Faiza Hussain June 1, 2004

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Dedicated to .....

href="/tag/loss">loss of my muse. Without a muse on hand, I had to search for my inspiration by looking out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the subtle realities of the world that are so often neglected.

Lo and behold, there it was...lying lifelessly on the driveway; they had used it and now left it out in the cold. It was covered in a large, black bag with a tight knot at the end, suffocating it only to ensure that the contents do not spill over. This was a clear evidence of their “use, abuse, get rid” policy so often practiced in the political arena. It was not alone; similar piles had been stacked on top of it and around it. The night was the only obstacle holding it back from reaching its destiny. With the crack of dawn, they will come and perform the final rituals before it is finally laid to rest in a landfill. By now I should clarify the object of my scrutiny and inspiration, garbage/junk/trash, and I can add many other titles if it wasn’t for the inaptness of profanity.

American trash did initially serve as an inspiration but my true passion is reserved for Pakistani trash. I never knew trash could confer so much nostalgia and force me to take a trip down the memory lane. The rest is a reflection of my life and its trash in Pakistan (and it’s not the same as saying my trashy life in Pakistan).

We had small baskets usually lined with the thin and not so heavy-duty polythene bags reserved for collecting trash. The permanent and typical abode of these baskets was usually the kitchen and sometimes the TV lounge. These baskets were always confined to spaces where stranger eyes could not venture to discover their existence; it is common knowledge that Desis prefer to hide their trash even if it comes at the price of sweeping it under the carpet unlike westerners who willingly expose it on national TV (Jerry Springer, need I say more?)

In every household, the ratio of trash baskets to inhabitants was highly skewed provoking one to ponder how such a pint-sized basket could suffice the demands of so many. Perhaps the lack of junk food contributed to reduced garbage. Thanks to junk food, we usually go through several garbage bags a week over here. Hence the term “junk” food has a new meaning for me; it is food that literally adds to our everyday junk along with our waistline and behinds.

I have formulated a more credible theory in regards to the reduced amount of garbage collected in Pakistani homes versus American homes. Back home, we knew how to make use of every inch of our land both private and public. Our favorite pastime was to dispose trash on the roads, bridges, sidewalks, train/bus stations, or basically any piece of land that we could throw crap on and not be held accountable. To add to this, every neighborhood was equipped with its own landfill. We knew how to utilize our limited resources; why should we burden the government by demanding garbage men in garbage trucks to pick up our trash and burn fuel to transport trash from one place to another, when we can just hurl the trash bags onto a piece of land strictly devoted to this purpose. This is the most efficient form of garbage disposal; every community gathers its trash in a nearby allotment reserved solely for this purpose.

In some neighborhoods, this sacred trash dumping site belonged to an owner who had not yet built any edifice on it. While in other places, this garbage dump would previously have ranked as a house in the neighborhood which went through a metamorphosis upon its abandonment by its inhabitants. Vacant homes were the potential sites for landfills.

Let’s shift our focus to the pollution free (without burning fuel) method of transportation of garbage from home to its burial site.
Whoever said that Pakistanis are not athletic must not have witnessed our supreme talent of trash put. In the near future, Olympic judges are predicting Pakistani athletes to attain a sweeping victory in the trash put competition. The recent security drills in Athens had little to do with the evil Qaeda and more with the BJP. Before I drive a hatchet in the newly re-formed friendship with our veggie loving neighbors, let me clarify that BJP stands for Ballistic Jamaidars of Pakistan. The heightened concern for the protection of BJP is a reward for our incessant commitment to aid Daddy & Co in the fight against T (shhhhhhhh don’t say the word, BB is watching). There is really no match for our strength and determination when it comes to trash slinging. Although the rock throwing, Palestinian youth did emerge as a potential threat to our victory, His Ariel Highness is doing all in his power to suppress them, and that too for the sake of Pakistan.

The secret behind our exceptional performance is the fact that we receive training from early childhood regarding the most effective tossing methods. Parents should be credited for encouraging kids to engage in this activity from infancy; throwing candy wrappers on the road is the first step, soon to be followed by bigger and greater masses undergoing projectile motion. By the time we reach adolescence, not only do we excel at hurling trash from a convenient distance to the landfill, we outrival others in hurling insults.

Standard procedure for getting garbage from your end to its final resting place includes the following steps:
1. make sure the garbage bag is securely tied by a knot (to avoid being drenched in your own filth)
2. take your homely trash out into the street
3. as you get close to the landfill make sure you keep a certain distance or else you might nauseate due to the unendurable stench
4. once you have found your comfort zone, get ready to exercise your arms
5. stretch your hand sideways and then swing backwards, followed by an immediate powerful forward stroke (just like a forehand in the game of tennis) and let go off the trash bag in a single motion
6. now carefully observe its successful landing in the middle of the landfill and pat yourself on the back for accomplishing this marvelous feat.

Practice makes perfect; therefore, reserve a portion of your time everyday for hurling trash (literally and metaphorically speaking). You may not have made this year’s BJP but do not lose hope; your will to succeed will land you a place in the trashy society soon.

There is more to this crappy column but space and time confine me to end it here. Next time you lay your eyes on trash, I hope it signifies more than merely junk.