Wednesday 30 December 2009

From Behind Your (fake) Eyelashes

SEVERE WARNING: Parents who are under twenty-one years of age, must be accompanied by precocious children when reading this.

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The fake romance takes place in a real garden somewhere in occupied Kashmir. The hero wears a tie—a gross violation of the tribal traditions. The girl, dressed in a nice skirt, displays a miniature statue of puberty in her hair, and walks all over barefooted because the local cobbler has not returned her shoes.

This whole bit of creative writing is based on one neat trick: open the video in one browser window and the text in another window, run them side by side (both windows with Chowq in them) and read the running commentary to derive maximum pleasure. Let us see the song now.

Man: What did you say Dolly from behind your (fake) eyelashes?
Woman: My eyes have decorated a (dance)party of my (damp)dreams, you too must gate-crash
Man: What did you say Dolly from behind your (fake) eyelashes?

[A useless garden-chase follows during which nothing happens; the birds mating in the trees are truly embarrassed at the colossal waste of time the humans indulge in.]

Man: (Bring me my) tuba, Tooba (dear)
It was hard to excite my unmentionable bodypart to begin with
It’s (always) such a problem—on top of that—you walk hiding your face in your hairy lot
(Repeat above lines)
Woman: Don’t say things that will make me (and your wife who might be watching us) feel ashamed

[Repeat Chorus]

[The man and woman vanish from view. He lights up his Camel in a country that is not Marlboro country. She comes running to him and ensures he does not get all the puffs alone of that stuff that will take him straight to Nirvana, and snatches the cigarette away. He approves of her stern reaction. They soon reach Murree without their Indian passports and without changing into winter uniforms. So cool is the woman, she is still not wearing any shoes in the snow-covered hills—an amazing feat only achievable once one has had a substantial quantity of Salajeet: an aphrodisiac that grows in the mountains.]

Woman: I hope Danny (my other client) doesn’t spot me here
My heart is pounding (£), don’t block my path you rascal (free-rider) surgean
By the ton I tremble, please don’t twist my finger (you sadist) PIA (crew)
(Repeat above lines)
Man: Don’t report me (to the authorities) after making it out (with me) in Wana (of all the places)

[Repeat Chorus]

[The woman throws not balls of fire but rather a ball of soft snow at the man; this he is able to catch successfully.]

[More useless chasing and hmmmm...aaa singing.]

Man: After botching up (my entire night), where (the hell) are you headed Mutt Wally?
With your tender lips, again promise me that you’ll meet me again in Wada (which is close to Wana)
(Repeat above lines)
Woman: This (unmentionable part) is your own home (sweet home), so do come freely (inside)

[Repeat Chorus]

[The man pretends he’s falling off a cliff.]

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