Came home for lunch today and tucked into some delightful seekh kebabs that my wife had lovingly made for me.
In Pakistani culture the prosperity of a man is not measured by the size of his bank balance but instead by the size of his waist. If you’re too slim, expect the elder ladies (mothers, aunties, grandmothers etc) to complain that the poor wife is not feeding her hard working husband. If the wife in question is herself of a generous proportions (moti biwi) and the husband is a lean chap beware - then this can be a very sensitive topic
The aunty talk around the coffee tables will be like;
“Oh we can see where all the food is going ….”
Anyway getting back to the seekh kebabs, these were very spicy and extremely tasty… a touch on the chilly side but much better than the bland food available in the work canteen.
The only problem was when I returned to the office, I could still smell the kebabs !, and with each minute going by the aroma was getting stronger. What was the source of the smell? I rushed to the gents and washed my hands using a generous quantity of soap but the smell of kebabs did not disappear.
I returned to my desk, and was getting really paranoid as my smell sensors were working overtime and fixated to the aroma of spicy kebabs. Everytime a fellow co-worker came near me to ask a question or have a social chat I would take a step back or propel my chair in a reverse direction to maintain a 1.5 metre exclusion zone.
This smell was really getting to my head, I was no longer able to concentrate on work issues but my mind bringing visions of garam masala, garlic, ginger, coriander, green chilli, and even pomegranate. No longer was I just smelling the kebabs, I was now having visions of all the ingredients too!
In Pakistani culture the prosperity of a man is not measured by the size of his bank balance but instead by the size of his waist. If you’re too slim, expect the elder ladies (mothers, aunties, grandmothers etc) to complain that the poor wife is not feeding her hard working husband. If the wife in question is herself of a generous proportions (moti biwi) and the husband is a lean chap beware - then this can be a very sensitive topic
The aunty talk around the coffee tables will be like;
“Oh we can see where all the food is going ….”
Anyway getting back to the seekh kebabs, these were very spicy and extremely tasty… a touch on the chilly side but much better than the bland food available in the work canteen.
The only problem was when I returned to the office, I could still smell the kebabs !, and with each minute going by the aroma was getting stronger. What was the source of the smell? I rushed to the gents and washed my hands using a generous quantity of soap but the smell of kebabs did not disappear.
I returned to my desk, and was getting really paranoid as my smell sensors were working overtime and fixated to the aroma of spicy kebabs. Everytime a fellow co-worker came near me to ask a question or have a social chat I would take a step back or propel my chair in a reverse direction to maintain a 1.5 metre exclusion zone.
This smell was really getting to my head, I was no longer able to concentrate on work issues but my mind bringing visions of garam masala, garlic, ginger, coriander, green chilli, and even pomegranate. No longer was I just smelling the kebabs, I was now having visions of all the ingredients too!
Across the office I saw my manager making way towards me to discuss long term strategic planning. I needed to move fast, and just like Jason Bourne in the Bourne Identity film I had mapped out all the escape routes from my desk. All those years of hard physical training finally paid off as I made a dash for the canteen, but as I walked past the HR dept I had a flashback just like Jason …. “trouser pocket “, and there it was a - a paper napkin. I had cleaned my hands with the paper napkin after eating the kebabs and instead of disposing of the paper in the bin I simply folded it and placed it in my trouser pocket.
Seekh & Destroy paper napkin - mission accomplised, and I didn't require any instructions from Treadstone 71.
The moral of the story is to keep eating those fine kebabs that your wife makes for you but get rid of the napkins. Also keep training hard, and map out all the escape routes as you don't know when they'll come in handy !
The moral of the story is to keep eating those fine kebabs that your wife makes for you but get rid of the napkins. Also keep training hard, and map out all the escape routes as you don't know when they'll come in handy !
2 comments:
i swear i left something looking like that in the toilet this morning!
Just aswell you didn't burp in the office!! I see from the pic that you're into salads in a big way!
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