by Mohammed Hanif
The terror of the Shalwar
You seem particularly puzzled that why our honourable courts would object to your short story called Kaali Shalwar, in which a down-on-her-luck prostitute (again a prostitute, I think we need to update you on that), Sultana, wants a black Shalwar to observe Muharram. On a desolate morning, she sits outside her little shack, looking over the railway tracks watching railway engines bellow giant puffs of smoke that “float up like fat men”. It’s not the railway tracks or the colour black that we were objecting to. We didn’t have a problem with the fact that she wanted to observe Ashura (although that would be a problem now, she might get killed before she can score that Shalwar — and you thought you lived in turbulent times).
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