Dear Pindi Boy,

You probably don’t know who I am. I didn’t know who you were either — until I saw you executing a perfect wheelie on Murree Road on August 14. I was struck by your precision and your patriotism: the way you defied both gravity and the law, threw caution to the wind and waved our green and white flag with such pride and joy. And who cares that this flag only really stands for the green folks, right? As long as you can pop a wheelie, it’s just water under the bridge.

I’ve been so smitten that I’ve hardly thought of anything else since then. Even with the incessant load shedding and my phone’s battery at a miserable three percent, I can’t help but scroll through your Facebook profile which is entirely public and has poignant quotes like:


It’s taken me nearly a month to muster up enough courage to contact you. Fortunately my Chaachi’s Bhabhi’s son’s friend had you added on Facebook so I decided to inbox you.

That night, I couldn’t see the stars for myself due to the air pollution in Lahore but I’m sure that they must have been perfectly aligned. I saw you just hours before my departure from Pindi to Lahore. Now all I can think about is sitting on the back of your CD70 motorcycle wearing a suit from the latest Sana Safinaz Silk Safari Collection: my Silk Dupatta flowing with the wind as if we were shooting a campaign for Guddu Shani but the gel in your hair a true marvel of nature, helping your hair completely defy the wind. It’s the stuff dreams are made of.

Since it’s innate for a Lahori to be extremely status conscious I also wanted my partner to drive a Mercedes S Class that he had bought with his father’s dirty money, wear Louis Vuitton loafers without socks, a Ralph Lauren Polo shirt with an oversized logo and belts only from Hermes. But all of that was before I saw you in your wife-beater vest, weighty chains and leather wristlets. It was all so perfectly #basic. And I think even Huda Beauty would be jealous of the natural bronze glow you have from your days of riding a bike-sans helmet- on the pot-holed and jam-packed streets of Pindi.

I even thought of inviting you to Lahore, but ever since Nawaz Sharif has been disposed as the prime minister, our roads are in a terrible state, really, and everything is going to hell here. So I don’t think this city will hold much appeal for you. The only thing here that you might like are the Emporium and Packages Malls which, thankfully, don’t discriminate on the basis of gender and will allow you to enter without an entrance fee.

I feel as though I’m rambling on — us Lahoris are known to be quite the chatterboxes (read: gossips), so I’ll stop here and await your reply. Don’t take too long though. The Rishta Aunties these days have become quite cut-throat and its become increasingly difficult to avoid them. Ever since feminism and women empowerment have been on the rise, their business has been sorely effected. Only last night, my friend told me that at a friend’s wedding, an aunty tried to cajole her into having a sit-down with the maulvi sahab performing the matrimonial ceremony and a so-called eligible bachelor (according to his mother, of course). I might be next. So hurry up.

I’m Punjabi through and through. We shout at the top of our lungs for no apparent reason, love food more than our loved ones and vote for Nawaz Sharif. But for you, I’d support Sheikh Rashid any day. Like they say, a plate of biryani goes a long way.

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you Frandship me?



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *