DIARY OF A SOCIAL BUTTERFLY: RETURN OF THE DARZI |
Yesterday, out of the bloom, my old darzi, Rafeeq, showed up at my door. The bearer came and said, “Bibi, Rafeeq has come to see you.”
I said, “Rafeeq who?”
He said, “Rafeeq Ilyas. He says he used to work for you 15 years ago.”
I had to think for a few minutes because my brain’s so jam packed with Tik Tok and Insta kay I hardly have bangwidth for anything else. And also, 15 years is a long time, yaar. I mean, I don’t even remember who I used to be back then, forget who Rafeeq Ilyas was. Honestly, people sends me photos of me and I can’t remember where they were taken or who the woman standing so uncomfortably close to me is and why I’m wearing such a loud print and that also in shopping pink!
Then the bearer said, “He says he was your tailor.”
“Oh, Master Rafeeq!” I said. “That weasel! That traitor! That back stabber! Why has he come? Send him in.”
Okay, so Rafeeq was my tailor. He used to make the tightest, bestest, most comfy sari blouses. And could sow shirts that made you look 10 pounds lighter. And could do exact same-to-same copy of Dolce and Kabana kay sexy silk maxis.........