January 5, 2018

I'm An Insta-Girl, In An Insta-World - Part 3

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Before you get going, don't miss I'm An Insta-Girl, In An Insta-World Part 2!


Friday, 16 December 2017

Allah maaf kar day, my feet are killing me. I can’t believe business-class passengers are expected to trudge through the entire bloody terminal just to get to the bloody lounge. Look at the nerve, Allah ki kasam. Fleecing us for airfare and making us run a marathon just to relax in some cheap rexine-covered recliners. Total chors!

On the plane it’s all Voss ka pani and bistar-razai and “Madam, would you like a drink.” After that, any rational person would demand some butler and buggy service — these stilettos cost $1700…


Monday, 19 December 2017

I love this new destination wedding trend. Pehlay tou, only the parha-likha, modrun, foreigner-marrying crowd did that sort of thing to avoid logon ki batein, but times have totally changed… 

Khair, we're headed to the #BuzzFool wedding next week in Seychelles — at least that’s where the mayoun is — but Hubby’s been acting like such a russi noo with his never-ending taanas about how much this trip is costing him and how many poors we could feed with that money. #Buzzkill. Jo bhi, that shadi is going to be ON FLEEK! Sixteen hundred of the couple’s friends, family, and farm animals (plus press, obvs) coming together for sixteen events in sixteen different exotic locations. Wah!


Wednesday, 21 December 2017

Oh Lord, that phappay-kutni Meena was on our flight. Full make-up, dressed to the nines, over insaan, and just look at her — following some mota moochar uncle, she cut straight through the immigration line with her jungli bachas and three Filipinos in tow. Meanwhile, I, thanks to Hubby, lined up like a lallo panjoo loser. 

I know she saw me flailing my arms her way, but she didn’t wave back. THIS is exactly why I was khao-fying Hubby’s brain. All he had to do was make one phone call to his bloody FIA wala cousin, lekin, no. Sarri mirch says if us parha-likas demand special treatment, it makes the jaahils super upset. Frankly, he’s the only jaahil in this situation. 

Next time I’m just calling Daddy’s IG Police walay friend to arrange some hi-fi protocol for us too. Qissa khatam.

And if Meena thinks I’ll react to her harkats, she obviously doesn’t know that Rakh-Rakhao is my middle name. I’m an utter professional at keeping my cool with this you-snub-my-back-I’ll-stab-yours drama. Of course, Sashay and Fareena aren’t allowed to talk to her at all. Friend code, na. 


Saturday, 24 December 2017

Hai Allah! Fluffy and Bonnie got into another totally embarassing phadda at the Funjaani’s Game of Thrones bash. Such a fun party — fried prawns and Dong Perignon type scene — but twenty minutes in and these two were flat-out, piss-face trashed, clawing and shoving each other in the middle of the dance floor, screaming and hurling slurs like two low-class, paan-chewing ricksha-waalas.

And then it happened, like some Indian soap opera heroine, literally a split-second before Monty and Cuckoo pried them apart, Fluffy planted a legendary thappar straight across Bonnie’s face. Dil khush kar ditta, I say. In fact, roz subha, she should plant one straight across his bootha. Forty years old, chaar bachon ka baap, a bulging tid, but still a bloody tharki jaanwar.

Well, at least we know who’s not making the guest list next year. 


Monday, 26 December 2017

Shukar hai, the year is almost over! Thak gayee hoon. I need to unwind before the khap-khana of fashion weeks kicks off. I’m frowing at two shows this year and I’ve had zero time to figure out all the details. Just trying to book a make-up appointment with Wania Watani has been a nightmare. She’s flying in from Dubai and she only does six faces. I have no back-up at this point, so my fingers are crossed. Thank God, Prince and Sajju Baba have slotted me in for hair. And, big news, this year I’m styling myself! These “professional” stylist shtylists are total paisay zaya, I tell you. Pheeki taste. No dhamaka. Waisay bhi, what’s the big deal? Make-up lagao, baal banao, kapray pao, tay bhaj jao.


Waisay, something tells me, abhi tou party shuroo huee hai…



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