“I am writing a Valentine card for the love of my life. But I can’t decide what to write. Any ideas, Shuntoo?” he asked innocently.
“No.” Shuntoo replied.
“Please yaar! Help me out here.”
“I don’t know.”
And Shuntoo closed the magazine in his lap, lit a cigarette and said “Ok, how about this.
“My love! On this senseless occasion, on which we celebrate something that nobody is really sure of, celebrated in memory one of about four or five people named Valentine, nobody really knows which one, on this day which is probably the modern version of an ancient pagan festival, a day which has absolutely nothing to do with our history, culture, traditions, religion, or common sense, I just want to send you this card to show that the efforts of the media in the 90s to forcibly make this day a part of our lives in Pakistan have not been in vain. This card comes with a message of love, social conformity, and respect for the all the commercial interests who have been using this day in Pakistan to sell flowers, candies, and cards like this at exorbitant prices. This is a gesture of solidarity with all the others people who, with equally minimum knowledge of the rationale or logic behind this celebration, still have the courage to stand up for what they don’t know, to act on what they don’t understand, and to be part of something none of them can make much sense of. Please accept this token and be my Valentine. Say yes, and do not spare a thought for the fact that you have no clue what being someone’s Valentine means. I assure you neither do I. Nobody does, so let’s be a part of this occasion with all the other people. To ignorance, silliness, and blind following of the mob. Till next year. Yours……”