For a brief period in the late ‘90s, I was a Pakistani medical student. At no point during my few years in Islamabad did a comely CIA officer ever have sex with me to procure information about my terrorist uncle who was presumed dead but actually still alive, as Carrie Mathison is doing with Aayan in the current season of Homeland.
As I watch these episodes and recall my time in Pakistan, I think, “Does this kid have any idea how lucky he is?” Because when I was a dorky Pakistani medical student I never once had a super-hot American spy try to get in my pants.
Believe me – I was more than willing to hand out dangerous secrets about my terrorist uncle…as long as my virginity went with them. But I never had the opportunity.
My inclination toward treason was not a political statement – it was the mere fact that, when I was a young medical student in Pakistan, I had an unquenchable fire in my khasia and a luli that stayed harder than trigonometry.
And this was a problem because, when it comes to having sex outside of marriage, medical school in Islamabad makes Bob Jones University look like Vassar (hey, there’s not much else to do in Poughkeepsie).
But at no point during this period did a sexy gori operative seduce me into sharing secrets of my family’s terror cell.
Instead, I spent my sexual prime alone in my dorm room, humping a beanbag that I imagined to be my classmate, Adeela. Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean a beanbag? (It was corduroy.)
This was, you’ll recall, during that period of my so-called life when I was a Pakistani medical student.
What I’m saying here is that I hope Aayan knows how good he’s got it. Because – believe you me – I tried my damnedest to attract the attention of sexy and mentally-ill US spies.
I hung out in bars frequented by beautiful lady moles. I cruised Craigslist Islamabad’s “Missed Connections” section. I walked up and down the street outside the American Embassy wearing a t-shirt that said “Will Trade Terrorist Secrets for Woman Sex.”
But did a young Valerie Plame ever tempt me with her sexy infidel chota? Nahin.
Like Aayan, I tried to be devout. Unlike Aayan, I never had the opportunity to express my carnal curiosity with a beautiful woman person. I was thus left to my fantasies, a practice I kept
secret by utilizing an old jraab that could eventually stand up by itself.
Sell out my family for sex? Of course I would have done that. At age 22, I would have moved to Moscow for a whiff of MILFy Elizabeth Jennings’ dirty leg warmers.
I would have killed for the mere glimpse of an U.S. spy’s chhaati. I would have sold all my worldly belongings for a quick feel on a big ol’ American chotar. CIA, NSA, FBI, special forces – anything vaguely American and 51% female would have sufficed.
Because I was a lonely Pakistani medical student, and I badly craved to have sexual relations. The nuance of the why’s and how’s did not concern me.
Carrie’s critics claim that her sexual manipulation of Aayan is evidence of her unsympathetic narcissism. I don’t see the problem there.
Sociopathic detachment? Bring it on.
Near occasion of infanticide? Hey, we all have bad days.
2X home-wrecking marriage predator? On the other hand, she did go to Princeton…
As a lonely Pakistani medical student, I would have been an enormously appreciative beneficiary of her Ivy League-educated sexuality, even if it sprung from a well of ulterior motives and bipolarity.
So where was my Clozapine-munching CIA operative determined to make me a man?
Nowhere. And I was left to tend to my kaylaa all by my lonesome.
I went through this period (as a medical student in Pakistan) studying human anatomy in textbooks, but it would be years before I saw an actual furj. How’s that for irony?
Am I jealous of Aayan? Very much.
Yes, I know he’s got some competition from her US colleagues, but Quinn is just being cock-blocky because he’s jealous and misunderstood Carrie when she asked him for “help with some wet work.”
Anyway, she’ll probably screw him too. Eventually.
In the end, I moved back to the USA, where I resumed being white and got an MBA. I just didn’t see the sexual future in remaining a Pakistani medical student.
Little did I know…