No More Play

News: Playboy, the iconic purveyor of female anatomy tucked between epic interviews and investigative features, decided to can its famed nude photographs. The magazine that once interviewed Jawahar Lal Nehru is giving up its nudity cachet because public has easy access to smut on the internet. It makes no sense to flog the female anatomy in print. The internet is doing the job admirably.Moreover, with teenage boys transitioning straight into adulthood, dudes don't need nudes.

Reaction: On the Buck Stops Here, Ms Dutt conducted a debate on the rise in objectification of women where ten Bollywood directors returned their Manikchand Filmfare awards. Rajdeep traveled to the Hefner Mansion to ask if the reader will now read Playboy for news, and if this is what Achey Din was all about. Arnab invited Pakistan Army veterans to debate if this clean up act by Playboy was a publicity stunt. Some nationalists went door-to-door to smear ink on everyone at home who was watching Pak panelists on TimesNow. It was a mark of respect for our soldiers, they said. Since media decides what we debate, our  leaders also commented on this landmark event.

RG: Bhaiya, magazines Kiske Liye Hoti Hai? Unke Liye Jo Suit Boot Pehente Hai. Poor people don’t need magazines - they use their imagination. Ye opposition wale are saying that Nehru ji gave an interview to Playboy in October 1963 issue. Why, even Steve Jobs gave an interview to this magazine. My grandfather never gave a formal-sit-down - his views were collated from several speeches. I don’t believe in formal interviews after I gave one to that nude, err, dude who you call India’s conscience keeper. Since this government assumed power, there has been a rise in dirty magazines. People are reading them and killing each other. Pradhanmantri Ki Baat Mein Vazan Hona Chaiye. Why doesn’t our PM speak on this issue?

NM: Mitron, I want to tell you that the decision to do away with dirty pictures is a part of our Swach Bharat campaign. Our Goa government in 2013 had already rejected Playboy’s proposal to open a beach bar. My good friend, Playboy CEO Scott Flanders said, “Ever since we got rid of nudity on our website in August, traffic has quadrupled.”  Mitron, 62 years after the first issue came out, I managed to stop the nudes. I also suggested Scott to visit the temple Mark visited and look, his sales quadrupled. Aap Bataiye Ki Ye Band Hona Chahiye Tha Ya Nahin? When I go abroad, the whole world comes to meet me. Why? Not because of me. But because of Sawa Sau Crore Bharitya who do not believe in any state of undress. Tell me, why should one brand rake in more than one billion dollars in revenues annually? We believe in Sabka Saath, Sabka Vikas. All magazines should get equal opportunity. Main Aap Se Poochta Hoon, Bataiye, Ye Band Hona Chaiye Ya Nahin? (Orgasmic crowd screams, yes, yes, yes). Let them clean up, if needed, we will Make in India.

AK: Doston, the magazine’s editor Cory Jones says, “The decision to dispense with nudity has disappointed the 12 year old in current me.” I will make sure that the 12 year old in Cory is not disappointed as a result of centre’s policy. I’ve always been a fan of this magazine since my IIT days. We’ve grown up on its in-depth interviews . After the forthcoming Bihar erections, err, elections, I will invite Hugh Hefner ji to publish whatever he wants in Delhi. After all, Delhi is the  pure and pious capital of India according to Google trends. If the center cannot, I will provide every opportunity to a magazine that revolutionized engineering colleges. But, hum bhrashtachar bardasht nahi karenge. If any minister is caught taking money for publishing nude pictures, I will sack him on live TV along with the live visuals of what he was doing with the magazine. 

MY: What is the point of a clean Playboy? Boys will be boys. Those who do not have access to internet also deserve vicarious thrill. I’ll ask my minister to raise this issue at the UN.

SY: Kisne Mahila Ka Body Nahin Dekha Hai? Sabne Dekha Hai, then what is the problem?

The Phantom Source - The Ghost Who Talks

Back in the eighties, there used be something called the ‘Foreign Hand’. On the political terra firma, every second riot or disturbance was attributed to this invisible ‘Foreign Hand’. Today, social media and phone cameras have ensured greater transparency. However, there is another entity that remains as elusive, as mysterious and as intangible as the ‘Foreign Hand’. In media parlance, it is called the ‘Source’. In Hindi language, we know it as the ‘Sutra’. Not the erotic Kama variety, but the esoteric media archetype. Such is the power of the source that we instinctively believe whatever comes, ‘Sutron Ke Hawale Se’. 

There are many ways to quote a source. ‘According to sources’ is one of them. ‘Reportedly’ is equally effective. As is ‘Sutron Ki Maane To’. Likewise, there are different kinds of sources. The source behind Bollywood grapevine is rather innocuous. It tells us how Ranbir Kapoor went down on his knees as Katrina Kaif rang in her 32nd birthday. How Anushka and Virat enjoyed at the ‘Sabi Sabi Earth Lodge’, a safari destination in South Africa. Or how Kat-Bir were spotted in the picturesque city of Prague, even though mama Neetu disapproved. Only a source can read mama Neetu’s mind. This gossip peddling variety ranges from celebrity drivers, fellow air travelers, avid fans, hotel staff and jealous contemporaries.

The political strain of the source is far more lethal. This is because for Phantom Source - The Ghost Who Walks, err Talks, with great power comes zero responsibility. Since the power invested in this source is invisible, he delivers a solid punch leaving a permanent ‘skull mark’ on those perceived as evil doers. Moreover, with no accountability, when a chain of pen wielding sources get linked to a mighty source called the politician, it can be deadly. Biased tongues, they say, can be worse than wicked hands.

Like Spiderman, the source can easily spurt malicious gooey liquid that allows media men to swing between two political buildings, climb political staircases and demolish reputations. With more and more media houses being owned by politicians, no points for guessing how unbiased the sources are. Because the purr in the ear often comes from a self-serving club of mutual back scratchers. 

Given that desperate times call for desperate sources, engineering students can also act as a Source. Whatever and whenever the nation wants to know - the source obliges. That Shashi Tharoor was pulled up by his boss for breaching party discipline was revealed by a source. That Mr. Tharoor was asked to stand outside the classroom with a finger on his lips, well, wasn’t exposed. And only the source knows if it was Arun Jaitley who revealed discomforting information about Sushma Swaraj?

Moreover, in the times of ephemeral news, unapologetic media and short public memory, who cares even if the source goofed up?
Not difficult to plant a doubt by placing a quaint little question mark towards the end, is it? Was Advani’s Emergency barb aimed at Modi? Did Amitabh demand crores to endorse a social campaign? The accused can cry hoarse by issuing endless clarifications, but the mission is accomplished. Bade araam se.

Finally, according to totally unreliable alcoholic sources, Mulayam is likely to be nominated for Nobel Peace for his well meaning ‘sudhar jao’ advice. Reportedly, ‘Selfie le le’, song from Bajrangi Bhaijaan is likely to win an Oscar in the music category. And Twinkle Khanna’s latest book is likely to fetch a Booker this year, sources say.
If anything sounds farfetched, simply add 'reportedly' in the beginning, or a question mark towards the end. Sab hazam ho zayega. 

Image Courtesy: www.comicvine.com

Hail Humility

Breathtaking. February was indeed a month where cupid played games on Delhi’s political terra firma. Wonder why the media couldn’t predict Delhi’s affair with the Mufflerman. But the media is always right, always number one, and always sabse tez. They aren’t answerable to anyone. So, what really happened? More importantly, why did the politically aware Delhi-ite fall for the fish rather than the fishing rod?
Given that we are wiser after an election, fingers are being pointed at Modi’s vanity, Bedi’s senility, Kejriwal’s humility, Sonia’s divinity, Rahul’s naivety, Sadhvi’s crudity and Amit Shah’s obesity. Well, only for the lack of another rhyming word. According to unreliable sources, here are a few lessons in wooing the voter.

Cute Quotient

Whether it was cute Raghav Chadha, polite Yogendra Yadav or oh-sho sweet Atishi Marlena, television viewers loved the breath of fresh air after tolerating fetid fumes emanating from conceited spokespersons. It is now amusing to watch BJP and Congress spokespersons dressed in a cloak of humility, addressing each other as ‘my respected opponent'. All because arrogance led to the fall of Humpty Dumpty. From what the sources reveal, Congress is in talks with Alia Bhatt to up the cute quotient on television debates. Of course, these lessons in humility and cuteness are not for the soft spoken Derek O’Brien or his affable leader.

Mush Mush 

Image: Twitter

 One of the abiding images in the aftermath of the unprecedented win was the picture where Arvind was seen hugging his wife. When he embraced his demure wife in a fit of joy, it made for poignant viewing. The entire social media went ‘Awww’. Ever since, politicians are being asked to hold hands of their spouses, caress their hair, or play with kids to create an image of a caring leader. By any measure, this is not to say that future CMs should be seen locking lips in public. Err, no. That would be a bit too much for our sanskriti to swallow. Quick to course correct, Modi ji was seen playing with Mulayam’s grandson at a family wedding. So much for image building. Or the budget session. Whatever.

Two-Outfit Theory

Our IIT-ian made sure that he wore only two sweaters – wine red and navy blue. Consequently, some politicians have decided to wear only two outfits during the election season. Poor guys, they don’t know that Arvind owns a dozen similar looking red and blue sweaters. This was a well guarded secret known only to Shazia Filmi. However, puncturing this theory, an analyst from West Bengal has warned that the positive political dividends of crumpled clothes and bathroom slippers are ephemeral. They should not be seen in isolation.

Those Who Live In Glass Houses…

It was funny when Mr. Unaccounted Money Bags asked AAP about that hundred rupee note. Just as it was hilarious when the Congress questioned Modi about his suit. What is it that they say about glass houses and throwing stones? The rules of the game have changed.

No Privileges, No Full Page Adverts

After our Kaushambi boy made a strong pitch against Lal Batti, some politicians have decided to attend a rehab centre to learn to give up the red light and other privileges. There are talks of replacing luxury cars with rickety Wagon Rs to strike the right notes. Won’t be difficult because who wants a Lal Batti on a Wagon R?
Politicians are God’s gift to mankind. But unlike our Tamil counterparts, Delhi-ites, it seems are repulsed by full page advertisement displaying a politician’s picture. No, thank you. We’d rather drool over pictures of a filmy award ceremony. 

Reality vs Humility

 
That Delhi belongs to Dil-wallas was obvious when they forgave Arvind for all his bumbling. Recognizing the power of humility and apology, Nitish Kumar began on the right note when he thanked all those present at his swearing-in ceremony. The good learner that he is, he is now ready to hug his alleged communal tormentor. Unreliable ssources reveal that Ajay Maken has ordered loads of ‘I’m Sorry’ cards to be hand delivered personally with the message, ‘Sincere apologies from a very small man’. 

A week, they say is a long time in politics. Even as I write, AAPs credibility is at stake owing to one mans egocentricity. Who said it is easy to wear a cap of humility in unstable polity. The cap either doesn’t fit or keeps falling unceremoniously. Such is reality.

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Laugh And Think

First make them laugh and then make them think.

Sarcasm, they say is the lowest form of wit. But satire, an indirect form of critique makes the point without offending, um, err...almost. A friend of mine masters the art of writing satire. Distinct from sarcasm, he is able to draw attention to the ridiculousness of the situation with his wit. Given our politicians, there is no dearth of ridiculous situations, is there? Also, given the thin skin of our politicians, satire works for writers like me who itch to direct their outrage towards more enjoyable form of critique. While most readers get the point, there are those who get offended. They are either too self-righteous, or too pompous, or too self-obsessed, or too angry, or too prissy. Or plain ignorant. There is little point in writing satire if you have to offer explanations to those who have Ms M Bannerjee's sense of humor. Or  Ms R Sawant's taste in literature.
Regardless, I am learning the nuances by writing more such wonderful articles, because I am a modest  person with much to be modest about.

The problem of self-righteousness, among other things, is not exclusive to India. Despite mastering the art of mocking without ridiculing (Saturday Night Live, The Daily Show), not everyone in the west is able to grab this genre. This reminds me of a recent example when internet humorist Jay Branscomb posted the following picture on Facebook with the caption: “Disgraceful photo of recreational hunter happily posing next to a triceratops he just slaughtered. Please share so the world can name and shame this despicable man.” 

These reactions will give you a glimpse of what I am saying.

“Steven Spielberg, I’m disappointed in you. I’m not watching any of your movies again ANIMAL KILLER.”
“Disgraceful. No wonder dinosaurs became extinct…He should be in prison.”
“I don’t care who he is, he should not have shot that animal.” 

Back home, when Alia Bhatt featured in a spoof called Genius of The Year, reactions to her spoof proved that appreciating comedy is not everyone’s cup of tea. 
 Going by the comments, the video was "all scripted...so she knew the answers. Alia is otherwise still dumb.”
One brainy soul said that the video "takes her stupidity to a whole new level”.
It is obvious that there is a huge demand for Brain Enlargement Therapy institutes in our country for those who are better never than late when it comes to spoofs or satire.

On a personal note, writing satire has its own drawbacks. The other day my mother called me for the nth time to know about what she wanted to cook or wear (I don’t remember). And I don’t remember what I said in a bout of irritation, but what I do remember is that she said: Writing satire is making you sarcastic. Her words stayed with me.
So I asked my son. “Granny thinks lampooning politicians has made me acerbic. Is it true?”
He shrugged. “Why don’t you ask dad?”
This boy should have joined politics, I tell you.
“Is writing satire reflecting in my communication?” I asked my husband. "Please be honest. Dinner shall be served regardless."
“Not always," he said. "Sometimes.”
Either these people don’t appreciate humor or this blog has made me a cynical person. I was not sure. Because I caught the father-son exchange smiles.

Today, on a Sunday morning, I presented myself with clinching evidence. When asked  how I was feeling after an uneasy night, I said, " I would say that I am feeling fine. But that would be a lie. " 

Mocking a situation, it seems, works beyond the confines of the family. Within the family, lampooning will NOT make anyone laugh. Or  think. 

Sholay - A 3D Sequel

Fade in. The sequel begins.

After ruling Ramgarh for over sixty years, Thakur Balwant Singh is now complacent and arrogant. As it happens, decades of unchallenged power can be intoxicating.

Once prosperous, the people of Ramgarh are suffering as Thakur’s men are busy looting coal, spectrum and the aam villager. His haveli in Lutyens’ Ramgarh is only for sycophants who sing paeans in his praise. Dour and uncommunicative, Thakur does not speak. When he speaks, it is to defend the indefensible. His silence seems a better option.Those close to Thakur, seek refuge in belligerence. Moreover, an aging Thakur is not in touch with Ramgarh’s changing demography.
As a result, Thakur anoints Chote Thakur as the caretaker of Ramgarh. But the villagers have had enough of Thakur and his family.They laugh when Thakur says, "Thakur Ka Haath, Aam Admi Ke Saath." For they know that Thakur lost his hands after 2009.
There are scenes where Ramgarh-wallas ask in hushed tones, “Why is Chote Thakur so precisely the opposite of his predecessors?” The answer eludes everyone - including the reluctant Chote Thakur."

Meanwhile challenge comes in the form of Babbar from Gujarat. Far away from Ramgarh, in his small village, Babbar is the new face of governance. His name is synonymous with development, literacy and empowerment. When residents of Ramgarh come to know about Babbar’s management skills, they decide to invite him to Ramgarh.

Clearly the wheel had turned full circle. 

Realizing that chickens were coming home to roost, Thakur begins scaring his own people. “Be very very scared,” says one of the ex-environment lieutenants of Thakur. “Be very scared of this Mass Murderer, Tea Seller, Hitler…”
Unfazed by Thakur's criticism, Babbar decides to challenge Chote Thakur. Anticipating a bitter climax, he anoints Samba as the poll manager of UP.



In this cocktail of conflict, flashes of comic relief come from a handful of Soorma Bhopalis, the spokespersons of Thakur from Madhya Pradesh and Stephens.

As the reel rolls, the arrival of Babbar looks imminent. Thakur tries to please villagers and throws a few crumbs( gas cylinders, food security etc). But villagers refuse to be treated as beggars. When doles prove ineffective, Thakur begins his search for Jai and Veeru.

Guess what? He finds them in Ramgarh. One day, Thakur discovers Jai and Veeru riding their Wagon R in the by lanes of Ramgarh. Dressed in a muffler and sandals, angry young Jai is a rebel with a cause. When he speaks you sense his honesty and integrity. Nothing else matters. His sidekick, Veeru, is a poet known for his poetic prowess.

Interval. 

www.firstpost.com

This is when the two leading ladies – Delhi and Amethi, brighten the movie with their presence.

Despite striking features, Delhi looks oddly vulnerable. Once a young and sassy woman, Delhi is repeatedly raped as Thakur’s men remain helpless bystanders. Several scars and dark spots have blemished her pretty face. Nevertheless, a cynical Jai is attracted towards Delhi. A tender yet violent romance brews between Delhi and Jai.

When Amethi’s character comes alive in the second half of the movie, Veeru woos her in style. He has eyes only for her. Like the conventional Bollywood heroine, Amethi spurns his advances initially. Each time Veeru faces rotten eggs, he croons, “Koi Haseena Jab rooth Jati Hai To Aur Bhi Haseen Ho Jaati Hai.” 

Unlike the original, characters in this 3D sequel are complicated. Innumerable side stories and dirty stings confuse the audience. And then there is the all pervasive media. 

Aadhe Thakur ke saath hai, aadhe Babbar ke saath, aur baki Jai-Veeru ke saath. Basically, they are with no one, but their spicy speculative stories.

The toll of this bitter conflict is telling on the citizens of Ramgarh. Most of them look like Rahim Chacha– confused and dazed.They are asking, "Itna shor kyon hai bhai?"

Want more?

Well, I had to take a loo break at this point. I just hope that the movie ends on a happy note.But there is no real ending, is there? It is just the place where we stop the story.


Picture Curtesy: photogallery. indiatimes .com 

Who lit the fire?

Image Courtesy Facebook

Promotional Panga!

A recent survey reveals that Comedy Nights with Kapil, a comedy show on Colors, is the best platform for any promotional activity. The survey was based on an on-line poll conducted by a Patiala based Sidhu Fan Club. No wonder, King Khan’s appearance on the show resulted in the stupendous popularity of Chennai Express. Why, even Grand Masti was a grand success after the charismatic Vivek Oberoi graced the sets of Comedy Nights.

Bad may be bacterial, but vulgar is viral.

Reportedly, Indra Kumar, the producer of Grand Masti has announced a sequel called ‘Grrr-andest Masti’, which will be India’s official entry for Oscars in 2014. This was confirmed by Goutam Gosh, the Chairman of the film selection committee.

In an attempt to tap the unmatched popularity of Comedy Nights, Arvind Gupta, the BJP’s IT Cell Head, expressed  Modi’s desire to grace the comedy show. Reports suggest that host, Kapil Sharma was hesitant but relented after India’s Quote Express, Navjot Singh Sidhu threatened to go on a hunger strike. Insiders reveal that Kapil Sharma is eager to fight elections next year. He dreams of being the next Information and Broadcasting minister. Be that as it may, in so far as Mr. Manish Tiwari is concerned, this is a travesty of constitution beyond the jurisprudence of the esteemed parliamentarians, invoking an overreach of ambitions sought by the host of a juvenile comedy show...

Phew, whatever. It so happened that the news of Mr. Modi’s promotional idea reached the Congress Headquarters. Almost immediately a mysterious caller called Kapil and requested (read threatened) him to invite Rahul Ji on the show. Owing to huge political pressure, Kapil agreed to accommodate both NaMo and RaGa on a special episode to be aired on 2nd October 2014.

However, much before the show, a massive fire broke out on the sets of Comedy Nights at Filmcity in Goregaon on September 25, 2013. A Bollywood birdie feels the fire could have something to do with Khan rivalry and SRK’s recurrent presence on the show. Alternatively, Vivek Oberoi’s appearance and the subsequent success of Grand Masti could have ignited envious sparks. If you are unaware of the ‘Vivek-Bhai’ connection, you don’t deserve to read this any further.Nevertheless, the most credible story doing the rounds is that Kapil himself was responsible for the fire on his sets. Stick with me and I will tell you why! 

24th September, 2013

Rahul calls Kapil for clarifications. The prospect of appearing on television, the presence of his arch rival, and a live audience is a triple whammy for him.

Rahul: Boss, are you sure, there is no debate?

Kapil: Pucca. No debate and no speech.

Rahul: No questions on FDI, Fiscal Deficit or Foreign Policy?

Kapil: No, SirJi. At best, some silly girls will ask you, “Will you marry me?” or “What is Sonia Ji looking for in a daughter-in-law?” You can always say marriage is a state of the mind. I will take it from there.

Rahul: (Rolling his sleeves) Sound’s good.

After Rahul hangs up, Modi decides to call Kapil.

Modi: Finally, I will get a chance to debate with Rahul?

Kapil: No sir, the show is not about debates.

Modi: No debate? Okay, I will give a speech.

Kapil: No speech either. Sir, promotion is done via dance.

Modi: Dance?

Kapil: Sir, don’t worry. We’ll play Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram. You just have to sway a little with the audience.

Modi: Mahatma’s favorite bhajan? Good.

Kapil: No, not that...

The call is disconnected. Kapil is unable to explain that ‘Raghupati Raghav Raja Ram’ is a song from Krish 3. He even forgets to tell  about Dadi’s inebriated humour, juvenile jokes and her cross legged routine. Worse, bua’s amorous advances, particularly aimed at bachelors could jeopardize his chances of getting an election ticket. What if irrepressible Sidhu begins his volley of idiotic quotes, much to the discomfort of his guests?Above all, what if Rahul tears his script calling it Nonsense!

Disaster!

25th September, 2013

Unable to handle the idea of two towering personalities on his show, Kapil decides to destroy his own set. The show, they say, will resume after elections in 2014.



(This is a work of fiction. Readers are advised not to confuse this with real incidents.)

Phantom Forces

Oscar-winning director Ben Affleck will star as Batman in Warner Bros. ‘Man of Steel’ sequel. Super-heroes, phantom forces and invisible crusaders have always fascinated us. Fortunately, we have our own phantom forces that remain invisible, like Mr. India. So lethal is their influence that they can smash reputations and governments alike. If you happen to meet them, do say hello but don’t scream, “Aila, Superman!” They prefer to remain anonymous. 

The Clean Chit Giver: The final arbitrator of who is guilty and who is not, this man who issues Clean Chits is the President of the self-serving club of mutual back scratchers. He flashes a clean chit much before the investigation begins.The uncles, the son-in-laws and Godmen accused of assaulting young girls are given a clean chit in advance.

Do: Do ask him for a handful. You can use clean chits each time the traffic cop says, ‘Gaddi side ko le'.
Don’t: Don’t mess with him. You risk being crushed by a speeding truck or a sand lorry.

The Source: When the news anchor waves that sheet of paper and exclaims, “Your channel has proof,” you realize the might of the Source. The Source helps our news anchors to bash Pakistan, to seek answers from the mighty and to reveal any wheeling dealing. There is something about the source that spooks politicians across party lines. The Source is, I am told, visible only to the likes of Arnab and Rajdeep who view him through a red glass a la Mr. India. A source can. But you can’t. You can’t pigeon hole this source, that is. Is he a man, or a woman? No one knows.

Do: If you meet him, do thank the Source for exposing hidden skeletons.
Don’t: Don’t waste your time in details. Basically, the Source works in the interest of aam aadmi, so just let him/her be.

The File Keeper: If there ever was a phantom force that guarded the BJP Khand, the Congress Empire, the TMC Queendom or the SP Pradesh, it is the guy who keeps a watch on files needed by the investigating agencies. When sensitive files disappear in thin air (vanish or stolen by ghosts) one has to acknowledge the power of the File Keeper. The television anchors can hyperventilate all they like, but this formidable protector of files trumps all. No files, no case. Simple.

Do: Do admire the impenetrable air of confidence of this operative. News is that the guardian of the missing files (the additional secretary in the coal ministry) is exactly the same person who is chairing the inter-ministerial committee that has been set up to trace the missing files. Call it irony if you like. Read Here
Don’t: Don’t bash him. What Saboo was to Chacha Chaudhary, The File Keeper is to Chacha Jaiswal. The File Keeper simply follows instructions. His weak spot? A transfer order to a Maoist infested area.


Ben Affleck can play Batman, but he can never match our phantom forces. Remember 'The Foreign Hand' that used to instigate riots in the past? The same 'Foreign Hand' is now smashing our Rupee. Bang on!

Cupid Strikes

(With several hate-mails doing the North-South rounds, it’s time for some fictional love across the borders.)

Hello,

When two fearless and single souls engage in an endearing war of words, then surely it is destiny playing cupid behind the scenes. Please don’t trample my tender outpourings with heavy boots…err sandals of reason, for this letter comes straight from my heart.

Living under house arrest here in UK, I have been watching many Hindi films with English subtitles. Sorry, but it took a Hindi movie for me to recognize your feelers veiled in threats. You see, while watching, ‘Pagla kahin ka’ I realized that an archetype of a Bollywood coy heroine, before falling head over heels (that reminds me of your sandals) in love for the hero fondly calls him awaara , paglaa, or deewana. Ahh...so you called me mad out of love.

So far my exposes have evoked either a silence or a denial, but not a single soul organized a press conference to label me a mad man. Thank God you did! For that’s when I saw you on TV.
The smoldering eyes, the enviable duskiness, the olive skin, the cropped hair and the pink dress have resulted in many a sleepless nights. I toss and turn as I imagine myself slipping sandals on your dainty feet. People call me a whistle blower but honestly for you, I am ready to blow the whistle until my last breath.

I have missed much in life as I did not have a companion but now I am smitten by your adorable anger. I promise to taste food, water and air before every morsel you eat, every sip you take and every breath you inhale. I sense a fire burning on both sides. Why else would you want me in Agra mental asylum, in Mayaland?

Together we will expose your opponents, strip them and make sure that they are writhing on a mat. Together we will create a proud Aussie Dalit legacy, one sandstone elephant at a time. Together we shall travel in your private jet and collect exotic footwear from around the world.
Quite coincidentally, as I write this letter the music wafting from my TV has a baritone voice reciting, “Kabhie kabhie mere dil mein khayal aata hai, ki jaise….”

Longing for the next opportunity to meet and hoping for an asylum. Even the mental one will do for I am in love over your celebrated heels.

Ever yours,

Mayasmitten
Julian Assange

Badle Ki Aag

If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? William Shakespeare

So you thought Anna was our nemesis. You thought you could hold a gun and force us to make suicidal laws according to your whims and fancies. And worse. You mocked us, belittled us and tarnished reputations. The movement is over. You have had enough fun at our expense. It is payback time folks.

That puny little Kejriwal, the angry young man will rue the day he initiated a movement against the state. The state which gave him a job and a loan of 80,000 rupees for a computer, can also give him sleepless nights. We sent a police team to his village to unearth his past wrongdoings. The police discovered that at age sixteen, Kejriwal once winked at a local girl. The police was unable to find that girl. Nevertheless, the police is now framing charges for misappropriate behavior. After all, the law has to take its own course.

And that theatrical ‘ghoonghat act’ by Kiran Bedi! She is looking for a role in a Yash Chopra movie or what? If only she was in service, she would be transferred to a place where no media has ever gone before. Bahut ho gaya, masti mazaak. It is time for law to take its own course. The governance might be in deep freeze but the revenge machinery works overtime. Behind the cultivated stoicism of ours, lurks a brute force. A force which neither forgives nor forgets.

What irked us most was the tipsy actor who called us ‘Ganwaar’. We are not sitting ducks that any common man can come and spit on the spotless khadi. We have set up a committee to research Hindi lexicons. The submission report tells us that ‘Ganwaar’ is a crossbreed of country lout and country bumpkin. That is beyond derogatory. All the mumbled apologies from Om Puri will not save his face (from being re-arranged).
Just like Salman, we let our fists do the talking.

And very soon that winky wonky Baba will disappear on his island in Scotland. Never to be seen again. Hasn’t his trusted aid vanished ? Being lawyers, the Bhushan duo are tough nuts to crack. Don’t be surprised if more such CDs come out from Amar jis potent arsenal.

What we are doing is not undemocratic. Remember what the biggest democracy in the world did to Julian Ass-ange, the father of Wikileaks? They slapped charges of rape. So what if the lady who was raped was sleeping? Its worse - raping a woman in deep slumber. And ever since that Ass-ange is running from one hiding to another.

But we are not America. We will not stoop to such levels. We play fair. We will do nothing to the writer of this blog post. If  she is found missing, try searching Tihar. She must have missed paying her electricity bill on time.After all, the law has to take its own course.

FAST AND FURY

An Open Letter by the Politicians to the Civil Society

Dear Civil Society,

This letter sincerely urges you to stop flirting with Anna and his Axe effect. An old man has captured the sentiment and spun it brilliantly. In fact he should participate in elections. But he won’t. Because then he will become us and you will hate him in equal measure.

How can you, the educated society, fall for this uneducated man? He left school after class VII and joined army just before the 1962 China War. He was shunted off to the border after he had taken on his superiors over corruption in civil supplies. That this man is a potential trouble maker and loose cannon, we should have known.

Let us come to your stage managed ‘page three’ movement. Being argumentative by nature, the cacophony of diverse voices will take the sting out of your unity. As long as swamis use your stage for yogic…oops political postures, we are safe. Also this fastocracy doesn’t work. Remember what happened to K Chandrashekhar Rao who was on a fast unto death for Telangana. See what we did to him. Bring on any law and we will unleash Sibal, Singhvi and Jaitly to unearth loopholes. We have entrusted the task of smearing reputations of your 'so called' honest leaders with wily spin doctors, Shri Kamar Singh ji and Shri Bigdijay Singh ji. They are veterans at throwing muck and hopefully some of it will stick.




So far, you have been regular tax payers, rule abiders, and Indian ambassadors abroad. You continue to pour your angst on facebook. Who is stopping you? Press the dislike button for us as many times you like. But why take to the streets? This is mobocracy. Isn’t there any difference between Tikait the Jat agitation leader and educated professionals like yourself?

Okay, so you are upset that there are no TV sets, cows, and mixer grinders for you. But do you come to vote? No na? No votes, no cash. This is democracy. Remember how you held candle light vigils in Mumbai after 26/11 and yet refused to vote six months later? Respected members of your civil society lost their deposits. Our power to molest democracy comes from your silence. And God knows how we love you for your silence. Muah!
A bottle of liquor is what it takes to buy a vote. Of course from your tax paid money. So what? Robin Hood did the same. We use what works. Money in Tamil Nadu, Violence in Bengal. This is democracy. When our clever minister said that 2G was a zero-sum loss and not 30,984 crore loss, you did not believe him. So we made him the new telecom minister. Our intentions were crystal clear when we made the same clever minister a member of the committee meant to provide teeth to the Lok Pal Bill. We are sure he will chew it to bits. This is democracy.
Some of you are saying that shaming the government is as easy as making a stripper blush. You think you can shame us? When we can chew fodder meant for cows, when we can grab houses meant for war widows and when we can manage a coffin scam, you sincerely think we are ashamed? Sorry! The gimmick by that ‘Cheeky Chetan’ of writing ‘Mera neta chor hai’ on his arm has upset Shri Pawar ji and Shri Karunanidhi ji so much that now they are contemplating writing, ‘Meri janta chor hai.’ How’s that for a tit for tat?

To set the record straight, we have as much disdain for the C word as everyone else. But so far we have been equal partners in crime. The only debatable factor has been the magical zeroes. You do 10 we do 10000000….Rightfully. Since we are mass leaders. Let us explain. In any business deal the politician gets only 15 percent and the entire chunk goes to the businessman. Did we ever go on a hunger strike? No na? You don’t need large sums of money, we do. You abet the corrupt practices of business and then enjoy the spoils of it. This is not done!

So even if you get your kicks by lampooning us, stop calling us corrupt for we are merely your reflections. We are not corrupt; incompetent maybe. Having said that we strongly believe that two wrongs always make a right. If one political party makes a mistake we follow suit. Same to same.

Finally we can debate this bill for another 42 years. It is debatable. After all what is 42 years in the life of a democracy? An Amul Baby!
Lage raho! Together we will take this nation somewhere. This is democracy.

Jai Hind

COMEDY CIRCUS

What better way to end the year on a comical note? So what if we are hurt by the laceration of political sarcasm, the major political parties will not stop from humoring us to death. What can be more sadistically pleasurable than humiliating the common sense of the common man by repeatedly mocking at his intellect?

Why, you ask?

Well, let me start with the awesomely funny holier than thou attitude. When both BJP and the Congress piously trade charges of corruption and mismanagement, it is obvious that both are the same sides of the political coin. The debate is more mirthful than malicious. Flip the coin and the magical zeroes of corruption might vary but the story remains the same. Let’s stop this hypocrisy of who is more corrupt. This charade of exposing the corrupt has become a big joke. Knowing well that both are in bed with each other, the joke is not even amusing.
This sham of raids under media pressure is again a hilarious stunt. The CWG games were over on the October 14, 2010. CBI raided Kalmadi on December 24, 2010. We get the humor. Ha, ha. A Raja emerged smiling after CBI ostensibly grilled him for 9 hours. Maybe the CBI was grilling chicken tikka and sharing jokes with Raja. Of course the joke was on us. We get it.

Ha, ha, again.
My belly hurts when both parties are accused of misappropriation of funds, privileges or power, and the reply is, “They also did the same during their regime.” Two wrongs do not make a right. We know that. So please do not kill us with the same buffoonery. Try something else. Use your ingenuity.

Superficial wounds heal. But deeper wounds leave scars; scars which become sick metaphors for decades to come. Fodder, Bofors, Adarsh and 2G might not land anyone in jail, yet these words have become witty invectives.
The Mumbai attack on 26/11 was a deep wound. You were unable to bring the perpetrators to justice. Fine. But please don’t burst into guffaws over the memory of those who lost their lives on that fateful day.

Denial?

Come on, tell me, what was a certain spokesperson for the government doing? In fact, every few days he opens his big mouth with his foot in it, giving ludicrous statements. If you endorse his preposterous comments then come out in the open and say it. If not, shut his big mouth with some red tape. You can’t accuse him of naiveté. He transgresses the limits of tolerance of the officer’s wife who lost his life, that fateful day. Greed for power can make you stoop to levels where you start giving color to terror? Even a child can tell you that terror is neither green nor saffron. If at all terror is red; the color of blood. So do not divide and drool. It doesn’t work anymore.
The irony is that some section of the media is also privy to your private humor. Stop the hypocrisy of hyperventilating for the cause of the common man. Most news is planted and paid for the sake of magical TRPs. Why garb your debates in the guise of social cleansing? Plan your maneuvers, get paid by the lobbyists, plant news and play your role in appointing ministers. Be brazen about it. Just don’t fool us. The stench emanating from the pretense of taking cudgels for the common man is nauseating.
For some reason if I am unable to pay my income tax, house tax or home loan, I will be punished promptly. If I do not have my pollution certificate or registration papers in my car, I might land in jail. Why not exculpate me?

Let’s strike a deal here. If you have the knack of cracking jokes, you should also have the courage to chuckle at my wise cracks. How about mutual banter? Some rib tickling humor. I will not ask you uncomfortable questions and you do not punish me for my innocuous crimes. Let’s all be corrupt. It will be awesomely funny start to the New Year.

A Suitable Girl

A SUITABLE GIRL


There is this boy (read foreign delegate), coming to see an Indian girl on October the 3rd 2010. Now here lies the irony. At the moment, the girl in question is not in the best of health and is in a desperate need of a makeover.

Over the years she has put on oodles of weight of corruption, she has ugly scars of neglect, dreadful moles of apathy and her complexion has blemishes of black wheeling dealing. Every monsoon she suffers from recurrent fever of various origins. Since this malaise has infected her for years her parents are worried. Make no mistake, it’s not her fault. She is an interesting girl, with a colorful personality and a beautiful Indian heart. It’s just that her parents Ms. S. Dixit and Mr. J. Reddy have been too busy pursuing their self interests that the girl needs a drastic makeover a la Oprah style.

Now that the D day is so dreadfully close her parents are obviously worried. For the sake of the prestige of the girl you ask? Nah….In fact they are nervous wrecks for the fact that they might not be appointed as her guardians after the next elections. Mulling over the issue for months over endless cups of tea the parents decided to book the best beauty parlour in town for a revolutionary revolution. The beautician a certain Ms Kala- madi seized the opportunity with both hands and legs too. Though difficult, involving several sessions, the job promised an opportunity to add magical zeroes to the slumping fortunes of his dilapidated parlor.

Poor girl! Tsk…tsk..She was made to quaff several bitter pills to become shapely and appealing. A few silicone implants of stadium constructions, Botox sessions of road widening and tummy tucks of trial traffic runs, the results were heartening. Not to mention a few gold facials to remove the ugly scars in the form of construction debris defacing the flawless complexion and etiquette classes for the Delhi police to deal gracefully with the boy’s family.

On the eventful day the boy in question arrived with his family all eager and hopeful of an enriching experience of meeting this Incredible girl. And surprise…surprise; he fell madly in love with the engrossing show, the colorful costumes, and amazing hospitality. Only, the boy did not marry the girl but promised to return soon to take back his Dulhaniya.

Never mind a surprise visit a fortnight later the boy was in for a rude shock. This was not the girl he saw on his earlier visit. The girl had put on weight of fraud, was sick with dengue, scarred with monsoons and turned schizophrenic due to traffic jams. Worse the blemishes of beggars on her pretty face harassed him day and night.



The boy left back hurriedly, returning with the memories of a lovely damsel he had met earlier.