A Letter

Dear Rich Autumns,

You should know that even though I am writing this letter, I am not appreciative of your blog (or whatever you call it). It’s pointless, and I hate pointless things. But since you have asked me to write something for your readers, I want to know something. Don’t your ‘readers’ have anything better to do? 2012 is dead. So will we be. And this neighbour’s dog (the dog, hopefully, sooner than the rest), and if I am lucky, the neighbour too. But I am not grumpy. In general, I like the world. I’d like it better with less people in it, but who cares?

Last year, in short, was cold.  The cold does no good to me. The snow came down heavy, but you obviously know it. You wrote two excessively long posts about it. Then came the wind. It blew down the shed’s roof. I had to repair it. The carpenter was way too expensive.

It was all Nature’s play to punish you people. You have lost track!

Am I allowed to write expletives here? Am I? No? Why? Are these ‘readers’ of yours just kids! I hate little kids, you should know. Our neighbour has one. She does nothing but cry all day. I wonder what had her mother been feeding on for nine months. But still, in June last year some retards burnt the shrine of Dastgeer Sahab. They were not caught and nothing came of the government’s ‘inquiries’. I have never believed in the government. And I never will. They burnt the shrine and were let loose. Then they said we will make another one just like the old one, but what about the culprits? Is burning a heritage site allowed these days? Why don’t they burn a few heritage karakuls too?

But these karakuls won’t know. There was no gas and what were these thugs doing? I sent the servant boy to look up the gas queue and he comes back after an hour, saying that there is a line. I knew there is a line. Bloody ass! What does he take me for? It’s a good thing that now we have no gas to run these gas bukharis. People should go back to old times. They can bring back the hearth, but how will they get the firewood?

Then someone brought out a shoe and in the old city people were against each other. Fighting! I said, “Shabaash!” Now you are fighting over Chinese shoes with Chinese shoes? These fools like living under curfew. I don’t know a single person who understood why were the people protesting? Or were they fighting? And all these policemen and armymen! They don’t know a thing. They came like idiots with their guns and fired a few shells of gas. Chillied gas, like those Germans used to do. Of course! What else would they do? All they can do is fire here and there. I have stopped caring about these fires. I simply shut the windows and waited for all of them to die from the fire they were creating. But they didn’t die. My throat choked.  But you perhaps wouldn’t know. You were busy telling people that we drink babribeol during Ramzaan.

There! If you expect me to comment on every damn thing that happened last year, you shouldn’t.

I am,
Samad Joo.


PS: Samad Joo is not the happiest person in the world. He’s never been happy, actually. “But he likes the world.” Doesn’t ‘love’ it though!


Author: Rich Autumns

Blogger from Kashmir. Twitter: @RichAutumns

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