My lil Bro...

My bro started going to school last year. The school is like a North American island in the middle of Lahore, with blondes and brunettes casually but expensively dressed. People just fly past you, stopping by every now and then to say “hello” and moving on without waiting for a reply. Just a sign of civilization to say hello to the person you are flying past.
When I look at those white legs ( including the Chinese legs.) I wonder how they manage to keep them waxed all year round while Abida the maid mumbles “Haw hai Baji! Inney tey dupatta wi nai litta huya!”
This reminds me of the times when I had caught her watching XXX movies in the middle of the night…What a smart way of acting sweet….
I now wonder if my lil bro will ever find-out that juss a few kilometers away is the Wahga border from where our Grandpa narrowly escaped death to become a part of a new nation based on the theory that Hindus (notice-not Americans) are a different nation from us…
Will he ever find out how to escape an angry bull and prevent oneself from falling in the cow dung…
And how it feels to fall into the cold naala on a hot summer afternoon….
But right now he is thinks October is pronounced “Octouber” and when asked why we bring the Bakras at our place once in a year…he said its for celebrating thanks-giving…..eating muffins, donuts, cookies, apple pies……what the ****