Moushoo
Skunk
Atom
Orange-lady
Chip-munk
Duh
......familiar?

And then we say we aren’t judgmental.

I write of language discourse and creation of identities, yet just realized how often we ourselves are perpetuators of such discourses….:S…wweEops too much SS lingo? …it gets to you sometimes yes haha…anyways...

I tend to be bad with names. But if you chose not to wear that torturous odor everyday, spare my nose and try using a Fa antiperspirant, attach more recognition to your identity than the cartoon image of a stinky fish skeleton or a used dirty green sock with gray smokey fumes, I might just consider attempting to memorize your damn name!

'N hey it’s not my fault if twenty four parents around the world chose to have kids at the same hour and name all of them Fatima or Ali. Where is you sense of originality? I’d so prefer Rupelstiltskin anyday! ;D ....(no offence to any Fatimas and Ali reading this ofcourse. I know you? I love you... hehe)

Ok…so sometimes you do tend to remember the names too, but it’s just so much easier to give a name that makes more sense to you. It’s actually a favor bestowed upon mankind. Say if a person who’s a real dog in nature, is actually called “dog”, wouldn't that would make life so much simpler for those around, and save those innocent naïve creatures running around from being beguiled by their deceptive identities?

Naming for the sake of analogy is also as legitimate a cause. What can make more sense than the dorrito vs. namak paara theory when trying to illuminate the credentials, and lack of, between two potential interests? Yes that might involve reducing individuals to a level of objectification where they are being compared to a packet of crisps, but hey dorritos are anything but derogatory.

We criticized to death the Akbari-Askari way of thinking in urdu literature classes back in grade eight… yet insist upon doing so ourselves. We consciously believe in ‘shades of gray’, but when it comes to dealing with people they’re either angels or they have the devil in them. The guy you see helping the old lady cross the road goes on to the golden star list and the one that sticks his head out of the window and spits red eow pan slashes on the pwetty walkway next to the flower beds gets to be black listed. One becomes the sweet-uncle and the other the icky-pan-thook-guy. But that’s not the end of it…there is more to them then you know. I never thought of myself as vulnerable and naïve when it came to judging people. But man, I suck at it! :S

I could never understand Manto’s “khol doa”…how those men could be heroes at one end and then in another instance commit the same crimes they were supposedly saving others from. But very recently have realized it happens all around you. Hypocrisy, double-standards, weaknesses......a complex mesh of incomprehensible weirdness.

So the moral of this immoral story is….naming people for the sake of simplicity can end up making you believe, they are that simple.

Beware of the evil within you.

The truth is out there.

For those of you who read this the second time to actually make sense of it, and those of you who do not like dorritos: you are a sad individual, go smash you head against a wall and squish any remains of those brain cells that exist up there…they are useless. *smug smilie*