Gaddafi! You serious?

I would like to begin this post by thanking Hina Rabani Khar. Must say that a little post on her got me a lot of hits and thanks to her, the blog has gained popularity in Pakistan and middle-east. So I guess, that is the territory I need to explore and not too mention people in that part of the world are smoking hot. Kill two birds with one stone. I need numbers people. Since our brothers and sisters in that part of the world have faced such difficult times lately, I guess they can do with a smile. We all can. So THANKS A TON MS.KHAR. Hope Hillary did not make you cry much during her last visit. Heard you went running to the loo to wipe a silent tear during your visit to washington. Just remember that she is not getting any *You know what I mean* and you certainly were not great help to yourself by showing up with that 'BIRKIN' in your tow.

Moving along, there is a reason they ask you to pay attention during history class or read the paper so that you are aware of what is happening around the globe and how certain people went down in history. Gaddafi certainly did not believe in that. He should have at least googled Benito Mussolini, Adolf Hitler, Nicolae Ceausescu and Rafael Trujillo and most recently Saddam Hussain and Hosini Mubarak. I guess some people just do not want to learn from somebody else's mistakes. What I do not understand is, what use is all that power when at the end of the day you have to coup in a drain pipe like a street rat and end up being sodomized with a knife(I did see a few clips. What? I was doing a bit of research for this post). When painter Francis Bacon was asked, who in the world he would most like to bed, he replied, “I’d like to fuck the pants off Colonel Qaddafi.” Little too late I guess.

We are not discussing his death or his reign as a dictator in this post. The man was every bit a Sartorial. They say that all dictators are a bit crazy and that certainly holds true when it came to Gaddafi's clothes. You could see the effort that was put in due to his keenness to stand out. He certainly added colour to 'Oh so boring black and grey summits'. 

Once ranked fifth among 10 worst-dressed leaders according to a survey conducted by Time magazine,his personal style certainly got him all the attention. Be it the map of Africa or pictures of dead people pinned to his military jacket, it certainly reflected his eccentric character. Apparently Colonel was very particular about the appearance of his female body guards. They had to have manicured fingers, mascara(I bet it was water-proof) and silken tresses. Poor women(Read some horrible stories about how they were treated and forced to join the military.Disgusting).

The person who needs to be credited for adding much humour to international political circuits with Gadaafi's clothes is Rabia Ben Barka. Ben Barka was born into a very rich family in Libya. Her family owned textile factories in Tripoli

And then things changed in 1969.

Qaddafi, then a captain, and a small group of fellow officers staged a coup d'état in 1969 and managed to oust the monarchy. Gaddafi nationalized almost everything on his way to establishing a socialist-style economy. Anyway. to cut a long story short, many years later the ticket back came through the man who had taken everything away from her and she became the leader's designer. Must say she did a fantastic job. At the end of the day she delivered what was asked of her. Eccentric he wanted, eccentric she delivered.
Enough talking(read writing) because I'm only capable of writing that much. Just being honest. 

On a parting note, just wondering who would replace his spot as one of world's worst-dressed leaders. Any takers? 

And as always, to WORLD PEACE.

Inspecting female cadets at the military academy

Young Gaddafi in a tailored tunic of a military butcher

Worn during Gaddafi's arrival at an African Heads of State summit in Maputo, Mozambique, on July 10, 2003, features images of freedom fighters.

Set to address France's lower house of parliament

With his 'Bodygaurds'

Just after Friday prayers

With Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi with a photograph of Omar Mukhtar, a Libyan resistance fighter who was hanged by Italian forces in 1931, wearing it pinned to his chest like a medal.

At a march-past of Libya’s armed forces in 1999. For this occasion he wears no fewer than 16 different orders and decorations

You thought Lady Gaga is crazy?

Adding a bit of colour during Arab-Africa summit

Welcoming French President Nicolas Sarkozy to Tripoli, Libya, on July 25, 2007

My question is: Who conferred those honours? Apparently, they were sourced in flea markets of Paris

Sports an outlandish chemise printed with pictures of African heroes and Cuban heels, towering over Hosni Mubarak of Egypt

Visit to Versailles in 2007

AT G8 summit

Zip the lip!

A story like mine should never be told and I'm not even a Geisha...and talking about Geishas, Hatsumomo is a goddess.

Anyway, a few days ago a friend read a quote to me by Gabriel García Márquez and it summed it all up: Everything that goes into my mouth seems to make me fat, everything that comes out of my mouth embarrasses me.

Over a period of time I've realized that I'm not the only victim. 

I have a perfect story(ies) to prove that right and let me warn you that some of you might not find it funny.

Last month I had to attend a family wedding. Since work has been a bit crazy(Hence no posts lately), I could only spare a day. So I decided to attend the Sangeet and skip the wedding ceremony. That way you can avoid being reminded of all the embarrassment that you brought upon yourself the night before.  Sangeets are always much more fun. You get to drink, dance and say foolish things and best of all, you get to see people make fools of themselves when they get on the stage to shake a leg (badly) and sing (even worse,) dedicating it to the bride and groom. Since the venue was next to the pool on a terrace, at one time I had to ask my sister-in-law to push me into the pool and make sure that my head did not come out because that was the only way I could have saved myself from the torture of the performance and we could have passed it as an accident because slashing the wrists would have been inappropriate...and I didn't want my brand new kurta stained. But it was a good time to go and smoke a cigarette without my grandmother looking at me and insisting that I dance to every song possible. What makes her think that I would after she refused to foot all/half the airfare. Seriously! What you going to do with all that money?

One certainly had to down a lot of drinks to get through the night and in my defense the wine goblets were really really tiny, so I had to make many a trips to the bar and I was fetching drinks for other people as well *Someone had audacity to tell me that they were surprised to see me drink so much. Trust me, this came from someone who held a full glass of whiskey and let us not forget it's the same man who thought that it was a good idea to sing at a wedding*. At this time a lady decides to have a conversation with me. This is how it went:

Lady: 'Have never seen you around. Who are you?'

Me: 'I'm the groom's cousin."

Lady: 'Maternal or paternal?'
Me: 'Uh...."

Lady: 'Oh! Mummy could not make it?'

Me: 'Been a bit busy lately'

*Well... the lady missed out on a very crucial piece of information before she asked me that question : my mother passed away almost two decades ago.*

Well, I was a bit hammered by that time and I wanted to tell her something like, 'She has been pushing daisies for a while or she could not manage a to get on a plane from Heaven' but I did not want to rob her of the opportunity of finding that out herself next morning. Evil me. I kind of felt terrible for her because I've been there. One time I ended up telling a woman at a party that I think that a certain man is bit 'Rustic' *I should not be calling people rustic since I grew up in a village...but I've come a long way baby* Turned out that the man I was referring to was her husband. Oops! I did it (yet) again! I just wanted the earth to split that very moment and swallow me whole. I can't even begin to express my embarrassment quotient.


This is what I refer to as a Bridgit Jones' moment. Just when you think that you've made a few new friends you can trust them and boom they drop the bomb.

So when is it appropriate to shut up at a party? I say NEVER!!!

Cheers to that, and the next party we all go to!