 32G’s can one human memorize? Ok so I made the last one up, but you get my drift. If your monthly performance report is in the hand of ‘Johnny Mnemonic’ here, then God help you, its time to start making ‘bootis’ again or you’re going down. Because one thing that never fails to piss the boss off is a subordinate who does not remember their ‘brainy’ acronyms..thats just insubordination, OWTH!! That’s Off with their heads in acro-lingo!


# 3 – Mirror mirror on the wall Boss

Aah the fairy tale boss. No, he doesn’t make you live in a shoe or cast any spells. But there is a similarity with the vain character in almost all of the fairy tales (see what I did there? I just made all of you pretty, vulnerable princesses, not that that’s a bad thing, right?). This type of boss believes that you are his personal ‘mirror mirror on the wall’ ala Snow White. And you get where this is going. Your day does not begin until you have paid homage to the Great One. And typically that translates to spending hour upon excruciating hour in their office listening to how smart Bunty is and what a darling Pinky is. Or how they spent last weekend at home, playing Ludo. You keep telling yourself that you’re the bigger man, by keeping that fake smile and platitudes coming. But deep down, you start loathing yourself for not driving that stapler in your boss’s mouth and stomping out.

Wait, it gets worse.

Almost as bad as that meatball who cut you off in traffic today.

You just got through the morning-worship phase and are about to finally relax in your cubicle when you hear that irritatingly hypnotic bell that emanates from the ‘Temple of Doom’. Yup, I’m afraid, not only is your sun not supposed to rise without presenting yourself infront of His Highness and praising him to high heaven, it does not set without bowing before him as well.

So in other words, you better have one of those watches that stop time so that you could use it to finish up on your work that has been assigned you. Or you need to have a very very understanding better half who does not mind you pouring over work during quality family time (yeah right, dream on). But come hell or highwater, there is no way that you can tell your boss that all these lengthy and frequent visitations are affecting your work. For according to him, he is doing you a favor, in all fairness he should be charging you for dispensing with all his pearls of wisdoms that he showers upon you all day.

So, your only hope? The boss gets a new mirror or a bad case of OCD where he cannot tolerate your presence, but until then, all hail the King!


# 2 – Peter Pan Boss

This one is an absolute nightmare if you are one of those lazy, easy going types. The Peter Pan boss just never grows up. He might have just had his third hip replacement done a week ago, but that cannot stop Mr. Incredible from hiking up ‘Trail 3’ the same evening. He has all those inspirational; Nike-just do it-mumbo jumbo on his walls and in every conference meeting and pep talk. He may be turning fifty, but he says, ‘its not the years, it’s the mileage’. For all those of you who weren’t born yet, that was a line from Indiana Jones and Raiders of the Lost Ark, and that tells you all you need to know about this type of boss.

And what does any adventure/fitness freak crave? A sidekick or an accomplice, if your self esteem still cringes at the mention of being second fiddle to somebody. And what could be better than an office employee? After all, how is it even possible that he would not be absolutely thrilled at the opportunity of sharing your zest (yep they still use that word) for sports and adventure?

… just sayin’ it’s a possibility.

So get off that chair, couch potato, because you’re about to go back to Neverland, and this time it has jogging tracks, dumbbells and steep climbs. It’s time to get your skimpy gym shorts and Service cheetah shoes out of the attic because its eye of the tiger baby, whatever that means. And forget that office cup of tea, from now on; your drink of choice is Gatorade.

Your only chance of survival you ask? A sprained ankle, limb, arm, whatever, even broken would do, just as long as you get to be substituted from the Dream Team.


# 1 – Energizer Bunny Boss

Ok this one is a giveaway; you know what you are getting into. The Energizer Bunny boss just cannot stop working. It is as simple as that. There is no getting around it. If something can be done in a week, it HAS to be done today. If something needs to be done today, it should be done right now, and if something needs to be done right now, well, what are you still standing there for? You remember compliments? Yeah they are nice, well working with this one, the only compliments your going to get are going to be from your family, for finally fixing that broken window, or taking your parents or significant other for that shopping trip. But hold on, what family life? You do know what the great Qauid said, don’t you?

‘Kaam, kaam aur buss kaam’

Now you know what those sweat shop bonded labor kids felt like don’t you?

I’d sweat for a boss like that… no questions asked.

Your chances of survival with this one are sketchy at best. There is very little, if any data on survivors. Your only chance is to switch over to workaholic-R-us camp or make your boss switch over. Now before you bring out the Rooh Afza, know this; you are venturing into unchartered territory. And you better be bring you’re a game or its time to look in the classifieds.


In a crux then, we live in a rapidly evolving world, and just as science and technology has pushed the boundaries of human intellect far beyond our wildest imaginations, it has also given birth to that rare breed of individuals whose very mention brings chills down ones spine and that sinking feeling of despair; bosses. The bad news is that this list is by no means exhaustive, it is infact just the tip of the iceberg that sank that ship just when they were singing that unbelievable hypnotically awful song. The good news is that maybe, just maybe, you might one day be on that list, IF you can keep your sanity. Until then, do whatever it is you have to do, rote learn the acronyms, use earplug for that vain boss, do your ‘buns of steel’ exercise to keep up with the freak or inject Red bull in your blood, but survive! Because, tomorrow is another day.

8 peer groups I had to put up with!


School was great, right?

Who does’nt remember those great times, when everything was so simple and care free.

Bunking classes…tape ball matches all day, bicycle races…etc

Life was simple and fun.


That was some good shit. And who can forget one’s school friends? That’s the real deal! Capital B Capital F Capital F…add another Captial F if you’re a guy, cuz you’d just learnt the ‘F’ word and wanted to use it with everything…Fuck yeaahh!!

But level with me guys, it would have been perfect if it weren’t for those ‘peer pressure’ groups, right? I mean, let’s be honest, how many of us here just had to join em to save our asses from a daily dose of ‘Atomic Wedgies’- that’s the one where they put the waistband over your head, to be fair, it’s still an urban legend, but it sure gave me many sleepless butt clenching nights.

How about a show of hands for all those stupid groups and gangs we HAD to join to save our asses and blend in? Ok, that last statement was just rhetorical guys, we’re not actually starting a ‘hands across Pakistan’ campaign and neither is this a ‘Wedge victim anonymous’ group-hug sorta cheese fest….geez!!!

I’d never wanna leave my school days, if it weren’t for those damn ‘peer pressure’ groups. Turns out, no matter how much you mature, you can never outgrow those freaks. Here’s a list of the various sub-species of the wierdos I had the pleasure/misfortune, depending on your own preference, I ran into:




What’d the five fingers say to the face?

Have you seen ‘ the Todd?’ in Scrubs? The guy has a very pronounced OCD; he cannot ignore a hand, he HAS to slap it. It seemed pretty hilarious, and for a while me and some of my friends even tried copying it. Unfortunately, we realized hand slapping is some sorta initiatization into a fraternity of bozos that love exchanging lewd jokes and expect the token hand slap at the end of each rendition. And once you’re in, theres no going back, no matter how many slaps you turn down, they’re like the Postal service man! It never fails, it just keeps coming. Theres always the next level; there’s leg slapping and then there’s chest bumping. But the latter’s an almost mythical degree that has as yet to be mastered by save the very fewest of the few, like Paes and Bhupati or the Bryan Brothers.

But no matter where you go,once you’ve slapped, there’s always another hand waiting to slap/be slapped. So get your lifelong supply of handlotions, cuz this time its for a good cause.



Imagine Vito Corleone leaving New York and settling in Pakistan. Consequently the lingo and the mannerisms have to change a bit in order to merge with the local customs and language. Unfortunately these guys are still stuck in some sort of a time warp or parallel universe where every fucking sentence MUST start with ‘Bhai jee’…Exhibit A:

Bhai jee where were you last night?

Bhai jee I was stuck at work.

Bhaaaaaaiiiiii jeee *to express incredulity* I watched Sultan Rahi’s movie last night, Bhai jee it was TABAHEEE (there is NO other word to express joy, even your dad is a tabahee if he gets you that latest BMX cycle.)


Excuse me while I handle my snake… not THAT you pervs!

The only available comeback in the ‘bhai jee’ vocab for tabahee…wait for it…KAMAAAL!! So the next time you run into a tabahee freak , you ‘kamal’ the living crap outta him!



This one’s fairly obvious and pretty well known to all the Karachi boys. A distant cousin of the Bhai jee group from the mother’s father’s midget brother’s side, these guys are into the good things in life. Me thinks they’ve got a fixation on luxuriant locales for some reason. To overcome the lack of greenery, they compensate their vocab with a lotta ‘Lush-push’ (read: amazing, excellent!) words. And if you’re ‘one of the guys’ or in Mafia lingo, if you dream of getting ‘made’ , you need to earn your ‘mamay-ness’. Yep, that’s right, the ultimate rank of the brother-hood is ‘Lush mamay’ , that’s like if you’re Santa Claus…. on Christmas…high… getting laid.

All outsiders, until they get their ‘mamay’ badges are either Bhonssnuts, Matarways and Maarkhors. As long as you’re not addressed by these terms, you’re flying under the radar man, its all cool, watch out for the paan spit!




Life’s literally a drag for this group. Everything revolves around the fag (not THAT kind though) for them. Whether it be waking up, taking a dump, eating or sleeping- have a light, will travel. These guys will always have your back, most probably ‘cuz they think you stash your cigs there or something. This group has the lowest defection rates, again ‘cuz most of the inmates either die or can’t stop ‘puffing the magic dragon’. Rumor has it that there are double agents going by various names under the Nicotine Patches organization and its sister brand E-Cig, working inside though, who are trying to convert some of the die hard fanatics.

You’re welcome to join this group, but may I suggest just auditing the course for a couple of years as a Second-hand smoker first? And be sure to look up the Advanced career options in this area; drug addiction and cancer. By now, have a nice life. :p



Nope its not a group for fair complexioned people, you’re thinking Fair and Lovely, aren’t you? This group consists of those friends that you just can’t get enough of. And since us hardy, sturdy, masculine hunks have no other way of showing our platonic love, what do we do? Why we hold hands, no wait, that sounds gay. We hold pinkies. Yeah now that’s some hardcore male bonding happening.

This is an exclusive club and not anyone can just walk in and grab the nearest pinky, unless you wanna get an ass-whooping. You have to be really manly and oozing testosterone levels that are off the chart, a big moustache always comes in handy to convince the world that you’re the next desi Hulk Hogan. Add some chin high flowing chest hair and you’re good to go. Now flaunt that pinky!


Correction: Pinky and crotch grab group.



The poond’s are just regular guys… with no life. They are into girls, cuz cmon who is’nt? Where they excel is in the self disillusion that the feeling is mutual. And ‘tera bhai’ by which they mean themselves- yeah in severe cases they refer to themselves in the third person- is one step away from going out with EVERY girl you point to. Whats that step you ask? Why going and talking to them ofcourse. But
that’s where ‘tera bhai’ draws the line. That never happens, other than that, ‘teri soch hai, aur bhai ki approach hai’


Thair ja bhai nay is pose main bari bachian phasain hain.




WAAZAAAA… needless to say.

Aaaaahhhh, a timeless classic. Now this is a boys boy gang. It has not only withstood the test of time but has consistently updated its lingo. Like, I was pleasantly surprised when last week I ‘wazzzaaaaaaaaaaaaaa’ed my kid brother and he ‘Izzzzzzzzaaaaaaaaoooooon’ed me back. Apparently the brotherhood of the knuckleheads has decided that the official salutation of the group has to be changed from the archaic ‘whats up’ to ‘its on’. Sign of a devoted member of the community is how long you can hold your breath and extend the greeting. Others gems that you need to know to be one of the boys:

1) Easy ho ja———Relax, take a chill pill

2) Miss kera de——Ignore him/her

3) Laaaaaivaaaaaaal——-Level! Too good..(As an added category, there are degrees, like level 1,2 uptill 10 being the highest. I have yet to meet witness anything beyond level 7 so far. On the flipside, the lowest level is a ‘yard’, explained below.)

4) Fukinshytemaan——–(that’s just a bad Irish accent) Fucking shit maan!

5) Tikkkiteeezy——— (Pretty straightforward, if you don’t get it, please refer to #2)

6) Yard——–short for junkyard.



These are the guys who would one day build codes and program some cool shit. But that would have to wait until they could pass puberty. For now they are the male version of the gossip mongers, and since they can’t be seen doing it in public they have devised an elaborate scheme of using codewords and nicknames for every person of interest. Some masterpieces of the golden age that I
have been a part too are:

1) Bombers—(two hotties who were in the gang’s radars, individually they were called….*drumroll* Hiroshima and Nagasaki)


2) S.A.T—-She’s all that, sadly she had a boyfriend, H.A.T, we HAD to name him that, cuz he did have the girl (pretty inspired thinking, right?)

3) Gutter-sitter—-I feel for her, sadly the first time she came under the spotlight, she had been sitting atop a man-hole cover, so it had to be that.

And so it goes on, since time immemorial. No man is an island. And in such a densely populated country as ours, it is almost impossible not to be part of any group/gang/code. So until next time, be seeing you Bhai jee, have a lush push week, *hand slap*.


We who are about to die, salute you…

Whenever we are at a family gathering or an occasion and the conversation is starting to get stale, one of my uncles or cousins winks or prods me. And that is my cue to launch into my favorite topic:

Army bashing.

And the target is always abba, who after some 30 plus years of following his passion and serving at all terrains in uniform, never fails to rise to the occasion, and defend ‘my second mother’ whenever anyone dares even raise a finger to it.

I follow a typical set procedure of nudges and pokes. One of my ‘accomplices’  joins in, by saying something like, ‘We sure wish the Army would take over the government, look at the haalat these days.’

Abba  perks up, and then composes himself again.

These Army guys are nothing if not adaptable. He knows by now that Im just trying to provoke him into an argument for the sake of the gathering. Like a wizened and battle scarred veteran that he is, he ignores my jabs and feints, while I play for the gallery.

He chuckles and sighs, and once in a while i detect a slight sympathy for me, as if saying, you don’t know what you’re talking about son. And that condescending look ALWAYS eggs me on. Like a fool I mistook it for weakness.

I have my usual arsenal; the countless marshal law tenures , the rampant corruption in the system, how every soldier that takes the oath in the academy to defend the constitution, ultimately breaks it by coming in to power, and the other rabble rousing material that is being thrown about in the media.

Most of the time, they work, and I get what I want; a charging soldier, bayonet pointed straight at me.

My supporters, the relatives and cousins, sit up straight and order a second round tea, now we’ve got a party.

My father, a typical soldier, is easy.

He charges straight at you.

No deception, no trickery.

I have always considered that a folly, one other reason for ridiculing the military and its outdated system.

My new fangled ideas of intellect have clouded my reasoning and I mistake chivalry and bravery for simpleness. All these years, I have been ignorant, but now I see.

If my father refuses to take the bait, I always have one last card up my sleeve that makes him livid.

The defeat at East Pakistan, and how we surrendered half our country.

My father literally jumps from his seat; he gets livid and animated, all at the same time.

Its a cheap trick on my part, he always falls for it. I throw in Musharraf and countless other examples to stoke the fire.

All in all, its a great discussion, and people thank me for entertaining them. I walk away smug and content.

Abba just looks at me and smiles, its a sad smile.

‘If only you were not my son’ he says.

I shrug and tell him something along the lines of me being more educated and upto date and just pointing out the facts which he is choosing to ignore; that it is not the same Army anymore.

He does not seem to hear anything, just takes this long deep sigh and says, ‘How can you hate the army, when your father, and  your grandfather served in it?’

It always rankles me, in the deepest recesses of my heart, even though on the surface I don’t let it show. I have  resigned myself to the fact that I don’t like the Army that much. It seems like the simplest and most easiest answer at the time.

But sometimes, whats simple and straight forward may not be true. And if there is one thing that you can count on in life, its that sooner or later you will have to face up to the truth.

It has happened with me.

Last night, I found out that a senior of mine at Cadet College Hasan Abdal,PA-39548 Maj Zaka Ul Haq 41st entry, Iqbal Wing, has been trapped under an 80 feet avalanche at Siachen along with more than a 100 of his brothers in arms.

Since then, I have been unable to sleep in peace.

It is true that death teaches you a lot about life. This is the second one in a short span of time. First it was my cousin, Shehryar Noon. His death has made me realize the fleetingness of life and all things material.

The second one has made me question my own heart; about courage, devotion and commitment.

I remember Zaka. We were not friends. He was my senior. From Iqbal Wing, I was from Aurangzeb wing. We have always been rivals in all competitions. We tend to consider ourselves as the better sportsmen, us Zebites. It always rankled us because Iqbalians always won more trophies. We found them arrogant and aloof, just as I guess they found us.

And yet, even at that time, Zaka intrigued me.

He was not naturally gifted, yet he played all sports and was a member of all wing teams. So i got to personally know him as i faced him in our do-or-die football matches. He had no talent, but what he lacked in skill, he more than made up with a heart that was huge. You had to be willing to get your legs broken if you planned on getting the ball past him. Because he would rather die than let his team, his wing, his brothers lose.

Off the field, he was gregarious, loud and ALWAYS smiling, with a joke. I remember his debates in English. He had no prior debating experience but he shouted and he waved his hands..and the crowd responded! We were up on our feet in the Abid Majeed amphitheater, cheering him on wildly.

Thats what i remember of him.

Those are the type of people who go into the Pakistan Army.

I am reminded of this sentence in the movie ‘A few good men’ where one of the protagonist asks the other ‘why do you like them( the Army) so much.’

And she replies something along the lines of ; ‘ because they stand on a wall, and they say nothings going to happen tonight, not on my watch.’

I always figured myself to be the smart one, for choosing not to go in the Army. I was a color holder in sports at Hasan Abdal, I could do it all. I figured joining the Army to be the easy way, and I opted for more studies and a career in the Civil Services.

The truth is I was scared…

I was selfish…

I could not imagine committing myself to such a tough life, for a cause I did not understand. I was not ready to put my country before myself.

I know better now.

I don’t hate the Army, abba. I LOVE it. I grew up idolizing it through you. I was there with you when you were at Sukkur during the Anti-Dacoit operations. I watched the ‘jawans’ , putting their lives in your hand, and you reciprocating their love and devotion.I was there when you came home with blisters on your feet from the 30 mile walk.The countless exercises in the desert, when we’d sit by the phone waiting for a call. I grew up watching all that.

I have seen my room-mate at HasanAbdal and one of my closest friend Major Noman Shiekh come back from Siachen, a mere shell of his former self. And i wondered, what makes a person go through that for something so abstract as just a piece of land. I remeber him at Hasan Abdal, and I look at him now. I still see the gangly boy, but I see determination and a steely resolve now which we only saw once when he led our Wing to the runners-up trophy in the Obstacles Course competition. Those are the sort of people in the Pakistan Army; men of honor.

Men of steel.

Somewhere along the line, I grew up and saw the Army not as you had shown it to be, and I was dis-illusioned. I don’t hate the Army, I felt cheated out of my dreams. I felt that some elements  were maligning the Army from the lofty place it deserves and holds in my and I’m sure every Pakistani‘s hearts.

I feel so much better now, because I finally know that I am my father’s son. An Army officer‘s son. My army bashing is infact, my anger at us, as a people, a society having lost our way.

Today as I along with my fellow Abdalians, pray for a miracle to save our friend, our brother, I also pray for my valiant Pakistani soldiers and I salute them for being more man than I could ever be.

Hehe you thought I could never say it abba, so here it is ;

Pakistan Fauj Zindabad, Pakistan Paindabad!

I always thought she lacked the game to make it into the big time..lets hope she’s learnt from the last two years and has developed into a more well-rounded player so that she can live upto her hype..