Food Diaries: Pizza

20170721_163158I love Pizza. It’s my favourite food after Singaporean Rice. However, I have never tried making it. Because I love Pizza Hut. And I don’t like depriving other people of their livelihood. This past week, I ate homemade Pizza and absolutely hated it. The base was super thick and ketchup was used as a tomato sauce. Something clicked and I decided to try my hand at it. Continue reading “Food Diaries: Pizza”


This Society And Its Cruelness

There was a death in the city three days ago.

An aunty very dear to us, had the misfortune of losing her husband. He was in the hospital the past 1 and a half month, really sick, not being able to cope with pain but he was breathing, alive. 
I have seen that aunty go about her day, working selflessly for others. When she got married, her husband had a whole family to support, so she spend her years, cutting down her needs, educating and then marrying her husbands siblings. By that time, her own kids were grown up, so there studies became a priority. After that came marriages and finally after all these years, she was free. 
The time had come for her to sit back and relax. 
But destiny had something else in mind. 
Word gets around very fast. Its twisted like a piece of twine. Some of the things I heard were down right cruel. 
“See, his sons are Hafiz-e-Quran. But when I asked him to read Quran to his father, he put it on a mobile instead of reading it out loud himself.”
“We went to their house to pay our respects and his daughters did not even come out of there rooms.”
“I was sitting there for half an hour and I was not asked for water. Back home, we are served tea, samosas, biscuits etc.”
“All of there kids are so rude. What was the use of their parents sacrificing so much for such selfish kids ?”

“At least my kids are not like this. If I die, they will arrange for catering and make sure no one goes hungry from our house.”

“Ali Sahab and his wife were religious but their kids were not at all. They cared too much about worldly things.”

“Parents need to focus more on their kids upbringing. Ali Sahab should have paid attention to his kids religious education.”

“His eldest daughter was not even crying. Instead of tears dripping down her face, she was looking after her own daughter.”

“Where was their daughter in law’s family ? My neighbour’s daughter told me that no one visited, from their family in these three days.”

This is what is being talked about at a dead man’s funeral.

Yes, they are praying for his forgiveness in the next world, for him to be awarded Jannah, reciting Quran and Darood Shareef for hours. But when they go back to their homes, this is what they talk about. Apparently, this was more important then that man’s funeral.

So the next time, someone dies near to us. We need to forget our own grief and cater to the people around us. We need to make sure that they get tea, biscuits, eat Biryani, Qorma, Karahi and then Gajar ka Halwa for dessert. Then spread quilts filled with bird feathers, under them so they sit in the most comfortable way possible. We should assist them in every way so they go home and talk about some other nonsense.

You would expect that our society would leave you alone when a person you dearly loved, dies.

But no ! Not even death can put scotch tape on their mouths.

Lord knows what truly can. 

I Am Not Desi Anymore

In my mind, I am immune to being sick in Pakistan. I am not one of those people who get sick because of the change in atmosphere or water. I am also immune to all kinds of “Gol Gappy”, ” Dahi Ballay”, “chaat” etc of road side stalls and “Thelas”. I have always been VERY proud of this fact.

I love to brag it out to my friends, saying ooh no, I am a total Desi. Just because I live abroad does not make me an outsider.

This trip proved me wrong on so many levels that now my head is hanging in shame. And I am regretting my decision of eating like a Desi.

2nd day in Pakistan and we went to my cousins house where I ate ” Laddo Peethi”. Than on our numerous shopping adventures, I had “Papri Chaat” and ” Paratha Roll” from Lahori Chatkhara. I also drank Slush which is basically flavoured ice for a drink. Ooh and I forgot to mention the ice cream. And Jalaybiyan, Samosay which were delivered to the house for “Sham ki Chai”. Hot tendors, Nuggets and Chunks of K & Ns graced us with their presence. All this in one week.

So now I have been in bed for the whole day with a tissue box on my right and used tissue pile on my left. My brain is fuzzy and confused not registering what I am reading. I have the full package which includes high fever, flu and the saddest, meanest, most disgusting cough ever heard. Did I mention the headaches ?

The Desi bacha is sick. Who is not so desi anymore. I don’t hate being sick. I just hate not being able to function properly.

So if you want to function properly and have the best travelling experience, than don’t assume that you are fool proof. Do as they say about restraining from road side foods.

I know. I know. It sucks.

But lets be honest. Going to Khaadi with a bundle of tissues in your hand, swaying side by side and feeling like crap is no fun either.

P.S. If you were wondering, I did not refrain from anything. I am still eating and drinking all the crappiest awesome stuff Pakistan has to offer. After all you get this chance very rarely. 


The Story Of Leftovers

This is the story of leftovers in my house. I am sure that this a very big problem in every house. It is a major one in our house. And my dear mommy is always finding new ways to recycle or get rid of leftovers and not waste them. Because well, we cannot eat the same thing twice. Or eat a three day old curry.

Once my mom took out all the leftovers from the fridge and made them into some kind of rice. Honestly, it tasted very, very bad. And I am not kidding. But obviously we could not say that to our mom. So we all ate it with big plastic smiles on our faces and said that it is delicious, etc. But that is just us being nice. When it came to my six year old brother Moawiz, firstly he refused to eat it. But when he was forced to take a bite, he said, “eww, this tastes like shit”. And well, my mom was not pleased.

So now, my mom has found a new way of getting rid of leftovers. Last night, she invited all of my eldest brother Huzaifa’s friends over for dinner. Because believe me, they are always hungry and they eat absolutely everything. So the menu was, “Paaye” (its a famous Lahori dish made with goats legs), “Magaz” (this is goats brain), “Karaylay Qeema” (Bitter gourds and minced meat), “Baingan Ka bhurta” (brinjals), “Seekh Kebab” and some sort of curry. They ate everything and the loved it. Funny thing is that they new they were eating leftovers. So this the new strategy being applied in my house for getting rid of leftovers.

So my sincere thanks to all the boys who ate that food because otherwise I would have to eat them. Thank you !

P.S. Just so you all know, the food was just one day old and was absolutely in no way poisonous. And we do not serve leftovers to our guests.


That One Moment

It was our 2nd year farewell a few days back. And it went perfect. Well, almost perfect. Things seem to shake up a little bit when we as in me and my friends are the ones doing everything. I guess its the way we work or the ideas we materialise.

Me and Muteeba had decided to do Spoken Word Poetry inspired by Sarah Kay. Honestly, we have never done anything together. Never. Ever. In the past six years that we have been friends, we have taken a lot of sides, fought fights, stood up for people, done things but never really done anything for ourselves. Just the two of us against the world. Or something. We never had a chance and we never made one. So we thought that we should perfect a moment that will portray our friendship for the rest of our lives. And I can proudly say that we succeeded.

Believe me, a confident person like me was about to give up. Because I sucked that much while practising. We had one day to practise it and it was going very bad. Very very bad. But all that did not matter on the stage. I was there with the one person who has truly defined friendship for me. So everything else just vanished. I felt like it was complete. It was perfect. At least for me it was. And I kept thinking that this is the first and last time I am doing this with her. We did it, with the mistakes that only we know, with similes in every sentence and with the friendship that we have shared for so many years. That moment I realise that I had done something right in my life to be blessed with such an amazing friend. That day I was truly grateful for what I have.

I feel like I never really got to beat somebody up for making fun of her or something. I did get to do that for others but never really her. You know, feel your blood rushing to your face for punching someone who had just insulted your best friend. Never really got to do that. Do not get me wrong. We have always had each others back. That is not even for anyone to question. But something was missing and we found that. Because we were on the stage doing a combination of all the things that we love. Words, poetry, books, writing, similes, chocolate, food, horses and most of all friendship. These are just a few. But that one moment was beyond perfect for me.

P.S. Muteeba, if life ever gives me a chance to punch someone for you, I promise I will. Although you would probably have had that person onto his knees by then.