Personal Anecdote: Dated: About 1957
This is a small fragment of my memory that may inform the previous post.
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I was schooled, in my teens, in an English 'Public School' originally founded for 'Orphans of the Clergy'. It cured me of religiosity for ever.
One day, my German language teacher, Dr Kahn, got very annoyed with me about some mis-declension of High German verbs, and roared, (or meant to:) "You bloody little..." but got tongue-tied, so it came out as "You bloo....ggghhh!". I was nicknamed 'Blog' from then on. I'm glad the word has now been neologised and gained some respectability.
A contemporary of mine at that place was Feroze, scion of a wealthy Muhajir Pakistani family. He and I became friends, because we were both outstandingly bad at sports.
On really bad winter days, when the sports fields were covered with too much snow to play even 80-per-side soccer, we were sent on cross-country runs. So Feroze, 'Wog' and I, 'Blog', competed to come in last.
I won, of course, because I could hide out at the village pub on the way, while Feroze, a good Muslim, couldn't.
He later distinguished himself by winning, as a Muslim, the coveted Divinity/Scripture prize given by that supposedly Christian Dotheboys Hall.
I consider myself, of course, a totally qualified expert on Pakistan, following that acquaintance of half a century ago.
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