Schmoozefest
If you've ever had the luxury, or perhaps the better term is misfortune, of attending a "professional gathering", you'll know exactly what this post is all about. The moment you drive up to the entrance, the Sesame Street song "which of these things is not like the others" starts coming to mind. You're sitting there in your Honda, Toyoya, Mazda, or whatever equivalent domestic make, and you're surrounded by fancy European cars. That's fine. You then park, and make your way to the foyer or for a more fancy term "concierge". You bust out your folded up print out from Gmail or Hotmail of your invitation to this event. The fact that you bring out the paper in and of itself proves that you don't think you belong, because why else would you need a piece of paper to announce that YOU have arrived?
After a quick look up and down, with the thoughts "this dude is from the same paind as I am back home", the concierge guy points to the elevator to your right. You say thank you, give a little nod and are on your way. You make your way to the "event".
You get to the main doors, always some kind of cliche title to the event, and you enter. "Where do I hang my coat? But no, I want to keep it with me a) in case I want to jet early b) I don't want someone to steal my wallet! (Ironic isn't it that once people see you they start fidgeting around for THEIR wallets).
You enter. Where's the host? Is there a host? Where are the seats? Why are there not chairs in this room? Frig, magrib is in 1/2 hour. I don't see an empty corner where I can pray. Oh wait there's Mohammad...aw shoot, it's "MO", and chances of him even knowing what prayer is would be stretching it thin. Ok. Well when all else fails go to the snack table. You go to the snack table: mmm cheese...but wait...is it halal? Just say bismillah and eat it! Hmm...finger foods. FRIG! This is dinner? This is why I missed lunch and raced to this meeting for?
Ok, got my snack, and my non-alcoholic beverage (for which I was asked a good 5 times, are you sure? we have fine wine! no beer? are you ok sir?). There are a few circle of people lounging around. You're looking for a familiar face. None. But wait, one of the circles opens up, and the lead there gives you the largest "Joker from Batman I" smile and somehow recognizes you. This somehow gives you some solace and you are sucked into that circle. All you hear is "blah blah blah blah blah...." followed by a chorus of "HAHAHAHAHAHA...you're too much!, no YOU'RE too much".
You take the first opp out to join another group, and hear much the same. You make your way to the food table, hoping some biriyani might show up. Samosas? Nope. More finger foods. THIS IS HIGH CLASS?! Time stands still. Every time you look at your watch, only 5 minutes has passed. Then, as luck would have it, a few of the other guests reach for their coats. They have to leave early as they have an early morning meeting! What an excellent excuse! You make the same announcement, grab your coat and make for the door.
Yes I'm out!! "Oh hey there!" FRIG, someone has decided to leave at the same time. You must strecth out a few more minutes without hurling. Elevators open, they close. Stuck. They open. You're out...but not...they've parked in the same area as you. Finally you part ways. You get in your car and drive away as fast as your Indy skills can.
You get home, and you hear "HAASSHMMMAATTT? BETA are you home? Aap kah guya? Etna der aap kewn baar jarraho". And then everything clicks. Everything makes sense. The reason you were the one that didn't belong. The reason you didn't get the jokes. The reason why you were picking through all the food looking whether or not there was a bit of meat in it. The reason that the doorman was a little more chummy with you. The reason why people were opening your rear door asking you to take them to Bloor street when you pulled up in your car. The reason why someone put their empty dish when you were done your plate. The epiphany that you were waiting for. I'M BROWN!
Lesson learned: be yourself when you go to these events. To hell with the others. You know who you are, BE IT.
posted by Hash & Hana at 10:54 AM
2 Comments:
Hash, the one sentence you wrote in urdu, doesn't make sense!! Man, I thought I was doing a good job teaching u!
-Your Wife
hashmat you aint brown, youre TAMIL BROWN.
this was a very well written and relatable story for many, im sure. the (haute) embourgeoisement of second generation muslims is a very fascinating story laden with many mixed emotions. on one hand you aspire to be "like them" but on the other hand, you don't want to be "with them." this is very contradictory because to truly be like someone you have to do things with them and inculcate similar attitudes and behaviours. if you do the former without the latter you are a sell out to the snobs but if you do that latter without the former you are a sell out to your paki boys.
so there is this inner conflict between being a part of that social-cultural group while at the same time, not becoming fully immersed in its practices. i think it's the love-hate relationship that immigrants (muslims in particular maybe) have with the west and the tensions of this shaky philosophical position that play out in cases such as yours. the fact that we are pretty well-sheltered and ethnically ghettoized second generationers indeed has something to do with our discomfort with the other, however i think this discomfort is felt by non-coloured, non-muslims as well. i think those who are honest will recognize that like ts elliot's prufrock, there is something superficial about the whole setting -- that there is something wrong with the false-homogeneity maintained in these 'high class' gatherings.
you should polish the piece up, make the narrative a little longer and send it to a magazine (q-news) or something.
oh and you are much funnier in writing than in person. and your urdu is much worse in writing than in...actually its just as bad in person ;)
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