So, post graduation when life was in full swing and nothing like what I had expected it to be, I decided to go back and teach. I am not teacher material at all. But the first years are given a module by the alumni which is supposed to be teaching with fun. And thats what I decided to be a part of. Once a month going back to collage was comforting. We would do fun things with them. Take them all over the city. Get them acquainted with people and places they wouldn’t get to know otherwise and take them to the cinema to show them what Pakistani cinema was all about. This is the pre cineplex and atrium time.
It was on one of these classes that we took hundred and some students to an art place owned by a very dynamic personality. A personality who dressed up out loud and had a certain aura to him. Let me also clarify that one of the reason I went to teach this course was because the alumni who were instructors were my friends who I loved having conversations with. Conversations that were food for soul. Conversations that were the starting of big ideas and conversations that had the potential to be converted into blogs.
So, it was during this class, that that dynamic personality was also present. Wearing a colourful dhooti, kohl filled eyes and big impressive mustaches. Leaving an impression on all. Post class I was sitting and pondering over something when one of my friends came and sat down to chit chat.
“Kat, how would you feel if your hubby dressed this way?, she asked.
“I would never marry someone who had the potential to dress this way. It makes me feel akward. And no, I have nothing against this guy” I said, very surely.
And life moved on, along with the conversation.
Post 10 years or maybe 11. I am not sure. My hubby decides that he wants a change of look and dhooti is the way to go. He’s gone a step further. He also wants to wear a pagri along with the dhooti. And of course surma.
Where do I go and hide now?
And oh, yeah whoever said karmaa is a bitch, really knows it all.