As your favourite General Twitter, I flew on a carpet to heaven, only to bring you the true story of my BFF, the fallen al-Qaeda leader Ayman al-Zawahiri, in his own words. This is a dispatch from heaven. Over to my BFF.
Yes, I can now confirm that I am dead. But was I alive? You wouldn’t know as neither did I.
In my life people used to lovingly call me AAZ because it took them longer to say Ayman al-Zawahiri. This is much like how my friend Osama bin Laden was nicknamed OBL. I liked calling him Obama bin Laden, though. I am now reunited with my old friend whom I lost in 2011 in Pakistan. What better time than the Friendship Day to join OBL after eleven years? Brothers in life, brothers in death! This is the new Muslim Brotherhood. We are back together and from the heaven we begin our new jihad. Beware world, our killing spree isn’t over yet.
Before you read any more theories about how I, as the CEO of terror group al-Qaeda, was killed by Joe Biden, let me walk you through my own story of love, lust and betrayal. On the fateful night of 31 July, just as I was getting ready to enjoy a hot stone massage in my balcony, I was hit by a missile out of nowhere. Next thing I know, I had left this world with no happy ending. Such is life. Well, there are no happy ever afters in this or any other world.
Also read: Planned Kargil war before my birth. And I was chasing Raveena Tandon: Pakistani Gen Twitter
Business of guesswork
Joe Biden thought that by eliminating me with Hellfire missile, he will send me to hell. I defeated his purpose by landing in heaven. I laugh at the United States’ naivety of even thinking that after planning the killing of Americans throughout the world, I would end up anywhere but in heaven. In some sort of a eulogy, Biden said: “No matter how long it takes, no matter where you hide, if you are a threat to our people, the US will find you and take you out.” Only if Biden knew I was hiding in plain sight all this time at the house of respected New York Times columnist Sirajuddin Haqqani. Now, what problem did Biden or anyone else for that matter have if Haqqani and I were left to enjoy tiramisu on the balcony while he brainstormed ideas with me for his next NYT column? Jealous much?
Like millions of my lovers, the Taliban are still in shock of my precisely timed death. No wonder they are telling the world that they never knew Zawahiri was in their city (Kabul). I don’t blame them; even I didn’t know I was in their city till I was and then I wasn’t. Wish someone had paid this much attention to me while I was still alive.
There is also a lot of interest in finding out who sold me out for a $25 million bounty. At this point, it could be Afghanistan, Pakistan or even myself who helped Biden kill me. We are all in need of dollar flow.
The speculation about my journey continues. Some say I came to Kabul from Pakistan’s Waziristan; others argue I was working out of the West Wing of the White House. Truth is stranger than fiction. I can’t Instagram my holidays openly but I last vacationed in Pakistan. I was called by the army chief to play chess with him; he needed my advice on how to drive Pakistan’s democracy while keeping the gear neutral. With my vast experience on my CV of planning political assassinations and terrorism, democracy was just a cakewalk.
Also read: You won’t get rid of me Pakistan – I am your General, Top Gun, donkey farmer
Poems, not porn
Unlike OBL, I don’t leave behind an archive of porn. What I do leave behind are my thoughts on human emotions. In all my years as the second-best terrorist, I was asked by my lieutenants why I wasted so much time getting education and becoming an eye surgeon, when I could have become a bigger global terrorist. I told them that if you don’t like the way the world functions, and if change is out of your reach, then you become an eye doctor who changes the view of the world. This is the first chapter of my jihadi training manual. I urge my young followers to remember that education is important—only then can you find your true passion just like I found mine, which was terrorism.
I am no poet but I do poetry. I was the William Wordsworth that no one recognised. My poem for Indian hijab girl Muskaan was the beginning of my end as a poet. It is the Muslim youth of Afghanistan, India and Pakistan that I want to appeal to with my raps next. Now I understand why al-Qaeda lost to the Islamic State as a terror group. I came in the wrong line of work. Wait for my biopic starring Emraan Hashmi to understand my life.
For now, there won’t be any video messages from me on Eid and other special occasions, for death actually did us part. Stay tuned for the World Trade Centre attack anniversary video that I recorded just before I was hit by the missile.
This is part of an occasional, irreverent take on Pakistani issues by General Twitter. The real name of the authors will not be disclosed because they don’t want to be taken too seriously. Views are personal.