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

Advertisements

Dhoom 3: A detailed pictorial summary of an incredibly shitty movie

Hey guys, forgive me for starting off a negative note but fuck Dhoom 3.

I have wanted to say that for a bit. Now that I have that off my chest, let me me save you some money by playing Dhoom 3 for you in this blog in pictures and words. Trust me, you’d rather read this than waste your money watching Dhoom 3, which in my humble opinion, should have been named more suitably, like:2

– Bikes And Shit
– Don’t Watch This
– Fuck Logic
– Worst-Year-Ender-Movie
– Stupid Cops

Or simply,

– WARNING: Contains Traces of Bandanna-Sporting Uday Chopra

[SPOILER ALERT! Although if you do decide to watch the movie, you have already chosen a spoiler.]

Let’s go!

So Dhoom 3 opens with a hazel-eyed little boy pawning his possessions for $25 in Chicago (1990).

Little Sahir (baby Aamir Khan) is doing this to save his father’s circus which will be auctioned off by the bank if they don’t have money in time.

Dad (Jackie Shroff) has other plans. He tells Sahir that he will be performing “the greatest trick ever” later that day to impress the bank guys, which will surely woo them so much, they will be forced to let The Great Indian Circus go on.

And so the father and son duo perform the coolest tricks, like, ever…in their dictionary because these were pretty basic tricks.

Seriously, a shitty magician at a kid’s birthday party can do that.

So anyway, the bank guys give their verdict.

“Tumhari aisi ki taisi” (fuck you) says Mr Iqbal, and shoots himself like the true piece of shit for a father he was, leaving brown little Sahir to fend for himself alone in hostile America.

Years later, Sahir is a well-built young man who has not changed at heart and height.

By now, Sahir has turned from a magician’s tricky son into a tricky abnormally skilled thief, who can single-fucking-handedly defy nearly all laws of physics and rob a bank in such style that dollar bills begin to rain on poor people out of all the bank’s windows. All without a ski-mask. (#LifeHack?)

This is followed by a police chase, obviously because 1) it is the second robbery at this bank, and more importantly 2) it is a great chance to stuff in bike stunts. Bikes fuckin’ rule.

Annnd to no one’s surprise, Sahir gets away with it because American cops are just so incompetent. They do, however, notice something strange about the robberies. Both the times, the perpetrator writes something in Hindi on a wall and leaves a circus-y mask.

Meanwhile in India, some goons are harassing what looks like a hanging turd.

We find out that this hanging piece of poop is actually Ali (Uday Chopra), an undercover cop. His friend Jai (Abhishek Bachchan), another equally shit undercover cop, soon comes to his rescue in the most reliable of all vehicles – a rickshaw.

Obviously these guys suck at everything, so after enough stunts have been shot with the rickshaw, Ali goes phata-poster-nikla-hero on us all with a bike.

Wait, what the fuck happened there? Ali literally had Jai’s back two seconds ago, like he was practically BEHIND Jai, but he managed to get a bike from somewhere and break through a billboard to rescue his buddy? Almost like a magic trick. He could very well be Mr Iqbal’s bastard child. Anyway…

So next we see a hot young woman called Victoria receiving Ali and Jai at an airport in Chicago. Obviously, she came on a bike because that is literally the main character of the entire film – a vehicle. Mind you, Ali can’t speak English for shit. He immediately has a crush on Victoria.

WTF are these guys doing in Chicago, you ask? Well, American cops apparently do not know jack shit about a possibly Indian robber. That is why they’ve called these two guys, who have on their professional cop records the use of a fucking rickshaw to save the day.

Ali and Jai will be investigating the bank robberies, you guys!

Meanwhile, Sahir is looking for a female dancer/singer/circus performer who has a nice butt and perky breasts a lot of passion for being in the circus. Enter Aaliya (Katrina Kaif). Sahir tells her that she will be hired if her audition is so impressive that he cannot take his eyes of her.

Obviously Aaliya chooses a very high skill-level act that truly shows her passion for song/dance and the circus. She strips.

The bank robbery investigation team has begun their investigation. For now, they know three things:
1. The robber is an Asian (Indian)
2. “He’s an amateur” (Right, Jai, he only got away with like TWO BANK ROBBERIES)
3. He’s a master of escaping.

Jai tells the bank owner that he hopes the robber strikes again as this will be the perfect chance to catch him. Then, of course, like a responsible cop, Jai goes on to saying on national fucking television that if the robber tries to rob the bank again, it would be a suicide mission.

Oh, and guess who the bank owner is…

14

So anyway, Sahir sees this on the telly, and in an attempt to draw absolutely no suspicious attention to himself, he goes to Jai and says “Main chor hoon” (I am the robber), followed by “LOL JUST KIDDING. I meant I KNOW the guy who committed this crime.”
Jai is a little suspicious now, but Sahir confirms him that he can be trusted.

He tells officer Jai that the robber is his friend and works as a circus performer. This robber stays very quiet and has been nicknamed “Chup Chaap Charlie”. Charlie masters the art of disappearing in one corner and appearing in another and this has got to be him. But no one’s seen his face (right).

Jai welcomes him to the investigation. Fucking idiot.

Sahir is no fool. He has a fucking camera installed in the button of his waistcoat. He’s taking a look at the entire bank from the inside and recording everything. They have laid out blueprints of the bank for him to conveniently memorise.

So on April 1st, Sahir tells the investigation team that he will be busy because come on, guys, it’s April Fool’s Day and he’s a circus guy. He has a show to do. But he warns that Chup Chaap Charlie will commit the bank robbery today, because that would just be so cool for a clown to pull an April 1st prank like that.

And so everyone is on high alert on April Fool’s day when….

The bank is robbed. Cops find a masked Sahir on the roof but he obviously escapes with the click of a button and some cord-work.

There is no real security down there. This guy manages to get off the cord, get on a fucking vehicle (ought to take a couple of minutes) and make a run for it. He is soon chased by tamed chimpanzee Ali, and we see lots of bike action again.

Seriously, guys, Optimus Prime could masturbate to this shit. Too many bikes.

So now, the bike chase comes to a halt on a bridge which is over a lake or something. The bridge opens up, causing Sahir’s bike to gravitate towards the police cars behind him. But you know what he does? He pedals that accelerator and VROOM VROOM VROOM jumps off the bridge into the water.

AND HIS BIKE TRANSFORMS INTO A FUCKING JETBOAT. Is this guy prepared for the Zombie Apocalypse too?

So after what seemed like an eternity of boat chasing, helicopters and cars and stuff, Sahir gets away. But the team predicts that he will be present at The Great Indian Circus today.

Sahir has renovated the shabby circus hall and a grand event is being held.

And guess who else is alive?

Afterparty: The investigation team is sure that Sahir is the robber, but to prove it, they take his shirt off and check for bullet bruises (okay?). They find nothing.

Later, Sahir is seen talking to himself in the mirror, but the mirror’s moving differently.
HE HAS A TWIN! Who also looks slightly mentally challenged and is stammering.

All that magic Dad did? Boy disappears here, reappears there? I’m glad the bank guys called BS on that.

And hello, Sahir, way to taking advantage of your mentally handicapped twin Samar, man! He got shot in the shoulder!
Also, Samar has developed a crush on Aaliya – the female flamingo at the circus.

So anyway, fucking finally, the bank owners tell it to Jai and Ali like it is.

As we all know, for every dismissed/suspended Bollywood cop who does not get back to solving the case unofficially, a kitten is killed. Of course, the guys have not given up and decide to solve the case anyway. Obviously Victoria – their fellow investigator – has decided to join them because she is just that simple-minded.

All I will tell you about this part is that Uday Chopra has been a serious fucking threat to my sanity throughout.

Jai and Ali sneak into the Great Indian Circus building dressed as (I think?) janitors. They find out that Sahir has a double who is only allowed to get out on Sundays; he stays in a “box” for the rest of the week. What kind of a selfish bastard treats his brother like a Pokemon, you ask? Sahir kind of a selfish bastard.

Anyway, on a fine Sunday morning, Jai dresses up as a hungry hobo and befriends Samar, the mentally challenged twin, at a park. And everything about this escalated rather quickly (thank God).

Meanwhile, Sahir is planning another robbery at the last branch of the Western Bank of Chicago. Okayyyy, so this huge ass Western Bank of Chicago has four branches in total… Wow, why the fuck would you even want to ruin these guys? Clearly they are not doing well at all.These bank guys must be piss-poor if they only have four branches in like three decades.

Samar is turned against his brother after his hobo friend finally shaves and pulls this shit:

I still don’t know how the words “Aaliya likes Sahir” did not give birth to one fucking grain of suspicion in Samar’s mind. He never asked how this dude found out about his bro.

And so Samar goes home and insists on performing with Aaliya on stage, because a stripper’s heart is made of gold and he wants to win it.

Unexpectedly, Samar’s performance goes very well.

And by the end of the act, Aaliya (who thinks she’s dancing with Sahir) lovingly says, “Tum toh pooray paagal ho, boss.”

AWWWWKKWWWAAAAARRRRDDDDD (since dude is legit mentally challenged).

She admits there is a spark like never before and asks Samar out. Also, she gives him some awful advice, staying true to her stripper origins.

Aaaannnd the long awaited signature Bollywood brother-rivalry-over-girl begins.

Wow, way to being a bitch, Sahir. He even slapped him a minute later!
Despite the fight, the date plan with Aaliya remains undisturbed.

Behind closed doors, an unwanted investigator, Inspector Jai Shitworth, holds a meeting with bank owner Mr Anderson and tells him about how the robbery is linked to The Great Indian Circus suicide 25 years ago.

Yeah, I don’t think Mr Anderson gives a shit.

On their date, Samar and Aaliya have had a great time. She tells him he has two personalities (one being her boss, and the other this sweet guy). When asked which side of him she likes best, she says something rather prophetic and with dual connotations.

(She doesn’t say this exactly but it’s so fitting. I love Pokemon and puns)

On his way back home, Samar bumps into his hobo friend who reveals that he is actually a cop but willing to help.

But there is a surprise… Samar is actually… SAHIR!

Sahir reveals he had been doing some detective work and found out that Samar was friends with Jai.
No one knows who to trust, everything is questionable. Questions questions questions…

Like how fucking long is this film?
Why did I ever decide to write this piece?
Why did Aamir commit this amazing careericide?
What is in the fridge?
Am I out of flaming hot Cheetos?
Is there a life after death?

While I was caught up with these mysteries, this jaadugar ki nasal Sahir somehow tied up officer Jai to a roller coaster track (wtf) and told him he was off to commit his robbery.

Jai struggles to escape as a roller coaster advances towards him, but just in time, his faithful human-friendly chimpanzee Ali shows up and unties him.

The Jadugar Bros are on their way.

As usual the SWAT team and Jai and Ali are late to the building. Sahir has already made it to the top and has released an extremely toxic gas that is making SWAT guys drop like flies! They have to be carried outside the building immediately.

That’s when Jai sees something…

Wise enough to take their SWAT masks off just a few feet away from the building are Samar and Sahir. They push a button and blow up the building.

Can I just stop and say that mankind has never seen cops as incompetent as Jai and Ali, now known to me as Sack-o-shit 1 and Sack-o-shit 2. Seriously, who hired these guys? I thought cops did well after being dismissed.

This film is not about the sheer genius of magical circus twins… Not at all. It is about the sheer incompetence of two magically shit cops, one of whom is definitely a tropical monkey.

Can you guess what happens next?

BIIIIIKE CHAAAASE!!!!

The twins are literally flying.

Of course, they escape after coming face to face with Jai and Ali, who wasted about 50 seconds making small talk with the twins.

The next morning a SWAT helicopter spots the twins in a mountainous area on top of a bridge. As soon as they speed up their bikes, someone steps out of the helicopter to shake up Samar.

The fear of having finally been caught has, for some strange reason, made Sahir look even more like a leprechaun. (Those ears, that nose?!)

Sahir decides resistance is futile and has a man-to-man conversation with ACP Jai.

He says he will surrender and give Jai evidence against himself stored in a USB too if he lets Samar go.

Needless to say, Jai, the insufferable oaf, makes the deal without checking the contents on the USB. But, anyway…
Samar and Sahir have a last conversation before Sahir surrenders… By which I mean jump off a fucking mountain bridge to kill himself.

Obviously, it cannot end like this.

OH NO THEY WON’T DO WHAT I THI–

So, guys, like I said earlier.. Fuck Dhoom 3.

The Absolute Worst of Pakistani Comedy Ever

When it comes to Pakistani comedy, there aren’t many performers who manage to stimulate the cortex of funny in my brain. The LOL industry is sadly dominated by those who stimulate my fist into throwing a haymaker in their face.

These guys are so horrible that you can watch their shows all alone and still feel extremely embarrassed. Now there are way too many bad comedians than one blog can contain, and I honestly don’t know the names of many, but I would like to share with you how I feel about a few of them. The every-Pakistani-comedian-ever “Tera moo paani ke saanp/Peshawri chappal/Amreekan rhino jaisa hai” joke is capable of making me physically sick and all of the following guys have cracked this joke.

The list I am sharing with you today mainly comprises stand-up comedians and a few actors. I’ve nothing against Urdu comedy in general; I think Anwar Maqsood, Hina Dilpazeer (When she’s not Momo) and Sheikh Rasheed are funny folk. Let’s keep that in mind as we go through this list, shall we?

1. Irfan Malik and Ali Hassan

You may have seen this disastrous duo on Pakistani as well as Indian TV channels. They managed to win an Indian comedy show so they must be great.

Would pay top dollar to punch these guys with rusty iron knuckles on to ensure an infection.

I just don’t happen to see what’s so winningly hilarious about the following joke:

Ali: Mujhe teri mangeiter pe taras ata hai.
Irfan: Kyun?
Ali: Us ne itna puraana samaan pasand kiya
Irfan: Main kya itna puraana hoon?
Ali: Aray tu toh itna puraana hai, pehle dunya mein tu aaya, phir tere peechay kawwa tujhay dhoondta aaya KAAYE KAAYE KAAYE KAAYE KAAYE KAAYE KAAYE *FLAILING ARMS AND JUMPING BECAUSE JOKE*

My reaction: Chirping crickets followed by gut-wrenching embarrassment.

Sidhu Paaji’s reaction: “BUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA WAH, CHAH GAYA TU TOH!”

But it doesn’t stop there. Irfan Malik gets back at Ali Hassan by saying:

“Aray ye toh itna puraana hai, jab dinosaur ghooma kartay thay toh ye unki maalish kiya karta tha” *MOVING ARMS AROUND FOR FUNNY*

Needless to mention, Sidhu Paaji laughed his ass off over this shit.

I’ll have what he’s having. #80sSitcomFunnies

I am 80% sure that Navjot ‘Blazin’ Sidhu is stoned out of his mind when he’s playing judge on comedy shows. No one sober should be able to laugh their lungs out over something like this. It is unnatural and worrying.

Irfan Malik’s special joke is pretending to trip/fall, because let’s face it — what’s more funny than a guy tripping (a few times in every act he ever performs)? #DOOOINK #ROFLALACOPTER

I don’t mean to sound rude but I honestly believe that Irfan Malik and Ali Hassan should choose death as an option. At least they should die in spirit. But, hey, pushing them into a well or running them over with a small tractor won’t kill anyone — just critically injure these guys if everything goes well.

2. Shakeel Siddiqui

Recently re-popularised by his appearance on morning shows — which are a stab in the heart of human intellect anyway — Shakeel Siddiqui is a Karachi-based comedian who does not shy away from cracking perverted jokes at kids’ birthday parties (I’ve been to one), make unfunny attempts of hitting on morning show hosts, and wearing dark glasses inside a studio like a true idiot.

How can you not want to punch this face? Dude is just plain annoying and makes guests on morning shows uncomfortable. I can see as they try to force a laugh but fail with an apologetic look on their face.

3. Barkat and Uzmi

Barkat and Uzmi make another horrible TV duo.

Thankfully these guys are not stand-up comedians (at least I have been fortunate enough to not see their stand-up antics). However, the bad news is that after their piece-of-shit show Halka Na Lo — which I hope not even my sworn enemies come across while changing TV channels — they have been given their own talk show. It’s called The Uzmi Barkat Show.

I won’t go into detail about these guys. Let’s just end on the note that I’m surprised the word “maila” does not translate to “Barkat Ali Siddiqui” on urbandictionary yet.

4. Kashif Khan

Kashif Khan talks really fast. That’s about it. No, guys, seriously, there are no jokes he’s cracked for me to make fun of. Unless, of course, his talking really fast is his idea of a joke?

Hey wait, maybe I can try cracking a meherbaan-qadardaan-ugaaldaan Kashif Khan joke whilst also letting you know a bit about him? Here goes, read it as fast as you can:

Who is Kashif Khan?

AnIdiotWhoTalksReallyFastBecauseHeIsNotReally
FunnyAtAllIMeanSeriouslyGuysWhoTheFuckThinks
ThisIsFunnyItsKindOfOkayOneTimeButDudeMadeIt
ThroughSeveralEntireTVshowsDoingThisShitAnd
AlsoMadeMoneyOffItHowTheFuckIsThisShitFairTo
MyFuckingEarsICannotStandHisVoiceAnyMoreBrain
ExplosionIThinkIShouldStabHimRepeatedlyAtLight
SpeedBecauseThatWouldActuallyBeFunnyAndAGoodDeed.

*BA-DUM-TSS*

Hey, Sidhu Paaji, what do you have to say about THAT, huh?

Haha, really? OMG let me just do this again.

LookAtMeI’mTalkingLikeKashifKhanSoIMustBe
FunnyMaybeHeShouldBeOnAFuckingTalentShow
ButEvenThatWillGetBoringAsHellInLikeFiveMins
IThinkWeShouldHaveLeftTheseAssholesInIndia

So, Sids… Let me know how you like this joke IF you can breathe at all from laughing so hard because that shit was so funny, especially the 46th time.

Hah. Thought so. You fucking maniac, Sidhu.

5. Wali Sheikh:

Let’s start off by just clarifying that I am ashamed of sharing my last name with this man, shall we?

Uncrowned king of comedy because the crown keeps slipping off – no other reason.

Now for the jokes. Buckle up, guys, this man’s a funny one! Here’s an actual Wali Sheikh joke:

*talking about team mate during an act on TV show Comedy Kings*

“Ye toh itna paagal hai, iski ammi ne kaha kuch thanda pila do, is ne usay petrol pila diya!” *obviously followed by hitting his own head because that’s just so funny*

Annnd another one:

“Ye toh itna baywaqoof hai, hum jahaaz mein bethay thay, maine is se kaha air hostess khaana de toh usay paisay dena. Us ne khaana diya toh ye bhai usko 500 rupay denay gaye ke baaji paisay toh le lo!” *DRUM FUCKING ROLL FOLLOWED BY NO PUNCHLINE*

Potential Sidhu Paaji reaction to aforementioned jokes

6. Nabeel:

Dear Nabeel. Hi. You cannot make anyone laugh for shit. Bulbulay is already a terrible show, that’s just my personal opinion. You’re the cherry the on top of a shit sundae, especially because you produced it. And upon that unfortunate fact, you decide to play the main character. The world does not revolve around you, man. The whole breaking-your-voice-to-sound-funny thing? “JaAAaAnUuu!” Yeah, it doesn’t cut it. Also, it’s not just me. Everyone on set fucking hates you, like for real for real.

Just go back to plain old serious guy acting? Pretty please?

7. Aijaz Aslam

Aijaz Aslam is not a very good clothes designer but I forgive him for that. He’s an all right actor, so I guess that’s fine too. But as a comic character, Aijaz Aslam sucks nothing short of unwashed ass. He pulls the same thing Nabeel does — acting cute + weird baby voice + fucking terrifyingly strange body language.

Also, can someone tell me why he does this? [pic below]

What the hell is this posture, is it meant to be funny? Especially when paired with a really stupid voice? Hey come on, let’s try saying something witty for a change instead of sticking out your chest. So unladylike.

Also, you could just stick to designing clothes.

Here ends the list of the worst people in Pakistani comedy I can think of at the moment. Many of them I don’t know the names of.

Honourable mentions: Naseem Vicky, Amanullah, Parvez Siddiqi and obviously Sikandar Sanam – the epitome of fucking terribly lame. But he’s dead now so I guess he was okay, because that’s what happens when people die. They become okay and you can no longer pick jokes at them.

Pakistani women in the Pakistani advertisements world

Yes. The ultimate weapon of the Pakistani woman is a toilet cleaner.

Yes. The ultimate weapon of the Pakistani woman is a toilet cleaner.

Main iske elaava kisi aur pe kabhi aitemaad nahi karsakti. Bhalay aap koi bhi aur lay ayein, main isko nahi chhor sakti. Ye mera partner hai.”

(I cannot trust anyone but him. Bring whatever you can, I would never leave him. He is my partner.)

A woman saying this must really like the person she’s talking about. The statement shows that she trusts him immensely and loves him enough to find him irreplaceable. It seems like they have a strong emotional bond; maybe it’s her husband or a friend she confides in?

Isn’t this what you would ask yourself if you heard a woman speaking of a man with such endearing enthusiasm?

Well, if you did

it to be a beloved, you are sorely mistaken. This lucky, irreplaceable entity is actually not a person at all. It’s a detergent. Hah! Doing better than men, isn’t it? By making such a colossal, largely-documented impact on women all over Pakistan, this detergent has certainly defined the everyday milestones of Pakistani women. Whether it’s about saving face at a social gathering, polishing a dull marital relationship, or ensuring a healthy family life, this detergent does it all!

Oh, and it cleans your clothes, too.

I hope by now you all can guess what I’m talking about; Pakistani television commercials. I have never been crazy about them, to be honest. I’ve always found that we try to sell ‘everything’ through song and dance. Be it achaar (pickle) or real estate, there has to be naach gaana (singing and dancing) and halla gulla (hullabaloo).

Proper conceptualising can go fly a kite.

However, recently, I have noticed a certain pattern in these commercials; projecting all little everyday commodities to be the Pakistani woman’s ultimate achievements. This trend hasn’t emerged recently. It has been in advertisements for a long time ago but it went unnoticed, at least from my eyes. Of course, too much of the same can make people numb.

Now that we are talking about this detergent, might I add that the Pakistani woman’s biggest problem is not being able to get that saalan ka daagh (curry stain) out of her husband’s dress shirt? When her husband’s honour is stained along with his shirt and he raises that you-are-so-dead eyebrow, she will be reminded of her place! Her son’s academic report card can wait; but the ‘minus five’ on his cleanliness report have the ability to quake the earth under her feet.

The Pakistani woman’s ultimate hathyaar (weapon) is a toilet bowl cleaner, and I’m just telling it like it is (on TV). They are shown to be very zealous about something as ordinary as cleaning the pooper. Never have I seen a man in a Pakistani ad worrying about why the surface of his toilet bowl isn’t spotless.

Let’s not forget how important it is to cook. Now I understand that cooking is an undeniably routine part of the Pakistani woman’s life but is cooking perfectly the epitome of her goals? Will adding a little bit of chicken-flavoured masala to her daal really please her mother-in-law to heights so high, she gives her the house keys or promote her to ‘kitchen in-charge’? More importantly, who wants to be in charge of the kitchen, anyway? Silly goose, your mother-in-law is tricking you into hard labour!

Forgive me for not comprehending what choice of milk brands has to do with the empowerment of women and their liberty to choose. I’ve recently noticed a certain milk commercial frequenting television channels. Until the woman in the ad actually stated that it was about a milk brand, I had no clue as to what it was about. It started off as a message about independence of women and their right to make choices and this so-called ‘choice’ was merely picking a brand of milk.

What hogwash! Pakistani women know better than sweating the small stuff. Woman empowerment lies in education. Their freedom of choice is being able to choose a career or a life partner. Their goals and promotions do not involve being in charge of the kitchen. They are mothers, daughters and wives, whose worries include raising good children, doing well in school and helping their husbands run a home.

I don’t understand why Pakistani advertisement makers prefer woman- and susraal (in-laws)-centricity over good, non-sexist ideas. I won’t even begin on skin lightening creams as I feel they are jeering South Asian women’s insecurities at the highest order.

It is really the triumph of misogyny in a society when products start selling on the basis of mocking what we assume to be the inabilities of the socially declared ‘weaker sex’.

This post originally appeared in here.