The opening sentence of this article is so well-crafted I want to make babies with it.
From the sweeping presidential palace of Islamabad to an unassuming three-bedroom flat behind the shisha bars and kebab joints of London’s Arabic quarter – one might have expected Pervez Musharraf to do better.
The article also made me feel quite good about literally having a haleem joint, a milkshake joint and various bakeries literally a stone’s throw away from my flat. Of course, my apartment didn’t cost over £1m and I don’t have private security and Scotland Yard detail following me. Instead, I have a chowkidaar who stays asleep for most of the day, and regularly refuses to wake up when the water tanker arrives or if one ever has guests waiting at the apartment’s main gate.
In other news, I was jolted out of my flu-induced stupor by this image of Khalid Sheikh Mohammad, oddly timed to be released around the 9/11 anniversary, which I suggest you show your children (if you have any) if they ask you too many questions. It should shut them up for a while.
Also, If you get invited to the PM’s house anytime soon, remember to take along your own mithai, cos he ain’t serving any. Of course, there is no way of really verifying if this will actually lead to an be enforced, and if other politicians will follow suit, but in any case don’t forget to pack those Toblerones.
And last, but not the least, Meera makes a journalist’s day.
P.S: Those of you who come to this blog looking for Ali Mustafa, please go away. He has a Twitter account, go read his updates instead. I’m going to go take care of my flu.