Read other ARTICLES by the author to find out why he is banned on Chowq's front page
Dear CCC members and Roam-ans who would not lend me their ears:
Allow me to tell you how embarrassed I felt reading all those ‘Dear Tahir’ i-logs published in Chowq, and then not responding despite repeated appeals. Such affectionate i-logs are contrary to Chowq traditions but it gladdened my heart to see these traditions broken—although some stuffed heads might have benefitted more from such purposeful damage.
Someone did ask, ‘What is CCC?’ It is an acronym for Chowq Cheering Club, which I invented when I noticed that I was not the only one reading what I wrote. Its sole purpose was to cheer me up into writing more for the few who could really read. From such humble beginnings, the CCC went on to have the hallowed office of Madam President, presently occupied by Mont Blanc Alps. Soon afterwards, fans began to give themselves miraculous births.
In addition to managing her own toddlers at home, Madam President managed all the babus and babes at Chowq quite well. Leave aside a raise, she never asked for a salary. She stood up for me in a way that put most men to shame. Now, for reasons best known to her alone, she has chosen to transfer herself from the pedestal to the ceiling, and from where she says she will continue to send a gentle breeze towards my writing table.
Speaking of men, even my most vocal supporter, Fouz, was unable to shake the adamant monkeys off the Chowq tree. What matters to me is that he tried. Some day someone will write for him an i-log full of praise and then he will ‘shake this world’ to the core. Until then we must all wait.
Then Mariposa (Meher) turned up and began to do what she does best: write endearing ‘Dear Tahir’ i-logs at Chowq. She suffered but was generously rewarded by the CCC—in fact, so generously that recently Madam President, through a hurriedly posted i-log, decided to hand over the command of the CCC Starship to her but which Mariposa declined to accept. I believe that Mariposa comes from a good family and will one day have a great family of her own. She is truly a hopeless romantic, an HR person who sometimes deletes her i-logs only because I do not sign her visitors’ book! She has the potential to make any wife jealous of her husband’s literary activities.
Then the season changed and July came along. Ya Hussein! She suffered the bans, and was able to deliver. July was the one who informed all of us about that Press Trust of India article on me—appropriately written on 22 July 2009. Now who can forget such revolutionary fans? As of this writing, I fear that July is down with PMS blues—by PMS I do not mean ‘premenstrual syndrome’ but rather post-monsoon symptoms.
My Chowq Message Centre is sometimes so full of messages I cannot read them all, leave alone answer everyone. You are many and I am just one; I cannot answer everybody but I wish I could. Although not replying is not my style, I am afraid that some of you are in love with the lines rather than what is written between them. When I asked a fan as to what kind of a fan she really was, she answered, ‘the moving kind’. I was suddenly quite moved. Then she asked, ‘What kind of a regulator do you have that enables you to manage so many fans simultaneously?’ Now what could I do except maintain silence?
Indeed ‘popularity is glory's small change’ but I have other things to do besides helping Chowq generate more clicks and hence more revenue. For instance, helping the poor masses get hold of cheap flour, promoting democracy without Mrikan aid, and finding ways of squeezing more Watts from my UPS (uninterruptible power supply) are some of my greatest passions in life.
The CCC promoted only one thing; it increased the readers’ stamina for the forbidden pleasure of reading my i-logs. I have no idea how those who were able to read my articles improved their lives; I am afraid some of them might have turned into model citizens.
I adore all those who love me without ever having met or spoken to me. ‘The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved.’, and this is what life is all about.
But where are all the CCC-ites now?
Fouz might be busy collecting tax, thinking that this method alone will change the country and the people he loves so much.
Bhs75 (Bilal) is surely launching imaginary spaceships in the general direction of a planet called MARRIAGE. One of these days, one of his missions will succeed.
In these economically depressed times, Delirium (Adnan) might be thinking of ways to enhance the TOTAL sale of petroleum products.
I can see Leenah listening to more Nayyara Nur and writing invisible i-logs that can now be perceived by only one person amongst us. Now that is success.
Mr Asadi—having acknowledged my ‘ingenious strategy’ at Chowq—continues to thrash dead persons connected with Pakistan’s creation, airing what he airs best, and then—as a reward—getting banned for twenty-four hours that last for just fifteen Chowq days.
Goonga—finally having found a voice—might be out there learning the alphabets to impress the Chowq ed-eators.
Finally, better late than never Zeemax—my supporter from the ‘Indu-Mulim riot days’ at Chowq—could be busy doing things he will not talk about.
There are those with whom I interacted but they did not with me. I think they love themselves too much, leaving no room for others to feel the same way about them. Interestingly, those who live across the Wahga border are also very silent. Many of them who wrestled unnecessarily with me over Islamic issues on Chowq’a front-page are permanently silent. On that count, my mission stands accomplished. All praise is due to God alone.
To the fans who are fasting, I wish them peace in Ramadan. I will not parody Indian songs to PG-18 level anymore because Chowq Stuffed has NOT apologized to me for their mistreatment. Besides, what would the souls of the dead Indian artists say? The Press Trust of India was kind to me the very first time, but it may not be so every time.
For the men, I have a quote from Victor Hugo, the French writer: ‘Imagination is intelligence with an erection.’
For the ladies too I have something from Victor Hugo: ‘A compliment is something like a kiss through a veil.’
This is not the end because old Victor also said: ‘Where the telescope ends, the microscope begins. Which of the two has the grander view?’
Please convey my regards to your ‘bay-ghamm’ begums and forever-watchful husbands, and give my love to your children.