JournalismPakistan.com
July 04, 2012
Chatterbox

ISLAMABAD: Every writer should have a muse. This source of inspiration could be a person, a place, a thought, even an object. But yes, a muse is a quintessential part of a writer’s persona.

For example take M.F. Husain, one of the most celebrated and internationally recognized Indian artists of the 20th century. Some of his canvasses have fetched $2 million and above while museums and collectors chase his works.

He too has a muse almost as renowned as himself - South Indian actress Madhuri Dixit of the Tezaab and Hum Aaap Kay Hein Kon fame. Husain has not only painted a series of paintings revolving around Madhuri but directed a movie, Gaja Gamini  inspired by his muse.

And not quite in the same league, but aspiring as much, one of Aaj TV’s talk show hosts, sometime analyst and journalist, Nusrat Javed too has apparently managed to find a new muse.  There were a few others before, but this one is younger and more interesting. Certainly more controversial!

Not a week passes when Nusrat’s posts on FaceBook are not replete without some mention or update on Veena Malik, the outspoken film actress/model, who now says she intends to go into politics.

Nusrat’s apparent infatuation with the antics and situations that arise in the life of this young woman are religiously documented in his FaceBook posts. He’s certainly under her spell.

Veena, its not so hard to recall, was a huge hit in the Indian reality show Big Boss (Season 4) and then also modeled topless (she later denied she did) for the Indian edition of FHM magazine in which she controversially had "ISI" written on her upper arm – the initials of Pakistan's Inter Services Intelligence agency.

It’s all right Nusrat, everybody has the freedom to indulge their muse. You are a writer after all. I hope. It’s just that I find it mind-boggling that at 60 plus years of age you still find the time to actively go about your mission with such zeal.

Which reminds me, age should not be a criteria for zeal; my own bones have started creaking a bit. That doesn’t mean I’m done yet.

But moving on from Veena, Nusrat recently also declared in true Punjabi munda fashion that he would deal with the author of that notorious document doing the rounds which so boldly accuses him of taking favors and cash from the Bahria Town king, Malik Riaz, has had nothing more to say on the subject, one wonders  what happened.

Oh… these Punjabi boys and their Sultan Rahi barkein!

But then you can just as well turn around and say, “Boys will be boys!”

And before I go, just a small story I have to share with you about journalists when they begin to grow old (No offense intended Nusrat).

A chief reporter of a well-known newspaper from our part of the world found himself on a junket to Europe, more specifically, to Amsterdam, that beautiful historic city of artistes and painters, flowers and pretty cobbled streets.

The chief reporter, who had long ago gone bald, wore a wig, eye glasses, false teeth and was struggling with weight problems arrived in Amsterdam huffing and puffing, excited at the prospects of visiting a certain part of the city he had been advised he just could not miss.

Not losing any time he headed immediately to the Red Light District, where surprise of all surprises, he quickly landed a ‘sex-worker’ ready to work with him. So off to her room he headed. She waited for the chief reporter as he got ready.

She watched as he took off his watch and put it on the side table; then he removed his glasses and put them alongside his watch. He blushed a little as he took off his wig, coughing nervously. Finally, he turned his face away from her and took out his false teeth. He placed these on the table as well.

The prostitute tore her gaze away from the table, which now had a collection of the chief reporter’s belongings, and focused on the chief reporter who finally began to undo his buttons.

“I hope that doesn’t come off too and go on the table,” she piped cheekily, pointing to a certain part of his anatomy.

The chief reporter, it is reported, beat a hasty retreat from her room.

The things boys do when they grow old!

(The views expressed by the writer do not necessarily reflect the views of JournalismPakistan.com)