Hi,
Long was it since a classic Taha-Imran night of adventures and suspense took place. Yes, a night of unadulterated ecstasy was long overdue. A night of pure Punjabiness. A night where men realized what being a man is all about. Indeed, a night of glory...
Oh, and a night where a mama's boy finally got permission to sleep over at his friend's house. But that's another story. So, onwards...!
Two Fridays ago I crashed at T-Man's place so that we could engage in such righteous acts as car dancing to Devon and a romantic, candle-lit dinner that featured microwavable pizza with a low-carb (*cough* taste *cough*) tomato paste. The night started off with me picking up Taha from his multi-million dollar apartment complex (haha, Taha) located in the heart of downtown. We had no agenda. No goals. All we knew was that Daler Mehndi was going to be a big part of the night thanks to Taha's newly burned bhangra CD. So we began our cruise down Mich Ave where we hollered at, well, anyone really. But our targets were most definitely desis and yelling random things at them in Punjabi/desi accents. Yes, we're easily entertained, folks.
We then proceeded to the next block. But the block was dead, yo, so we continued to A-1-A Beachfront Avenue. Girls were hot wearing...
What the...? How'd Vanilla Ice get in here? Sorry, let me turn off the music......Okay, getting back to the Night of Glory...
We then proceeded to Devon for nothing more but the comforts of mango kulfis and galabjomin (sp?). So bhangra music was blaring and one of two things happen to Taha and me when this phenomena occurs: 1) We lose all sense and sensibility by succumbing to the dhol and our shoulders are at the mercy of the music or 2) We're dead silent. In fact, almost a scary silence. Why? Not because we're in some sort of odd bhangra cult (Taha...light bulb just went on! PB'n'J Cult: Punjabis Bhangra-ing and Jamming Cult. How cool is that, puthr?), but because we're imagining that we're traversing the fields of Punjab with 50 Punjabans dancing behind us while we court the Bollywood heroine.
Okay, so when we get to Tahoora (where else?!) we were totally disappointed to see that it was closed. How could it NOT be open at midnight? Jeez!! Oh well. It was more than worth it.
We finally get back to Taha's place and the dude has the audacity to challenge me to do his workout regimen for shoulders and back. Stupid Taha! I mean, granted that Taha is built like a rock, has a chest that seems like it was chiseled by Michaelangelo, biceps that are as big as his Punjabi nose, elbows that have muscles, a back that looks like he's going to carry Chitown on it, etc., but where does he have gall to throw it down with ME? The man. The myth. The legend. The sufi. The lover. The Fighter. The Punjabi.
So that's what I told myself. I mean, I really, really convinced myself of it. Thinking to myself, I was like, I am the man, the myth, the...But that was before I found out that this Taha character does 5 (that's f-i-v-e) sets (at least 10 reps) of everything. WTF? That's insane! Well, I almost made it out there alive. We started around 1am and finished about 2:30am. (And my mom thinks that we go out to the clubs! Azubillah!).
We got back and Taha hooked up the microwavable pizza, which, at 3am tasted really good and watched a movie (Batman Begins). After watching the movie and having fantasies of being Bruce Wayne/Batman, Taha told me that I was NOT going to go to sleep. So he gave me one of his swimming trunks. When I put it on we were both in agreement that I looked really hot in them (no joke). I'd post pictures if I had any. Though some of you reading this may have frequented this blog too often then, so maybe it's good that I don't have any. :)
Anyway, from 5am - 630am we swam. It was really nice, actually, and something the two of us should probably do more often. Oh, and not that I want to make this a big deal or anything, but
I KILLED Taha in a swimming race.
That makes me 3-0 over our 8 or 9 years of friendship. Holla! TAHA SUCKS! (Sorry, this is the only sport I can beat him without question. Thanks Mom for making me swim since I was a kid.) It was so bad, that the poor kid couldn't even finish the lap. Bachara, ghareeb bacha. InshaAllah, one day Taha. Just like one day I'll beat you in hoops. Oh, but before I forget, the funniest part was when we tried to race at one point and midway through, I noticed that Taha stopped. I look up after completing the lap and see Taha holding his shorts. LOL. Apparently, this guy was trying to swim so fast that he flew out of his swimming trunks. And to think, me without my camera and contact lens. ;) Yeah, I'll always regret that one fo' sho'.
Well, that pretty much concluded the night/morning. I prayed Fajr and the moment I laid down on Taha's couch I passed out. Got up around 10:30am and headed back home knowing that I had just accomplished something in my life.
And preparing for the next Taha-Imran Night of Glory.
STL, here we come, baby!
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