Veni, Vidi, Visa...

Once in a while people seek our help to get a visa to India. Sometimes it is difficult to ignore such requests because visa-seekers have been referred by senior colleagues or predecessor/s.

We entertained one of our first requests right after we moved here. The man was known to a colleague and needed a medical visa for his wife, an ex-Indian. The man walked into our house with six bottles of Coke and Sprite each. I ignored the bottles thinking it was summer and that he needed to quench his thirst on his way back to Lahore, his hometown.  

He had just given his "interview" to the Bhais and didn't look very comfortable. He briefed his case quickly to my husband and was ready to leave -- minus the bottles. "These are for you sister!" he announced and walked out. 

We were angry -- because we felt so bribed. 

Months later he dropped by again this time with his wife to say his thank-yous. The husband and wife came in with several large plastic carry bags. The wife said I was like her "behan" and that she had shopped for me in India. We were horrified. We told them we could not accept the "gifts". 

"Can't I give something to my sister?" she pleaded teary-eyed. We agreed to keep the "gifts" on the condition that the couple would never "shop" for us again. As we passed the plastic packets to our help we realised that she would not have to shop for soaps, toothpastes, shampoos, detergents etc etc for at least one full year!

Another visa-applicant, known to our predecessor, sent us a Rs 500 note to cover the charges we would have to incur when we couriered his passport back.  

These, however, are simpletons who mean well. The smart ones, usually frequent travellers to India, make those smart calls to meet us requesting us to introduce them to officials in the high commission and once the introductions have been made they look through us. A colourful fashion designer of some repute had no memory of me when I bumped into him at a recent dinner.  

And then there are those who remain friends till the time their visas are being granted -- once, twice... However, if their visa applications are rejected on some ground at a later date they not only snap ties but also make sure we get to hear an earful.

This, too, is Pakistan...

Tapu Javeri, Pakistan's fashion photographer and Radio Jockey, shot this video earlier this year. "I Love Karachi & its people. Duck Sauce inspired me to make this video & its all about people of Karachi.....Thanks to all the lovely people of my city, without your support this project was impossible... ...Love, Peace, Happiness," says Javeri, who also features in the video.

The Bhai files...

Tell me NOW!

With the Bhai brigade or their chamchas keeping a close tab on our visitors, especially the Pakistani variety, sometimes we get to hear strange accounts of what transpired between the two parties during the “interview” outside our gate.

The accounts of our friends almost always match centering on two questions: a) who are you; b) how do you know them? Aware of their no-panga policy our friends usually “cooperate” with the Bhais and are let off easily.

Sometimes the “interview” with the Bhais gets long and messy. A couple of years ago an ex-help got into trouble with the Bhais because he refused to “cooperate”. The help obviously had no clue about Bhaigiri.

“We are here to make sure they do not do anything wrong,” said one of the Bhais when our help sought their introduction. The help replied: “I am there to stop them from doing any wrong” – and that did him in. With time the help learnt to deal with the Bhais and we would often spot him chit-chatting with his new-found friends.

Some other helps have been more cautious. Some time ago, our maid asked me about a visitor. “Is she Pakistani or Indian?” My look must have said it all because she quickly added, “I asked because she spoke English differently.” Another time she was itching to know if our dinner guests would be Indian or Pakistani. Her explanation was obviously lame: “If they are Indian I would serve them in bowls!!??”

Occasionally accounts of the encounter with Bhais are exaggerated. I am told that for some it is a status symbol to be stopped and followed by Bhais. Some examples:

I said I knew his boss. He let me past.

He said sorry for stopping me.

He said salam to me.

Knows my dad/uncle/etc is a cop/politician/etc.

I sped away and he could never catch up.

I slipped someone else’s visiting card in his hand and fooled him.

Last month, I heard someone being slapped outside our gate after a heated argument. I could hear Bhai shouting. He wanted to see the man's  (I wish I knew who it was) ID card. The man refused and Bhai started slapping him.

However, the saddest cases are when good friends are forced to sever ties because Bhaigiri is so disgusting.

Pakistan's party people....

A lot of us Indians continue to live with our many stereotypes of Pakistan and Pakistanis (Are women allowed to step out in Pakistan??!! Oh! You don't wear the burqa there??!!), much as Pakistanis continue to live with their many stereotypes of India and Indians (Are there mosques in India??!! What! Muslims are not treated unfairly??!!)  

Here are a few pictures of Pakistan's party people from Daily Times' Sunday Magazine to show that there is life beyond burqas and beards. I must admit that some of the Page 3 pictures in the weekend magazines shook me too when we got here. But I learnt early that not all hijabis are jihadis and not all jihadis are hijabis! 

Ali Zafar celebrating the success of his film.  

Freiha Altaf (in yellow) is a Page 3 fave.  

A birthday extravaganza.

The bold and beautiful at an event.

Halloween in Pakistan...

Youngsters at a Halloween party in Peshawar (pic: Shabbir Imam)

Hush-hush Halloween parties have been a norm in Pakistan, but a big first was added two days ago when the event was celebrated in Peshawar -- where it feels like Halloween every other day.

More on Peshawar's Halloween night here:
http://tribune.com.pk/story/286418/halloween-celebrations-no-militants-involved-in-peshawars-night-of-horror/