Floaters
“It’s a bomb, it’s a bomb,” shouted Khadija, all hysterical and tomato red.
“A bomb? A bomb?” Asked Mansoor, all curious and sort of pale.
“Naaaa, just joking,” smiled Khadija.
“Stupid joke, sister.”
“Kyoon? What was so stupid about it? And why are you calling me sister?”
“What else should I call you? Babe? Doll? What?
“Just Kadija would do, thank you very much.”
“I see you in a burqua and sister is what comes to mind”
“And bomb!” Interrupted Faisal.
“Kyoon? Just because I wear a burqua now?”
“Yes, and the fact you’ve grown a beard!”
“She has?” Asked Mansoor, all curious and mischievous pink.
“Haramzaday!” shouted Khadija, now Mexican chilly red.
“Go on, let’s see that beard now,” said Faisal. “Down with that veil”
“Why sister Khadija, why the beard?” Asked Mansoor.
“Haram-zadoon ... Ameriki chamchoon ... yahoodi kameenoon ... Comunistoon ...”
“Communistoon?” Said Faisal. “How can communists be Amrikee chamchay?”
“Just like veiled women can be bearded!” Said Khadija.
“So you ARE bearded! Show, show!” Said Faisal.
“Yes! Here!” Khadija pulled off her veil.
She sure did have a beard. And a pretty long one as well.
“My God!” Mansoor turned all shocked brown. “But why?”
“Waxing is a western concept. Real Muslims are as humans should be.”
“ You look like anything but!” Said Mansoor. “Since when have you been growing this beard?”
“Ever since I finally discovered the true meaning, message and spirit of Islam.”
“Umm ... does this mean all other women who wear a burqua or a veil have beards as well?”
Asked Mansoor.
“Of course. Islam is all about equal rights. If men can have beards, so can the women.”
“Umm ... you know, Khadija,” said Faisal, “it is Mslims like YOU who are making me remain a
non-believer. Why the fuck are you guys warping everything up?”
“Warping? You atheistic fool. We are coming out and announcing the reemergence of true Islam!”
“By keeping a beard?” Asked Mansoor.
“Of course. It’s a sunnat. So why not?”
Mansoor just shook his head and chuckled: “You look AWFUL!”
“Yes, I was planning to trim it a bit” Said Khadija, running a polite hand across the beard.
“Trim it? Get rid of it!” Said Faisal.
“No, God says, all Muslims with beards will go to heaven”
“God never said that!” Said Mansoor. “Who told you that?
“Mufti Sahib”
“Utter nonsense!”
“No! You both are nonsense! Oh you shut up! What you do? You go keelub and play badminton

you white man the laaltain, you lovers of Billo and waxed Perveens! Shut-up you nonsense bastard
men!”
Both Manoor and Faisal were stunned. They looked at each another for a whole minute and then
burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Asked Khadija.
“Whatever happened to your language?” Asked Faisal. “Is talking like this a sunnat too?”
Khadija turned lava orange: “Oh you bloody fool bastard! It’s a bomb, it’s a bomb!”
“What’s a bomb? What’s a bomb?” Asked Mansoor.
Khadija suddenly shoved over and up her burqua and kameez to expose her belly strapped with
tons of dynamite and a timer.
“Shit!” Mansoor’s eyes popped open and out.
“Kyoon? Phat gai? Scared now, you bloody Communists!”
“Shit Khadija ... that’s, that’s ...”
“Yes, yes, a bomb!” Khadija smiled.
“Yes .. we know THAT .. but, boy, look at that stomach! It’s HUGE!” Said Mansoor, his eyes still
popping.
Faisal agreed: “Shit! What have you been eating?”
“You bloody sexical westernized bastards! You want women to be all waxed and flat, right?”
“Sexical? What the fuck’s sexical?” Asked Faisal.
“People who always have sex on their minds, you anarchistic dog!”
“Bullshit! I mean, YOU’RE the one flashing your belly in front of us!” Said Faisal.
“And what a massive belly it is!” added Mansoor.
“Of course!” Said Khadija. “Mufi sahib was right. Muslims think from their hearts and the goras
think from their penises”
“What does your mufti say about goris?” Asked Faisal.
“Shut up you nonsense manhood! You gora capitalist pigs”

“But Khadija, we aren’t goras.” Said Mansoor. “And I see it, both you guys and capitalist pigs
have one very prominent thing in common.”
“What?” Asked Khadija.
“Both are unabashedly exhibitionistic!” Said Mansoor.
“What do you mean you communist thug. We are the ... the .. the ..the ...”
“ The real thing!” Said Faisal.
“Yes, the real thing!”
“That’s an old Coca-Cola slogan”
“So what?” Said Khadija. “Coca-Cola is now Qibla Cola”
“No it’s not!” Said Mansoor.
“It IS you flower-power ‘60s San Francisco Grateful Dead Hells Angels hippie!”
“What?” Said Mansoor.
“Hey! Check this out!” Said Faisal, pointing at the strapped bomb’s timer. “It’s a Micky Mouse
watch!”
“So? My brother gifted it to me” Said Khadija.
“From Saudi Arabia?”
“No, you ignorant agnostic! From America. He runs a store in New York.”
“Why is your brother there. Isn’t he a REAL Muslim like you?
“You fool. He’s the mufti!”
“You mean ... but ... why the fuck’s he in New York?” Asked Mansoor, all baffled.
“Okay, fools. Time to go.” Khadija started the timer of the bomb.
“What the fuck are you doing??” Shouted Mansoor.
“Worry not you coward whimps!” Said Khadija. “I won’t blow up here. I’m going to Zainab
Market.”
“But you’ll end up killing hundreds of innocent people, most of them Pakistanis and Muslims,”
Said Mansoor.
“So? I’ll be going to heaven, that’s all that matters.”
“Did the mufti tell you that as well?” Asked Faisal. “That’s stupid. God will never want you to do
that.”
“Oh, since when did YOU start believing in God?”
“Sigh. God knows” Saying this Faisal pulled out a pistol from a drawer and shot Khadija point-blank
in the face. Then looking at the bomb’s ticking timer, he asked: :“Ummm …how far is that Coke factory ? ”
“Not that far.” Said Mansoor. “About five minutes drive.”
“Good” said Faisal, looking at the ticking timer again. “We have about seven minutes.”

_____________



The God Couple
We shifted him to another planet. Planet of dust.
“And mud.” Said Utrapit.
Yes, and mud. A planet one could only reach through time travel.
“And bus.” Said Utrapit.
Bus?
“Yes, bus.”
What bus? How?
“We shifted him to another planet. Planet of dust and mud. A planet one could only reach
through time travel and bus.”
What bus?
“We shifted him to another planet. Planet of dust and mud. A planet one could only reach through time travel and bus.”
Okay, okay. Helonmie relaxed a bit after he figured Utrapit was really a bioborg.
What series are you? He asked.
“The ones who can smoke ... who can drink alcohol ... and enjoy smoking and drinking” Said Utrapit.
Why would they make a smoking and drinking bioborg in this day and age? Thought Helonimie.
“You want a smoke, sir?” Asked Utrapit, taking out a generic cigarette pack.
“No thanks,” said Hellonmie. “I don’t smoke.”
“We shifted him to another planet.” Said Utrapit.
“I know. They said he was already dead.”
“That’s why they shifted him to a planet of dust and mud. To recreate him.”
Man had found God. On this very planet. Very many light years away. But only a few privliged
ones were allowed to meet him there. In fact they said God himself didn’t want to meet
any Tom, Dick & Harriot.
“Have you ever been to that planet?” Helonmie asked Utrapit.
“I was made there.”
“But we all were ... yet most of us don’t know what that planet or God looks like. But since
you were made there wholesale I figured ...”
“You figured wrong. Not all of you were made there. Many of you were made right here on
planet Earth.”
“By whom?” Asked Helonmie, a bit baffled.
“By the one who made God”
“What? Who made God?”
“Yes, by the one who made God.”
“But who? Who made God?”
“You!”
“ Me?”
“You!”
“Me?”
“Yo u!”
“How?”
“You should know. You are the humanoid, not me.”
“Humans made God?”
“You should know. You are the humanoid, not me.”
“Would you stop repeating yourself.”
“I should know. I’m the bioborg, not you.”
“You should know what?”
“When not to and when to”
“Repeat yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Sorry. I think I’ll have that cigarette after all.”
“Causes cancer and assorted lung diseases. They can arrest you for smoking.”
“I know.”
“Have an energy soda, instead.”
Heloniam started to giggle: “Shit. Why would a God maker require an energy soda?! Give me
cigarette.”
“I can be arrested for offering you one.”
“But you just did a few minutes ago.”
“I was testing you.”
Hellonmie giggled again: “You’re sounding like God”
“God is more disciplined and logical than the one who made him.”
“Really, then tell me, who made the one who made God?”
“You should know, you’re the humanoid, not me.”
“That means, us humanoids made God who made you bioborgs, right?”
“Right.”
“But who made us?”
“You should know, you’re the ...”
“Yes, yes, danmit, I know, I know.”
“You do? Then do tell. Who made you?”
“Or the one who made me?”
“We can go on and on and on like this. You can go mad. They can arrest you for that.”
“What do they do to the people they arrest for madness and smoking?”
“Are you really that naive, sir?”
“I’ve always been graded as ‘very sane’ all my life.”
“I see. Remain that way. People like you are eventually allowed an audience with God.”
“But why should I meet someone I created myself?”
“Don’t know. You tell me.”
“Never mind. Tell me then, what do they do to the people they arrest for madness and smoking?”
“The same thing they do to the people they arrest for murder and treason.”
“They are executed?”
“Depends on God. He has the final say.”
“God judges the very people that created him?”
“Yes. Keeps things stable and in order.”
“For whom? Because this has greatly disturbed me.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, screw God, screw them, screw all this fascist elitism.”
“Want a cigarette?”
“Yes!”
Utrapit took out the pack, and with it a pair of magnetic hand-cuffs. He snapped them around
Helonmie’s wrists.
“Sir, I arrest you for attempting to smoke and treason ...”
“What ... you bastard! You vicious, slimy bastard!”
“ ... and madness. May God have mercy on you.”