Blue Farts

The nouveau riche of a third world country are just an exclusive breed who upon climbing the ladder of society tend to discard the cloak of their conscience and true identities to swim in the sea of socialites.

My recent interaction with the newly acquired blue blooded people was more than disgusting, with a country hit by the biggest devastation of floods and a plane crash what these people had were blue farts out of their wrong holes… very explicitly their mouths.

The conversation on the regal iftar party revolved around dropping the right names making sure your contacts were the mightiest. A month of piety turned into a total flash and pomp event with menu good enough to feed 200 empty stomachs. The gentry all wearing branded lawns and embroideries with perfectly blow dried hair after spending good time and money and all the alpha males reeking of wealth. Let alone the adults the stench of money came from the younger lot with cellular phones worth my two months of salary, but with an avalanche of money comes a shovel of responsibility to let it out in the right people, which unfortunately these superficial lot were not aware of. Mrs. X could not stop farting about her foreign trip to UK and how she made a killing at the big brand stores there, how she bought her Jimmy Choos and Manolo Blahnick with her pet of a son in law doing well in the stock exchange. Half the times I caught myself mesmerized by the whiff of money and pining for a similar lifestyle but I have to thank Almighty for getting my conscience out of the serious money hypnotism. I sat there assimilating how the whole echelon of the poor country was not a pixel different from the modern civilized countries, who spoke about money n fashion incessantly; yet the similarity was just on talk and appearances, their inside was ugly and bitter unlike the French or English aristocracy at least they had a heart when things went wrong with their light skinned brothers. But here we as followers of a religion where color and caste is not a question I sat in shallow people who did not give a hoot to the sufferings of people just the topics of designers, marriages, divorces, mergers bankruptcies and poor friends * with extra spice and chuckles* were discussed.

A time to be together with the underprivileged and devastated by showing some solidarity turned into the most grotesquely pretentious get together.

Some blue farts of self proclaimed blue blood.

Page from a Karachiite girl's diary

Morning exercise is one thing which has kept me sane through out, living in an urban city where everything seems to go awry one minute and hilarious the other bit, I took up my healthy morning habits of exercising and enjoying the Karachi breeze which is synonymous with tranquility; yes well laced with bus smoke and pollution I still seem to enjoy the Kolachi wind which kisses my room good morning.