(All characters are purely fictional. Any similarities between them and real individuals is possibly because of reader’s bias. We can confirm that author does not watch Indian news channel)
Everyone and their granny has damning opinions on….well everyone else and their grannies. In such vitiated atmosphere, one worked-up Sikh, Mr.Harbinger Singh (the only one in this piece to be prefixed with “Mr”) seemed to be the best orator among the non-BJP populace in and around the Parliament. He thought of taking on inflation, price-rise and corruption with his bare hands. Well, he literally did and ended up depositing his finger prints rather forcefully on the cheek of Shared Power, the Maratha “strongman” (for having withstood that resounding exposition of Newton’s F=ma on his cheek).
In my capacity as a leading opinion-maker, I happened to meet a few high flying chaps to ask ‘how they felt’ in true media ishtyle, about this incident and its ramifications.
After much tracking down, the former future Prime Minister Ra.Howl Ghandy was found, not in a beggar colony in Delhi or Mumbai, but in the still-in-one-piece Indian state of UP, putting his feet up at a desolate Dalit home. The Dalit inmates were amused at a white bird’s egg like structure (a Western-style toilet made of pure “Italian” marble installed for Ra.Howl’s convenience).
Out of nowhere, Ra.Howl’s personal security guards, Harp-Pee-Hen Singh and Pro-Mode Thieve-ari pounced on me. Kicks and shouts ensued till they were convinced my black shirt wasn’t a black flag and finally allowed me to approach Ra.Howl.
Me: Why did your security guards behave like goons?
Ra.Howl: Hindu terrorism is the biggest threat to me and Diggy uncle. Why take a chance? My security roughs up everyone who approaches me. 99% of terrorist strikes can be stopped that way.
Me: Your feelings about the ‘Shared Power slap’ incident?
Ra.Howl: There is a work that my father had started, a dream he had dreamt. I come to you today saying…allow me to turn that dream into reality………..
I scooted off before he could get all Palin-esque. Atleast Palin is a woman.
Then I met the secular liberal Diva-in-Chief Bakra Datta after one of her We-The-Pimp-le shows. Strangely, she was sporting a bindi (Yes. That Yindoo symbol of female oppression).
Me: Ma’am, why a bindi suddenly?
Bakra: You know this Marwadi SiriMed. I’m showing her she’s not the only Pakistani who has the guts to wear a bindi.
Me: Oh. Anyway. CRI folks want your reaction on Shared Power slap incident. Tell me what to tell them.
Bakra: I’ve heard that somewhere. (Staring at her mobile phone) Hmmm….. Never mind. These intolerant trolls, you know. We’ve created a rowdy society where one cannot discuss cabinet berths in peace without abuse from trolls. I’m sure this man who slapped Power was a twitter troll gone violent. This is why I block all of them.
Me: Ma’am. Ever thought of this huge irony staring you in the face? You were the biggest real life troll during Gujarat 2112 riots. You’ve been blocked in real life by Man-endra Modi for the same.
Bakra: (Giving that ‘I was at Kargil, you know’ look) You’re blocked now and beneath my contempt.
Next I thought of meeting the ‘made exactly for each other’ couple Raj-Beep Turd-esai and Fagarika Hose. As I entered their studio, I saw that Fagarika was on her F-the-Nation show, running ‘divine encroacher’ Rama’s war with Ravana live. Since she was busy, I went looking for Raj-Beep. I found him with a couple of half empty Old Monk-ey bottles and the Twitter app on his iPad open. Realizing he was in one of his murderous Good-Night moods, I tiptoed back to the safety of the road where other drunk guys looked a lot less perilous.
It was my lucky day though. PAnna Baja-re, the anti-corruption crusader had just come back from his village for another fast, to the national rape-it-all Seal-ah Dig-Shit’s Dilli. I requested for a short interview which he accepted.
Me: First of all, I want to commend you on the “Ek hi maara?” question on the Shared Power slap incident. It cracked me up. What a way to humiliate!
PAnna Baja-re: Thanks. I thought that comment would be apt for breaking my mauna-vrat. Cage-ri-Ball, my aide, sadly told me to withdraw it and issue a customary condemnation of the slap.
Me: Sad. Why doesn’t Cage-ri-Ball let you use your foot freely around your oral orifice?
PAnna Baja-re: Ah. He’s a control-freak. But he has his uses. Anyway. You look very tired. My secular buddy Imam Bukhari’s just next door. Can I ask him to get some Sherbet for you?
Me: Yes please. I’ve had a tiring day. Just saw the Old Monk-ey guzzling Raj-Beep Turd-esai and hoped he would serve a couple of drinks, but it was not to be.
PAnna Baja-re: (Gives that village rustic stare and rolls up his sleeves) Did you drink there?
Me: No. Raj-Beep was drinking though.
PAnna Baja-re: (Takes out his phone and makes a call) Arey Cage-ri-Ball beta… I forgot to get my wooden club from the village. Will you please get that here for me? Also, check if there are poles near Raj-Beep Turd-esai’s home, please.
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