We Are All Aamir Liaquat

Just shedding some light on the FACT that everyone is actually just Dr Aamir Liaquat Hussain trapped in a different body.


You often secretly feel like a total boss.


More often than you should, actually. This is you after a presentation.


In fact, you’re positive you ARE royalty. 


You think you are smarter than everyone.


You cannot stand most kids but you have had to pretend you like them.


In fact, you sometimes wish you could give away that annoying kid in your family


When your jam is on the radio, no one can stop you from grooving.


Sometimes you can’t stop admiring what you see in the mirror


At some point, you’ve also posted a ‘Jummah tweet’ or Facebook status.


But you also love sweet, sweet subtweeting 😉

In front of your family, you’re a total angel.


When you’re with your friends, you swear non-stop and crack ridiculously sexual perverted jokes which you laugh your own ass off at


But when your mum tells you your female cousin was caught speaking to her ‘boyfriend’ on the phone…


You’ve pretended to read the news to look smart


This is you on the weekend. #IftaarShow


And this is you on Monday mornings. #MorningShow


This is you on Shabe Qadar….Or when bae doesn’t text back.


Sometimes you find yourself helplessly unable to give a fuck about things.


We are all Aamir Liaquat and it is high time we admit it.


90’s Pictorial Film Rewind: Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

For 90’s bolly kids like myself, life would never have been the same if it wasn’t for this particular movie. I know how to weave a friendship band. And I know you probably owned a “C_O_O_L” necklace like Rahul at some point in your life, too.

Today we’re rewinding Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, because rare things feel as good as a solid kick to the childhood.

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai is a beautiful story about the triumph of conformity over everything else. It is a heart-touching film experience which strengthens your ancient beliefs — don’t be yourself, especially if you’re a woman. By the end of KKHH, one finds themselves saying “Jeet hamesha p̶y̶a̶a̶r̶  sari ki hoti hai” (L̶o̶v̶e̶  sari always wins).

As we have learned, all 90’s Bollywood super hits start with a scene where someone’s reminiscing about the good days. That’s what happens here. We see a very sad Rahul (SRK, duh) standing near a burning chittha, mourning the loss of his wife, Tina, who died soon after childbirth.

Tina left 8 letters for her newborn daughter and asked Rahul’s mum to give one letter to her on each of her 8 birthdays.

We are fast-forwarded into Mumbai 8 years later. Rahul and Tina’s daughter Anjali has grown to be a total doll! A beautiful Cabbage Patch Kid doll…

She wants to be a VJ when she grows up …..LMAO!

Anjali and daddy are fascinatingly close to each other. She has to help him do everything – even shop for his clothes.

Daadi (Rahul’s mum) is a religious woman. She often delivers religious sermons on bringing up children to women in the neighbourhood.

Kid is kind of annoying but no one says anything to her because she is motherless. Everyday things remind this poor child of her motherlessness. One day at a junior talent show in school,  THIS happens. #AllMyFeels…..

Daadi tells Rahul he should remarry but he believes marriage only happen once. #YOMO

Anjali’s eighth birthday arrives and she finally gets to read the last letter her mum wrote to her.

We are taken back in time, to the life of a young college-going Rahul Khanna and his annoying best friend with an unspecified gender, Anjali Sharma. Imagine dealing with this every morning.

They’re practically always fighting. Anjali fucking DETESTS having a perfectly good female reproductive system. She gets quite pissed if you remind her she’s a woman. Actually, she’s pretty much always pissed.

This is not even her final form, guys.

The amount of shit St Xavier’s college gives about Rahul and Anjali’s fights is enough to help grow crops in farms across India. If only all this time and energy was invested preparing for a test, these guys would have jobs in places other than McDonald’s in the future.

Seriously, why the fuck are these guys so excited? What is so exciting about this, please explain.

Rahul and Anjali have trouble functioning without each other, despite not being able to stand each other.

Next we meet Riffat Bee, who is Anjali’s… caretaker? I don’t know but she looks after a bunch of girls and she’s the only person who knows wassup.

And after this, we meet potential rape apologist and college principal, Mr Malhotra, who firmly believes girls wear short skirts to excite men.

Mr Malhotra’s daughter Tina (Rani Mukherjee) has arrived from London. She quit Oxford to join St. Xavier’s college in India. Yup. Brilliant decision. Exactly why your dumbass shouldn’t be at Oxford.

Rahul is struck by Tina’s beauty, but the narrow-minded misogynist shitnugget in him is standing in the way.

But soon, Tina proves her mettle and qualifies as sanskaari bahu/biwi material. A hymn is a surefire way to win most desis’ hearts.

Got caught shoplifting? Break into a hymn.
Bad grades? Hymn your way out.
Rishta time? Hymn swag.

In English class, a little bit of inefficient hinting on Rahul’s part leads to this massive misunderstanding.

Lots of our favourite songs happen while strengthening this misconception further….Koi Mil Gaya!

Rahul and Tina’s love is blooming. Anjali is as relevant as stick-on nails on a rabbit.

Anjali begins to get overly possessive about Rahul, which is LOLworthy and not something you need to acknowledge. Her realness ain’t shit compared to Tina’s sanskaar-skirt combo. Dat shit KILLAH.

As you would expect, Anjali’s attempts to become Rahul’s main squeeze go in vain. Dressing up girly, trying to be nice — nothing works. She’s always the pichwaara of all jokes and is forever going to be in the bro-zone.

Heartbroken to see Rahul and Tina in love, Anjali decides to leave the college and go to another city, back to her family. I’ve been bro-zoned before, that shit does make you want to move to another city.

90 minutes of film later, Anjali (Rahul’s daughter) gets done with reading her mum’s letter. She’s eight. Who the fuck writes a novel for an eight-year-old? You guessed it – Tina.

Of course Tina mummy hasn’t taken into consideration that it has been EIGHT FUCKING YEARS. Anjali is probably married and has three kids. Or she’s dead. Or has moved to Vegas. But oh well.

Little Anjali asks her dad about his college BFF Anjali and he tells her what she was like.

Anjali Sharma has finally turned into every other girl. By defeating her actual sporty personality after years of struggle, she is perfect bahu material. But UH OH. She’s getting engaged to Aman (Salman Khan).

Meanwhile, little Anjali and her grandparents are trying to trace back big Anjali. From school records to going to Riffat Bee, they try everything.

When they reach Riffat Bee’s house, she’s obviously praying because believe it or not, that is all us Muslims do in films.

Aunties pray on janamaaz, and uncles (often called Kareem Chacha) wear skullcaps and hold rosaries for fashion.

Luckily, Riffat Bee tells them where Anjali lives and that she’s getting married in a week. But then Little Anjali begins to pray and somehow, Big Anjali’s wedding is delayed until December.

Religious daadi ji is going to whoop her ass when they get home for sure.

Not only is the wedding delayed but we also find out Big Anjali is considering this entire thing a compromise and isn’t in love with Aman.

Big Anjali goes to a summer camp in Shimla every year to teach kids dancing and singing. Being a stalker from the womb, Little Anjali is obviously on her way to that summer camp now.

Meanwhile, Rahul and Aman bump into each other at a conference over a “Anjali calling” mix-up at the hotel’s reception. And Aman’s just… weird. This is not how you start a conversation.

Anjali meets Anjali at summer camp. Creep that she is, the kid doesn’t spare a minute before freaking out her teacher.

Through a TV show where “love messages” are being sent out, Big Anjali realises Little Anjali is Rahul and Tina’s daughter. She also misses another huuuge ass misconception by a hair.

Little Anjali fakes being ill, making concerned father Rahul catch the first flight/truck/train to Shimla. He sees Anjali at the summer camp… Big Anjali. #HawtDamn

A fews days later, Rahul’s male superiority complex kicks in again and he declares that women cannot play basketball, thereby earning a basketball match with Anjali.

They both cheat a little and Anjali loses.

And soon, they start getting attracted to each other. By “soon”, I mean over one 3-minute song.

Hell, things even get kind of steamy on rainy night.

In the middle of the mating dance, Anjali realises she’s engaged and runs into the woods crying. You know, because that is the right thing to do. There, she confesses her love for Rahul to… herself. Or this tree.

I have a few questions at this point. How did this Rottweiler get here? No, not to Shimla, I mean this particular tree in the middle of the woods. Is this man a dog? How do you trace a person clung to a tree in the woods on a rainy dark night? Shit, I can barely see my own hand when it rains.

Also, why did he not ask WTF Anjali was doing confessing her love to a tree? Why would you say “I love you too” to her unless you are this tree?

Even on other notes, Aman is beyond annoying and scary. He often gives you those “I love you but may kill one day” vibes. And I think he’s drunk most of the time.

Mind you, Rahul is shady as fuck also. Upon discovering Aman is Anjali’s fiance, dude totally acts like nothing happened last night.

Little Anjali tries everything she can to stop this union from happening.

Everyone’s tricks fail and Anjali leaves the camp early, looking forward to her wedding. Even the quiet Sikh kid who is always counting stars can’t stop her. Yes, that one kid who came to camp to get sky fuckin’ high, clearly.

Rahul gives Anjali a red chunri she once gave to Tina. Did he pull it out of his ass? Does he always carry it? #fuckreason

Anjali takes it and leaves. Rahul’s life sucks. It’s ALWAYS like this when he’s in a movie with Kajol.

Anjali goes home and insists on getting married as soon as possible. But Rahul has not entirely given up, so they go to Anjali’s wedding, only to do this. What a tease.

Forget everything. May I ask where the fuck this balcony is? Tower of The Skies? Why is there an unnerving number of stars in the sky? Was this wedding held on Hubble’s lense? Questions questions, no answers.

Now that Rahul and his uninvited family have officially stunk up this bhalli changi wedding — with Anjali crying, her mum getting uncomfortable, and Aman getting mad suspicious — these bitches decide it is okay to leave. Thanks a lot for that, guys. Poor Aman, getting in the middle of your bitch tantrums.

Aman, who can sense what is wrong (as can everyone at the wedding) gets up, grabs Anjali by the arm and tells her what she should do. She makes an assessment.

OMG DUH. I would pick Rahul in a blink too. SOOO CUTE. So what if it took 8 years, a daughter, lots of saris, lots of make-up, Tina’s death, a destroyed wedding and a forced meeting for him to realise he was in love?

Also, Aman’s sense of humour, my god, ew. Who cares if he’s nice enough to sacrifice everything for Anjali’s happiness? I’d rather he marry that basketball he was eyeing earlier.

Guess he wasn’t A-man enough for her (haaaaaaaaaaaa).

So that is that. Hope you all learned a few things:

– You have to be selfish sometimes.

– Wear saris. Saris are fkn rad, boys love that shit.

– No skirts for good girls unless you can pair them up with a hymn. #summercollection

– Pick Shah Rukh, always.

– Bad boys win

– Don’t write long letters to 8-year-olds. In fact, avoid any interaction with children.


Twitter: @SheikhImaan
Facebook: Imaan Say
Email: contactimaan@gmail.com

90’s Pictorial Film Rewind: Hum Aapke Hain Koun

Sorry for being at it again, but I couldn’t resist. I am ruining yet another 90’s classic for you. Today we’re rewinding Hum Aapke Hain Koun. Believe it or not, there is a little bit of script in this wedding song compilation.

Hum Aapke Hain Koun (a musical) is the tragic true story of a dog called Tuffy, who just couldn’t take this shit anymore.

The film opens with a bunch of people playing cricket. Now for slower viewers, like yours truly, the makers of this film have been kind enough to label everything. Images and sounds are not enough for me to grasp these things.

BOY: Thank god they told me that was a boy under that hat. I was kind of sure it was a refrigerator until the close-up.

UMPIRE: This is more than a dog in a hat. If you look closely, it is a picture of every umpire we’ve ever had in Pak vs India matches.

BUM CHUMS: Because your bum gets lonely sometimes and boobies make great friends. #Chums4Evr

Anyway, this scene is an excuse to meet our guy Prem (Salman Khan), whose is one enthu, merry little bugger.

Prem is an orphan. He and his brother Rajesh have both lived with their uncle Kailashnath (Alok Nath) since they were kids.

Better known as Samurai Sanskaar or Cap’n Kanyadaan, Kailashnath has never married. That’s slightly odd for a guy who cannot wait to marry off anyone he can get his hands on.

Kailashnath wants a sundar susheel sanskaari girl for Rajesh. His friend’s daughter is exactly that. She lives in another city so the guys decide to go there, but Uncle and Prem don’t tell Rajesh the reason for going. Cheeky fellows.

On that note, we are taken to the other city and we meet our heroine… The sister of aforementioned rishta girl, Nisha (Madhuri Dixit). She’s the bee’s knees with skates on!

She’s put in charge of the local library for a while and that’s when she meets Prem. This is the start of many cliché cutesy Bolly couple fights, better known as nok-jhok.

The families both love each other and a lot of harassment later, Rajesh and Pooja (Nisha’s sister) get engaged, soon to tie the knot.

Among the guests in the shaadi ghar are Kailashnath’s friend’s family. The daughter (remember Bum Chums?) tries really hard to impress Prem.

Now I like her for the nostalgia value because she bears a striking resemblance to the Goombas from Super Mario Bros. However, I would respect her more if she were good at Goomba business (serving as an obstacle). But she isn’t.

Seriously, what the fuck is that hair?

On the other hand, Prem and Nisha’s romance is just beginning to bloom. During the wedding, Prem gives her a tour of Rajesh Bhaiyya’s best paintings (oh yeah, he’s a painter). They bond over chocolate and art.

Of course, no shaadi functions are complete without awkward moments created by borderline psychotic killer brown uncles. Anupam Kher (the samdhi) randomly announces that Kailashnath had a massive crush on his wife back in school, and even orders him to sing for her smile. You know, because that’s the graceful thing to do. #shadychachu

There’s a song where everyone kisses Samdhan Ji’s ass and lots of classic Bollywood aunty banter happens.

And after enough tomfoolery, the wedding day arrives. #LetsGetSad

It is time for the most pointlessly important shaadi tradition — joota chhupaai (hiding the grooms shoes for cash).

Prem and his servant Lallu Prasad hide the groom’s shoes in a red and yellow box, leaving Tuffy to guard it. This is not a particularly wise move because would you fucking look at Tuffy? He is no Rottweiler. He’s a tiny ass toy dog with the physical strength of a snowflake. Of course, the box is stolen and hidden by the larkiwalas.

Here’s something for your vocabulary:
Songotiation (noun): An Indian style of negotiating whereby the negotiation takes place in a song.

Nisha gets the joota money after songotiating with Prem. They have an intense moment in Nisha’s room while fighting to get their hands on the shoes. I wouldn’t blame anyone for intense moments in Nisha’s room and here’s why. She has larger than life portraits of herself having an ice-cream cone all over the walls. That shit is enough to startle and distract anybody.

They fall in love, of course.

Oh, where are my manners! This was someone else’s wedding, so let’s not take the limelight away from Count von Count of Sesame Street, who just got himself a wife.

Congratulations! Say it with me, kids, ONE wife! Today’s programme is brought to you by the number ONE! Hah hah hah hah!

Things happen rather fast – in one song. They play lots of cricket (with like 50 kids, no idea whose kids they are). Oh, and I won’t even attempt to take into account that everyone’s hair length fluctuates like crazy. Pooja Bhaabi’s short hair grows way past the back of her knees, in like months.

Bhaabi gets preggers and they break the news to Rajesh by pointing at a poster with an infant’s picture on it. Don’t know how normal it is to have a massive poster of a baby you don’t even know in your bedroom.

Well. Hope you guys are TMNT fans because that looks like fuckin’ Krang from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Nisha comes over for the baby shower, because the rest of the family has trouble giving enough of a shit. Prem goes to pick her up and their romance is in full bloom now.

They’re in the perfect romance setting:
– Flowers
– A vehicle that screams ‘I was homeschooled’
– An animal that hates being a part of this

Not so “TUFF” against Bollywood, are you, Tuffy? Do you understand your role?

Anyway, Nisha comes over, the baby shower happens, and that part of the song we all love happens.

Didi tera devar sexual predator!

Soon, Rajesh leaves for “foreign” because “foreign” sends him a fax about work or something. Yup, that’s what they call any other country besides India. “Foreign” could be anything, from Bahrain to Australia.

He leaves with a heavy heart because the baby is due any day now. But the amount of fucks given about babies in this movie is clear from the fact that Pooja Bhaabi’s own parents never came for the bridal shower.

Meanwhile, Prem and Nisha are bonding the way most normal couples bond — by doing fucking pirouettes in the middle of the night together. #BalletBallet #ShawaShawa

A few days later, a baby boy is born.

Everyone’s excited! There are baby things everywhere. Toys galore!

Things are worrying me a little at this point because there are all these rishtedaars who never fucking leave. They’ve been living with the family since the wedding. Or they visit too often. And everyone is always dancing and dressed up.

Nisha’s always wearing these gold jhumkas the size of a dinner roll. And why is no one worried about going to work or paying the bills? I get that they’re rich but these people are abnormally happy.


#TeamEnthu #TeamDontGiveAFuck

Prem drives Pooja Bhabi to her mum’s house and tells her that he’s in love with Nisha. She acts very surprised which makes me kind of want to slap her because they were hitting on each other like teenagers for months and no one noticed.

Everyone is happy and dancing again. Especially our little Tuffles!

Aaaaaand I jinx everything because (FINALLY!) something goes wrong. Pooja Bhaabi takes a tumble down the stairs. She’s in the hospital, unable to speak, but she points her finger towards Nisha and Prem.

She dies, leaving everyone in the family mourning. This pushes  Tuffy into the dark abyss of depression even further.

The family discusses the prospect of Rajesh and Nisha’s marriage. A small misunderstanding happens and Nisha is screwed sideways.

Meanwhile, scientists declare Prem the largest invertebrate of the animal kingdom because he is the most spineless boyfriend to have ever existed. He’s cool with Bhaiyya and Nisha’s marriage because bros before hoes. He would never take this away from Rajesh.

Wedding invitations have been printed, Nisha’s gotten her henna done and not ONE soul has mentioned that she’s getting married to Rajesh. Only when she asks a friend to read out the wedding card does she realise she’s getting married to Count von Count and not Aladdin.

Nisha decides to sacrifice her love in the best interest of the family. Although, technically, no matter which brother she’d marry, she’d be in the house and be able to bring up the baby (who is the sole reason for this shit).

On her wedding day, she writes a letter to Prem and gets the necklace her sister gave to Prem and herself when they were a couple. She wraps these things in a handkerchief.

Aaaannndddd she asks Tuffy to deliver it to Prem. Yup.

And what does Tuffy do? You guessed it — deliver it to the wrongest person possible.

Raj finds out and does the right thing because LOL can you imagine an alternate ending? Prem and Nisha get married!

                                                                        ———The End———

Moral of the story:

Children are a mistake – dogs are where the party’s at. ❤

Twitter: @SheikhImaan
Facebook: Imaan Say
Email: contactimaan@gmail.com

90’s Pictorial Film Rewind: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge

I know, I know. I am attempting to ruin your favourite film; don’t kill me. I like it too. It’s every desi’s favourite film. And, well, why shouldn’t it be? It’s over three fucking hours long, and god knows how we love to make up for the short things in our lives with long ass movies.

I have decided to rewind Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

DDLJ opens with a sad shot of fobby store owner London dad Baldev (Amrish Puri) feeding birds while reminiscing about India after having reached the stars in Vilayat.

Oh, and he’s totally trippin’ balls.

While uncle is busy seeing shapes in the sky, let me introduce you to his family.

Meet annoying smartass 12-year-old Chutki, who ideally should have been killed by Paresh Rawal in King Uncle, and max Punjabi mummy jee, Lajjo.

Of course, this family is uninteresting as shit without Simran, the teenage dreamy daughter whose hormones are through the fucking roof and who likes to read out sensual poetry about boys to her mother.

Next, Simran — whose lover has the same existential status as the Flying Spaghetti Monster — is seen getting out of the shower after unspecified activities which lead her to fantasise further about this lad she has been in love with.

Now we get to have a first look at dream boy Raj. In all honesty, brotha looks hella fucking violent.

However, daddy dearest has other plans. He decides to marry her off to a friend’s son, Kuljeet, in India. The family finds a very interesting way of breaking the news to Simran.

Soon Raj (who actually exists, by the way, and is very rich) enters the scene. He goes to Baldev’s store and cheats him into opening the store past closing time just to get some beer, managing to get mad permanent hate in Baldev’s eyes.

Simran, who is absolutely fucking chill with the idea of marrying a total stranger at this point, wants to live her life and seeks her dad’s permission to go to Europe.

But dad is not asshole enough to not let his daughter go on a trip. He’s ONLY asshole enough to raise her in the west and marry her off in India to a complete stranger. He grants her permission to tour Europe with her friends.

Simran and Raj are on the same train (duh, this is an Indian movie. The force is always with love). They finally meet and Raj tries to hit on Simran (duh, this is an Indian movie).

Soon after telling Raj she doesn’t go to parties, Simran meets Raj at (can you guess?) a party of course. He plays the piano impeccably while dancing with Urmila Matondkar clones.

Long story kinda-short, Raj and Simran fall in love because the first step to falling in love is public humiliation. They miss a couple of trains, get drunk, have fun, almost get laid in a barn.

Now I understand this is the 90s, but what the fuck are you wearing, Simran? You look like a Fresh Prince-y Lil’ Kim at a Church.


Simran finally breaks the arranged marriage news to Raj, who is heartbroken… And also like WTF.

The trip is over. Everyone goes home with the realisation that they are in love with each other. It is said that they also took a lot of drugs on the train back home because both of them were seeing each other everywhere for, like, a whole fucking day.

High on love, Simran tells her Ma everything. But both of them have too many goddamned blind spots in each eye because dad is standing right there, 3 feet away from them, listening to the whole conversation. He’s not even hiding behind something. He’s just standing there tall and visible as fuck, but you know what they say, love is blind.

Meanwhile Raj tells his dad all about the girl with questionable fashion choices who he fell in love with in Europe.

Simran has already flown to India where her wedding is being planned. Kuljeet, Simran’s to-be husband, is a complete asshole who kills little wabbits and birdies. :<

Simran is barely surviving the ceremonies and her grandma can tell she’s unhappy, so she decides to ask her son Baldev.

It doesn’t take Raj very long to get to this village he has never heard of.

Raj’s master plan includes befriending Kuljeet, entering the shaadi house and slowly trying to impress Simran’s dad so that he agrees to wed his girl off with him. That sounds like a totally shit plan to be honest. It’s like going to someone else’s birthday party and hoping you will figure out a way to make it your own if you are nice enough to everyone.

He rescues Kuljeet from this one thing and, wouldn’t you know it, they become best friends forever. You need to watch this scene if you have not. For a hunter, Kuljeet has the agility of a fried egg.

Raj lies about setting up a Stroh’s beer factory (mad product placement BTW) in the village and Kuljeet’s fam instantly falls in love with him because money and beer tune in well with us Punjabis. His sister develops a crush on Raj.

But Baldev (Baou Ji) knows wassup… He immediately recognises Raj.

Raj struggles to impress everyone at the house. Apparently, thaalis/trays are excellent props when you’re trying to impress old desis.

It is clear that the family is quite impressed because they want to marry Kuljeet’s sister Preeti to Raj.

By now, the awkward caressing just looks like a fucking family tradition.

So anyway, Raj’s dad (he calls him Pops) decides to come meet him in India and his hat choices appear to be inspired by the cartoon character Strawberry Shortcake.

He accidentally asks the family for Preeti’s hand because he’s incredibly stupid and wears, like, 4 fucking layers of clothing in Punjab’s scorching heat. He’s still in London in his head, I guess. Is this a desi uncle thing? For their heads to be somewhere else?

Anyway so, they try to get things under control while the fam is still celebrating. Everyday is a new family function.

Kuljeet’s sis shows off these complicated-cool dance moves. Watch out, Step Up 5.

Breakin’ your neck like

Pops meets probable future bahu and approves in a minute.

But he’s enjoying his trip because he’s spending a good amount of time hitting on Simran’s older unmarried aunt.

Soon, Simran’s mom Lajjo sees Raj and her secretly meeting (in the fucking open, on the terrace in a shaadi ka ghar, fucking geniuses).

She decides Raj and Simran should run away but Raj has a huge moralistic turd up his ass.

Baou Ji and Raj begin to bond over important things…like wild pigeons and inefficient medicine of the ancients.

But thanks to daadi’s illness, the shaadi is now going to happen a week prior to the set date. Raj’s plans are failing.

His dad tells him there is no way out but to kidnap Simran and flee to London.

With the secret-keeping ability of a cornflake, Simran leaves a picture of Raj and herself from the Europe vacation near an open window. The photograph flies away and finds itself in the hands of Mogambo Baou Ji.

Raj realises nothing will work. On the day of the wedding, he decides to leave but on his way out, this happens…

It doesn’t end here. Baou Ji basically goes fucking Ehonda on Raj. Heck, even kind of looks the part.

Hundred Hand Slap attack later, Raj proceeds to apologise to everyone and then leaves for the train station.

Sorry is not enough. It is time for some action. Kuljeet and his goons grab the most threatening weapons in all of India (wooden sticks) and start beating Raj up at the station.

I told you Daddy Shortcake was nothing but a liability.

Anyway, so in like 4 minutes, everyone from the Haveli shows up. Girlses, boyses, uncles, aunties. Everyone.

Raj and his dad get on the train which is just in time because everyone just got done throwing up blood and breaking bones. The family stays there and watches because you have to walk your guests outside; it’s a desi tradition. We fucking love tradition, okay?

Simran begs Baou Ji to let her go but Baou Ji is the kind of man who even holds his farts in because he has the authority to — talk about letting a whole person out.

And just like that, we see the perfect Hindi film ending.

The train is the actual hero in DDLJ.

(Shhh. I adore this movie)


Twitter: @SheikhImaan
Facebook: Imaan Say
Email: contactimaan@gmail.com

10 Relatable-Reactive 90’s Bollywood Film GIFs

I had to make these. Like, it was mandatory.



Straightening out when your dad walks in like

Chachi 420



Leaving your sibling out of all the fun like

Andaz Apna Apna



Asking your ma for money like

Raja Babu



Speed-cleaning your room before mom arrives like

Chachi 420



Never leaving the house because this always happens like

Raja Babu



Having to tell someone off gracefully like




Stalking your crush on Facebook like




Welcoming the weekend like




Not giving a fuck like

Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar



Having to smile at someone you absolutely fucking loathe like

Andaz Apna Apna



Twitter: @SheikhImaan 
Facebook: Imaan Say 
Email: contactimaan@gmail.com

Advertising: Tips for making Pakistani television commercials

If you plan on pursuing a career in advertising in the country, there are a few golden tips none of the pros are going to teach you. As an expert in couchpotatership, I have spent quite some time in front of the telly and have been generous enough to list down these tips. They mainly apply to television commercials, however, you are free to use them anywhere.

I wish you a fruitful career in the world of advertising. You’re welcome.

1. Go to ridiculous lengths

So you say you’re really creative and you probably have some fresh concepts for your ads, but they are deemed mediocre. Why?

Shock factor.

Go Ripley’s Believe It Or Not on this shit. Do something you should not do. No one should. Ever. Shock your viewer.

Unfortunately, since you cannot fall at the feet of every potential consumer and beg them to buy your wares, show people what lengths you are willing to go to just to have them purchase your product – in your TVC.

You can learn a thing or two from Harpic ads.

Nothing says “HEY LOOK AT ME LOOK LOOK MOM BUY THIS HEY HEY LOOK BUY THIS” like rubbing your hand on the inside of a toilet bowl and making a ‘squeaky clean’ sound.

“Hey! It was coated in remnants of ancient faeces and urine two seconds ago! Well whaddya know, just give me some fish and chips so I can eat them right off this bowl because it’s just that clean! I just finished fisting it!”

I won’t add a screenshot but you know well and good what I’m talking about.

If you are super passionate about your work, have your model lick her fingers afterwards as it will give your potential customer that WTF-my-dinner-is-ruined senti-punch you have always dreamed of.

What would make a better example to follow than the series of Harpic ads featuring Pakistani actor, morning show host, certified shithole archaeologist and expert turd-whisperer Faisal Qureshi.

This is the kind of guy you want to hire. His unnerving enthusiasm for toilet activism is only matched by the stupidity of women who open doors for a stranger in a blue hat.

He can make this simple-minded woman do anything and he knows it.

The Indian variant of this commercial features actor Hussain.

Rare things are as eye-opening as comparing one’s ability to touch their nose with their tongue to getting Harpic to reach the shittiest spots in your toilet bowl. Now would be a nice time to take notes.

2. The Way of the Sloppy

Say you are advertising for chocolate. Do you have any ideas? How about a nice glistening bar of chocolate — smooth blocks of dark chocolatey goodness being slowly unwrapped. Maybe a gorgeous model biting into the bar sensually? Or one of those shaadi-mahoorat based ads? Or, hey, what about one person gifting another a bar of chocolate to make their day?

Sounds fresh? You fail.

Have you not learned a thing from India? Where is the dirtysexymacarena factor? No one wants to see a solid bar of chocolate anymore, grandpa, get out of the 50s. That stuff is obsolete.

If, god forbid, you are advertising for chocolate — and I would like to thank Indians for introducing this idea — make sure the models in the TVC eat chocolate as sloppily as physically possible. It is best to melt a pound of chocolate in the microwave and slap your model’s face right into it. That’s what I want to see.

Watch and learn.

This works for ketchup ads as well, where it is a must to smear the sauce on the entire lower half of at least one child’s face to make a great impression.

If hiring unbearably ill-mannered eaters does not drive the point home, I don’t know what will. Luckily, the geniuses at Cadbury have given us some impressive fresh ideas with the new Bubbly commercial, where everything — from chocolate to bookshelves to laptops — is bubbling like festering skin… Mmmm irresistible! I’m so glad this came out of Pakistan!

3. Criteria for casting children

Need I even explain? Kids are idiots, that’s what makes them so great. Everyone loves little idiots.

If you are casting children in your commercial, keep in mind the following points:

a) They should either be unsurpassably stupid, or better yet, know how to fake looking dumb impeccably.

b) The best combination is when a child looks like a taxpaying 30-year-old little person, but acts like he still calls water “mumum“. Here’s a good example of the kind of look you want to go for.

That face… Don’t you want to send this boy to a boarding school in Pondicherry immediately? I know I do.

c) At age six, the perfect TVC child should not be aware of the difference between his flesh-&-bone body and a big plastic-metal laundry-doing device. HOWEVER — and this is important — he should know the mechanism washing machines use to spin clothes inside and that clothes need to be soaked first.

That’s the little guy you want to pay for being an insufferable moron while selling your product. An Indian ad, which I’ve been seeing on Pakistani channels a lot lately, taught me this. It works. 

4. Detergent:

Only women clean. End of discussion.

My brother lived alone for a few years. Do you think he used washing powder? LOL, no. Magical blue fairies descend from the sky in the wee hours of the night and do men’s laundry. They also bathe them sometimes.

Why do you marry? Laundry wife.
Why does your mum want a bahu? Laundry bahu.
What keeps your izzat alive in the village? Well done laundry wife.
What is stopping you from topping exams in school? Dirty uniform – bad laundry mum.
Why do you suck on sports day? You guessed it — your good-for-nothing mum who can’t do the laundry.

God forbid do we ever want to introduce the idea of men doing the laundry! Steer absolutely clear of this satanic notion. Only feature women doing any work in your detergent ads.

5. Biscuits, crisps and other eatables:

Keyword: foodgasm

Unless you are able to bring the hidden Shahida Mini out of your model at the bite of a cookie, you are useless. Channel something PEMRA would think twice before running. Sex sells but this-cookie-tastes-better-than-sex sells better.

If you give the consumer this SOOPER SEXY food face:

They will be excited about your product:


Don’t forget to include some song and dance here and there. You can’t depend on concept, you know. Let the thumkas make up for your mediocre chhota kaarkhaana-grade cookies or chips.

6. Telecommunication services:

There are a few ways you can go about with this…

Watch at least ten Bollywood college life films so that you are able to beat the dosti-yaari-love-friendship-dancing-romance concept down to a mush in your commercial. Nothing appeals to young consumers like a bunch of teenagers pulling a Highschool Musical moment randomly.

For older consumers, fit in emotional scenes which you can pick from this nifty list:

– Grandpa reciting the azaan for newborn grandson on the phone
– Daughter’s rukhsati (also a surefire mattress TVC winner)
– Poor village man transferring funds via mobile phone
– Poor village man educating annoying son via mobile internet
– Poor village man phoning rich relative in America
– Filmstar Shan
– (skinny) Faisal Qureshi, Mikaal Zulfikar, Adeel Hashmi trio doing anything.

7. Exploiting religion:

People LOVE religion. It sells like nothing else, look at Amir Liaquat, the merchant of Islam.

This technique works for all products. And if it’s Ramadan, forget about it! You’ll be drowning in so much green, they’ll call you a madni munna. I’ll show you how.

• Ghee/oil: Family dressed in white, having dinner, children in skull caps, grandma has a rosary in hand, mommy wearing a dupatta on her head.
• Telecommunication: Azaan sounds, Ramadan packages (trust me they aren’t doing you a favour), Masjid shots
• Chocolate/candy: Chocolate is the new mithaai – concept can be used on Eid or in Ramadan
• Milk/tea: Great recyclable iftaar scene
• Anything else: Rich clean Muslim helping poor dirty Muslim using <whatever product you’re selling> A real tearjerker.

8. Real Estate:

The goal is to do your absolute worst.

Normally, a newly married couple shifting into a ‘home sweet home’ does the trick. I don’t even think there are more examples. Don’t forget to vibe to a song which should make no more lyrical sense than a frozen aalu samosa. The badly made-up actress should be doing some awkward romantic twirling in her 500-rupee outfit while the husband acts naughty, doing the Shah Rukh Khan brows and pointing into the distance for some reason.

Your song should essentially be based on two words — “ghar” and “sapna”.

You will also need a narrator who has a deep, intense voice and is old as Jesus. He should be able to say the following words impressively:

Lugjree apartmints
VIP area
Bachon ke liye park

8. Beauty products

Hiring already-freaking-gorgeous women is key.

Pretty much all beauty products you will have to sell will be fairness creams.

If your budget allows you to do so, hire a Caucasian model at once. What better way to appeal to brown South Asian women than to use a model from a completely different ethnicity? You may settle for an Asian as well.

I have no idea what I’m doing

An already fair-skinned model is best, because you can just spray on some splotchy tan on her face which looks completely unnatural. Or better yet, put a grey filter on her – save time.

Don’t forget to focus on informing women how their master’s degree, confidence, talent or personality don’t really matter. Men will not look at them and they will never land a good job with dark skin.

It’s the only ‘fair’ thing to do, riiight? #punpunpunpunpun

9. Antiseptic soap:

Sort out your own concepts and ideas but there are three things you absolutely need in your commercial.

Number one, a mother with a sneezing, belly-aching little son.

Number two, a condescending doctor who is actually just regular dude with glasses. He should look something like this.

This man must be conservative and condescending or no one will buy shit. He should be a bully and ask questions like:

“LOL does your kid even bathe?”
“Bro, do you even know what H1N1 is?”
“Oh, what brings you to the clinic again, sick little shit? Bet you’re going to die in like 46 yrs.”
“Oh, a fever? So what’s going to happen to you next? Homosexuality or atheism?”

Number two, you should have this bullshit germ-detecting device which no common physician in Pakistan has, but no one ever will question.

10. Cola/soda:

Cricketers. Period. They’ll buy it.

And we’re done!

Thank you for taking this small course in advertising. Feel free to leave your own advertising tips in the comments section. I wish you an excellent career in putting together overdone scripts and copied ideas for money. Good luck!

Twitter: @SheikhImaan 
Facebook: Imaan Say 
Email: contactimaan@gmail.com

Jai Ho: A detailed pictorial summary of an incredibly shitty movie

Since I like helping people, I have pledged to invest time and money into watching terrible movies so I can warn others not to.

I went to watch Jai Ho last night.

Jai Ho is an excellent compilation of action sequences. Film critics claim that there is a plot somewhere in there too which I failed to see because I’m new to this. They say it’s the remake of a Telugu movie called Stalin, but at max it is a compilation of fight scenes and every early 90’s movie cliché ever.

If Dhoom 3 gave you a headache, Jai Ho is capable of giving you a highly malignant brain tumour because the former was one long lame story, but Jai Ho is a clusterfuck of too many little stories stuffed into a sorry excuse for a movie.

It all starts in a nightclub where bad music is playing, butts are swinging, and some chick is getting roofied by a bunch of ugly guys.

A girl calls the police and some feisty cops show up, who don’t squander the chance of grinding against some sexy nightclubbin’ babes before they attend to the problem at hand. Credits are rolling throughout the song.

But then something comes up that reminds me that getting through this film will be a punishment more than a challenge……

It is too late now…

So anyway, not to my surprise, those cops never arrested the potential rapists, who arrived the next day to kidnap the girl. The policewallahs even gave them the girl’s address because sharing is caring.

Here we also meet Crazy Aunty who is thrilled by the idea of being abducted by rich lads.

She lets the girl get kidnapped with a smile on her face because the abductors’ biggest nightmares is just a phone call away.

Enter ex-army officer, slow learner and brave rabies sufferer… Jai!

He smashes their car’s bonnet in with a bare fist and beats them black and blue in a long action sequence (which is only the beginning of more long action sequences).

Oh yeah, he bites.

After kicking an unbelievable amount of ass and feeding on human arms, it’s time to dance of course! Jai is joined by a surprise dhol band and surprise break dancers/cheerleaders. They all break into a very early 2000’s Missy Elliot music video-ish dance, except this song is loaded with socio-economic-political messages about how bad things are in the country. Seriously, dude managed to address to, like, 80% of India’s problems.

A couple of hours later when this song actually ends, we see that the crazy aunty we met earlier is Jai’s mom, who is keen on getting him married (obvious desi mom trait is obvious). However, they are not a very happy family because Jai’s sister, played by Tabu, married a man she loved despite her mother’s intense disapproval.

In fiery vengeance, mommy decides she will at least wed her son off with a girl of her own choice because winning is of prime importance.

Surprise! Another song, introducing dreamy marriage material heroine Rinky.

She’s dancing on a small lakeside stage of sorts.

We discover that this girl is Jai’s sister’s neighbour and that she likes to crack penis jokes with minors, which is not alarming at all. She calls Jai’s nephew Chhota Chooha (go figure) and he calls her Pinky for her pink undies.

Later, a handicapped girl who is friends with Jai and his nephew, gets stuck in trouble. She needs her brother to write her exams as she has no hands, but her brother can’t make it to the venue because a minister’s daughter has held up the traffic.

I refuse to believe any institution would be of no help to a handicapped person pleading for legally okay assistance on her exam. Things might not be so horrible in the real world but instances of extreme injustice, no matter how unrealistic they may seem, must be stuffed into the plot of Jai Ho to make the conclusive justice look ten times better.

The girl kills herself. Yup, no one’s on the third floor and nobody decides to pad the ground or even attempt to save the girl, but everyone is properly organised on the lower floors to cheer her on I guess.

Jai sees her lifeless bloody body on the floor and cries. He promises himself that he will bring justice to the dead girl by fighting the minister’s daughter, whose protocol cost this girl her life. Seriously that’s kind of dumb though, she wasn’t directly involved or anything. Emotionally weak girl commits suicide, that’s her problem. But, hey, fuck that. This is about justice and justice is blind.

Flash forward one minute, Jai saves a kidnapped baby. Yeah things move rather quickly in this film.

The baby’s parents are overjoyed and cannot thank Jai enough. They ask him what they can do to repay him.

With a stroke of genius, Jai gets an incredible idea. He immediately puts his plan on paper and shows everyone.

Here is the official document I managed to get from Salman myself.


The plan is that when someone helps you, you must help three people in return and tell those three people to help three people each and so on.

Jai gets major props for coming up with this idea, almost as if it were a very practical law or something. No, they haven’t assumed that there are people like me, who will just say thanks and go watch a movie or something and forget/not give a shit about helping three people to keep the chain going.

Ever received one of those chain text messages/emails that tell you to forward them to 9 people “or God will be angry/you will die on Wednesday”? That shit is hella annoying and so are you, Jai. Have you not considered assholes like me who won’t help three people in return?

Now, every time someone helps someone throughout the movie, this shit is reiterated. I managed to suppress a few WTFs in the cinema but it wasn’t long before I could hear everyone else loudly saying “Shut uppp” “Come onnn” and “KYA BAKWAAS HAI”. That shit just got sickening. But the point still stands because here I am warning you guys to not waste your time watching Jai Ho. No, no, don’t thank me. Just help three people by guiding them away from this steamy, action-packed puddle of diarrhoea of a film.

Anyway, Jai’s sister tells gulaabi chaddi (Rinky) about how he was wrongfully suspended from the military. She immediately falls in love with him because, you know what they say, chicks with pink chaddies are easy.

This is followed by a song, which is Rinky’s daydreamgasm about being a military man’s wifey. She’s more or less a small accessory in the film, really. You know, like a pink charm hanging from a cellphone? Yeah.

On we go, and Jai helps another damsel in distress who is being harassed by her doctor. What happens then? You guessed it.

I don’t understand how he’s taken it upon himself to physically fucking beat people committing crimes. He isn’t a cop. He isn’t someone’s bodyguard. He’s just a dude with an army background who likes violence. We all have an army uncle like Jai, #donthate.

A few days later, minister sahab’s henchmen come to threaten Jai and his family at Wonderland, because nothing says fucking scary like a kids’ play area.

This is when we discover that Jai, along with being clinically fucking insane, also possesses superhuman powers. He manhandles ten henchmen alone. This action sequence involves not just punching and kicking but bitch-like biting and clawing.

How do you explain crashing open thick glass and wooden doors?

He follows the head henchman to the minister’s house where he stabs dudes with a pen because the pen is mightier than the fucking hockey sticks six of these guys are brandishing.

Seriously, what the fuck kind of henchmen have no guns? Where the hell are the guns? What is this, a Home Alone sequel, where all the bad guys are incredibly stupid?

And yay! The guns come out! But it’s not the minister’s guards or anything, it’s cops. They point the gun at Jai and his bitch fit comes to a halt in the blink of an eye.

Jai is put behind bars but the minister’s son-in-law comes to bail him out so he and his men can beat up Jai. They bring hockey sticks because cricket is too mainstream.

Our hero has received a number of proper fatal blows against glass, metal and concrete at his brawl at Wonderland AND his beat-up session post bail with minimal scarring. Every hockey stick in a 100km radius shattered against his head with no or little damage to him. How? Even my zits leave bigger scars than that papercut of a fucking wound on his brow.

After a good beating, Jai gets up growling like the wild animal that he is. His animalistic roar is enough to make the scores of professional henchmen around him flee in fear. He wreaks havoc, beating minister ji’s son-in-law to a mush.

This is why a good Human Resource Management department is so important. You do not want to hire incompetent people like minister sahab’s bad boys.

Later, Jai is out on a date with Rinky and his nephew cockblocks him, resulting in an overly sappy love song for some reason.

If you watch the movie, you’ll notice that this nephew has been terribly brought up and doesn’t know how to talk to his elders. I would have made this annoying little turd stand in the corner facing the wall for at least five hours.

So anyway, minister sahab attacks again and this time it’s Jai’s mom, who survives after her shunned son-in-law gives her his kidney. They are reunited in a typical early 90’s Hindi film happy family reunion way.

Upon his sister’s insistence, Jai apologises to the minister for beating up his son-in-law, but is easily agitated and ends up punching and kicking shit again. Needless to say, there is still no real security at the minister’s office. Tables are broken and daamaad ji’s ass is repeatedly kicked, whilst henchmen stand in the background chillin’.

This humiliation is too much, so the minister’s son-in-law attempts to abduct nephew Kabeer, completely ignoring the fact that Jai is the hero in this movie and will obviously fucking slay him because Bollywood.

This man has no regard for a child’s safety. He missed him by a hair.

Shit is bad. The Chief Minister (who happens to be a good guy) gets involved. He holds a meeting with Jai and the home minister.

Evil minister wants to kill the CM, blame it on Jai and become the next CM – bad idea. Too many damn goals in one go, man. Your ass is history because guess who just smashed another door…

He manages to save the mukhyamantri.

The next day the home minister declares Jai mentally unstable on TV and claims that he kidnapped the CM.

One of those things is correct.

Jai is located and henchmen are sent after him once again. They are many in number but fail in front of Jai because, at this point, I don’t even care why and how. He gets shot in the pec though, by a cop (ABOUT TIME).

Jai flees (duh) and gets into a fight with the home minister’s evil son. He even makes the guy accidentally stab his sister to death, then stabs him in the heart! If that isn’t the most metal thing ever, I don’t know what is.

The CM gets better and tells the world the truth, no complications involved. Dude killed a few people and took the law in his hands, but IT OKEI LOL.

This film should have been called “Jai, No!” for obvious reasons.

Morals of the story:

1. No matter what a feral bastard you turn into, the end justifies the means.

2. It is okay to take the law in your hands.

3. If countrymen are chill with things, all is okay.

4. Never trust your military maamu.

5. “Gando” (not to be confused with Hindi/Urdu swearword) means ‘crazy’ in Gujarati. However, both are valid if you’re using them for Sohail Khan.

6. Forward this to three people, you will get kissed tonight by the love of your life, if you don’t do it, a dead girl called Katie will appear under your bed.

If you made it through the entire film, apki Jai Ho.