Dream

Posts Tagged ‘Figment of Imagination

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Who doesn’t know Manish Tewari? Manish Tewari is an I&B Union Minister. He also has a dubious distinction of trending on a popular micro blogging site Twitter on famous Bollywood actress Katrina Kaif’s birthday. The reason why he trended on Twitter on such a fateful day is once again he did what he is expert at doing. He shot his mouth off.

Everybody knows that Dr. MMS doesn’t speak at all. Manish Tewariji is a complete contrast to MMS. He speaks too much. He doesn’t try and understand whether his comments or observations are required and whether they’ll serve his party well or not. No sooner he sees camera crews from TV news channels than he starts speaking sometimes much to the chagrin of the party he represents.

On the condition of anonymity, some senior Congress leaders have admitted that a tacit understanding between ever silent PM and motor mouth Manishji does exist. It is mutually agreed by both PM and Manishji that while the former will observe an all time silence, the latter will start hyperventilating every time he comes within sniffing distance of a mike.

That said, after all who can forget his notorious jibe at Anna Hazare and his team? It was Manishji who had accused Annaji of corruption. But he had really met his match in Anna Hazare who took him to the cleaners by demanding an apology from him without delay. That public spat with Annaji helped Manishji score brownie points within his own party. This is precisely why every time Manishji suffers from the foot in the mouth disease, his party throws its full weight behind him.

But alas his luck seems to have run its course. This time around Manishji has reportedly earned the wrath of his party big wigs while taking a jibe at BJP for charging admission fee at an event in Hyderabad where Mr. Modi is the main speaker. The latest round of verbal dual between Manishji and BJP hasn’t gone down well with the party High Command. Rahul G is livid at the way BJP has attacked the central leadership of Congress on account of Manish Tewari’s potshot at Modi show in Hyderabad next month. Congress has been finding itself on back-foot ever since Mr. Modi’s elevation at the national stage. The party think tank has decided not to lock direct horns with the Gujarat CM. But Manishji has sounded the war of bugle without getting a green signal from 10 Janpath.

Rahul G has reportedly asked Manishji to avoid mikes and TV cameras until further orders. In the next party meet, Rahul G – it is learnt from the sources close to him – will welcome Manishji with a garland of five rupee currency note and advise him to keep that note as a token of appreciation for keeping his mouth shut in future.

Though many senior leaders feel that five rupee note is such a small amount for Manishji, Rahul G is believed to have convinced them by citing the fall of rupee from the grace. It remains to be seen whether Manishji will come out unscathed from his latest predicament. Those who know the gritty minister claim that this is like a storm in the tea cup for the beleaguered minister, trust him to kick off another another controversy to bring him back in the reckoning as soon as possible.

BJP claims to be a party with a difference. In the recent past, its detractors have twisted this punch line to take potshots at party they hate the most. They try to poke fun at BJP and make their dislike known for it by twisting its punch line from party with difference to party within differences.

But today BJP proved that it is indeed a party with a difference. After announcing the new members of its much talked about Parliamentary Board yesterday, on April Fools day it also announced its Prime Ministerial candidate for the upcoming General Elections in 2014.

Mr. Rajnath Singh, the party president, held a press conference at the party head quarter in the Capital today and made the announcement by reading out a carefully worded written statement. “Today the top BJP leadership has decided unanimously that its prime ministerial candidate will be Rahul Gandhi. All the party leaders have come to a conclusion that if India wants to witness a revolution in development and infrastructure, if India wants to root out corruption, only one leader has it in him to do so. And that leader is none other than Shri Rahul Gandhi.”

Mr. Singh declined to answer visibly shocked reporters’ questions citing the lack of time due to his tight schedule much to the disappointment of the reporters. Soon after the announcement, he was whisked away in his car to an undisclosed location. His mobile phone was also switched off at the time of going to the press.

All senior party leaders of BJP are tight lipped about this mysterious and baffling announcement. What has prompted the party to endorse Rahul Gandhi’s prime ministerial candidature is intriguing all BJP supporters. The party workers are a shaken lot. They came to know about this development only when the TV news channels broke the news earlier on in the morning.

Die hard BJP supporters brushed this news item aside thinking that the TV channels were playing April Fools’ Day prank on their gullible viewers. And that soon BJP stalwarts would take the wind out of the sails of these news channels by issuing a presser to clarify the rumours doing the round. But till now no clarification from BJP on the announcement of Rahul Gandhi as PM candidate is forthcoming. This has sent the rumour mills into a tizzy. Is BJP a divided house? Where’s party’s development mascot the Gujarat CM Shri Narendra Modi? These and many more questions India is asking.

The Congress Camp was visibly jubilant. Overzealous party workers were seen as bursting the firecrackers outside Rahul Gandhi’s official residence. The sweets were also distributed at all the Congress party offices across the country. Quite surprisingly, neither Rahul Gandhi nor his senior party leaders have addressed media to give their reaction. When this reporter tried to interview one of the senior Congress leaders reportedly close to Rahul Gandhi, he declined to say anything on the record. Off the record he said on the condition of anonymity that it appeared to him that Mr. Singh had joined Congress and he had made that announcement at madam’s behest. But he also admitted that no such circular he had received from the High Command, and he was merely taking a wild guess.

Those who know Mr. Narendra Modi are sure that this is his brainchild. By announcing Rahul Gandhi as PM candidate, BJP has taken the fight to the enemy camp. Mr. Modi, the Hindu Hriday Samrat, is the indisputable choice in the race for country’s top job.As far as BJP is concerned,  it has indeed shown a greater degree of maturity so far by announcing the Congress man as its PM candidate.

Now the ball is in Congress’ court. If Congress has any shame left, without wasting time it should announce Mr. Narendra Modi aka NaMo as its prime minister candidate. That will even the score. The balance will be restored. And the country will witness the tightly fought General Election in next few months. Mr. Narendra Modi will lead BJP to a historic win and occupy the coveted post of PM. This is what India wants.

The IPL marketing managers have, so far, failed to arouse both interest and enthusiasm amongst the viewers. How they are going to grab the eyeballs is a million dollar question on every one’s mind. If, at all, IPL has dominated the news headlines; it has done so for all the wrong reasons. A couple of days ago there was a news item about the Sri Lankan players not allowed to play the IPL matches in Chennai.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the politicians have started using IPL as a tool to settle their political scores. Cricketers and the cricket managers have been deprived of an opportunity to milk IPL for their personal popularity and gains. Be that as it may, the fact that IPL is likely to prove to be a damp squib this time around has left the organisers a worried lot. Suddenly they have realised that the cricket fatigue is setting and the upcoming edition of IPL is yet to find many takers.

Since the stakes are high and big bucks are riding on the success of this IPL tournament, the strategy makers have gone into a huddle so as to come out with a winning formula that makes this edition of IPL a super success. The major stakeholders in IPL are not the players but beleaguered businessman like Vijay Mallya who is hoping that his team RCB will turn around the fortunes of debt ridden KFA and employees will finally receive their much awaited salaries.

In terms of debts, inflated egos, political rivalries and sinking popularity, there is indeed a lot that is at stake with regards to IPL. This IPL edition is a make or break for many stakeholders including players in more ways than one. Keeping all these factors in mind, the marketing in-charge of IPL has got a few game changing ideas in one of the brain storming sessions.

This self proclaimed reporter filed an RTI to get the minutes of the strategy meet of the IPL marketing team. According to the highly confidential documents available with this reporter, in the said meeting, a unanimous decision has been taken to withdraw all TV commercials featuring Farah Khan whose irritating dance moves have enraged the viewers world wide. There were reports of a few frustrated viewers having smashed their TV sets as soon as the ad had appeared on their TV screens. Somehow the IPL organising committee managed to stop those news items from making it to the headlines of the newspapers and TV news channels. 

However, with less than a week to go before the IPL tournament gets underway, all is not lost. The think tank has been surfing the latest trends in the cyberspace. The startling revelation is Justice Katju. His open letters have got an uncanny knack of ending up as the talk of the nation. These MBA guys have reportedly roped in Mr. Justice Katju to write an open letter to the cricket lovers. In his soon to come out open letter – the draft of which is being carefully reviewed – he is going to cite example of how this IPL edition is different from the previous ones and why watching IPL will improve the overall IQ of the nation and how each countryman will be doing a great service to the nation by watching those games.

This move will really hit the bull’s eye and do wonders for IPL and its popularity. In addition to Katju’s open letter, Sanjay Dutt has been roped in to file a petition in the court requesting that he be granted time till IPL is over to surrender. In the run up to the final date of IPL, a lot many things are expected to make the IPL tournament the top most trending topics across various online social  platforms.

Marketing is an art of making the shit hit the fan. Once the shit hits the fan, there’s no looking back. The IPL marketers are just going to do that. After all, isn’t everything fair in love and war?

The time is ten am. There is no one in the house. Ravi is all alone. His mind is wandering here and there. All through the previous night he couldn’t sleep a wink. His mind is busy thinking thoughts that can get him lynched if, by mistake also, he ends up sharing with anyone.

He is restless. He is helpless. He is powerless and has no clue as to how he should get rid of those ideas that have been tormenting him since past twelve hours.

Deepa is someone whom he cannot put out of his mind. Deepa is always in his thoughts no matter where he is and what he is doing. She has become such an infatuation that has, of late, begun to border on the obsession.

She is a sweet girl of twenty-five with an extraordinary smile that can light up the entire world. Her sparkling eyes are so beautiful that they can make you forget all your worries in an instant. Her voice is so sweet that it can heal any wounds without applying any ointment. She has all that a young guy like Ravi expects a modern girl to possess.

Killer looks with intelligence. Sense of humour with innocence. Sense of fashion with a touch of modernity. And much more.

The only unfortunate part of Ravi-Deepa saga is Deepa has no feelings for Ravi whatsoever. However, she is aware of Ravi’s feelings for her who, once upon a time, had tried his best to bring her around in vain.

The entire episode had ended up with a lot of heart burns and there is no way Ravi can seek redemption from whatever his persuasive skills had inflicted in a distant past.

Though Ravi pretends to have forgotten her, in his heart of hearts he still thinks her thoughts and firmly believes that the day is not far when Deepa is going to be in his arms. How that turn around can happen is one question the answer to which Ravi hopes to get through some mysterious way while he is fast asleep.

He has a firm belief whereas Deepa has stubborn nature.

After five years, previous evening Ravi and Deepa come face to face with each other in the most unexpected way. At a shopping mall, Ravi has gone to pick up some grocery items. To her surprise, he finds Deepa also there whom he fails to recognise initially as she has gained a little weight.

Ravi thinks that his memory is playing tricks on his mind and tries to dismiss the thought from his mind when Deepa’s phone blares out the ring tone “Mere mun yeah bata de tu, kis aur chala hai tu…”, she presses the answer button and whispers a sweet hello into her cell phone. Both the ring tone and that hello convince him that it is indeed Deepa whom he is seeing. The moment he realizes who is inches away from him, he loses the sense of time and place.

Ravi cannot recall what else she speaks into the phone as the sound of her soft hello transports him to a dream land where only Deepa and he live and for a living they do nothing. To while away their time they make love round the clock. And to quench their hunger and thirst they eat fruits and drink water from a stream flowing in their garden. When they grow bored, Ravi writes poems and romantic stories and reads them out to her. This is all they do in that dream land.

The dream lasts only a few minutes as he soon relises that he is in the way blocking movement of shoppers in the grocery section.

From the toiletry shelves, Deepa picks up soaps and shampoo bottle and heads to the billing counter. While walking past Ravi – whom she has noticed at last and is showing no signs of recognition let alone surprise – she hums sweetly “Thoda sa pyaar hua hai… thoda hai baaki……”

Ravi is losing his mind. He cannot believe what he hears. Is the song a covert message that she is ready for him now? Ravi gets a dull ache in his forehead and presses it with his fingers. He gets so overcome by what has happened just then that without shopping for anything he saunters out of the mall hoping to catch a glimpse of Deepa who too may be on her way out after paying.

There is no such thing waiting to happen as Ravi throws nervous glances around desperately searching for Deepa who is nowhere to be seen.

He gives up and goes home unable to get rid of the mini storm that unexpected run-in with Deepa rages on in his mind. She has changed completely. She has become more dignified with the passage of time. She is dressed up also so fashionably. Those white leggings and printed frock are making her look that way or has she really gained weight? All these thoughts keep racing across his mind as “thoda sa pyaar hua hai..thoda hai baaki” keeps reverberating in his head.

He cannot sleep however hard he tries. His mind keeps going back and forth to Deepa and her song. What does it mean? Who called her? Why that ring tone? Is she into some relationship? Has she found someone nice at last? Is she going to be happy  with him? What will happen to him? What will happen to his dreams? Will they remain merely dreams?

He keeps raking up his brains thinking all such torturous thoughts. He doesn’t know when he falls asleep.

In his sleep, he sees a dream. The ocean waves are rising and falling. The sun is burning into the sea. The beach is deserted. But somewhere far away there is a ship that looks like a tiny dot from the distance. Deepa and he are walking slowly in the direction where the ship is anchored.

She is wearing pink leggings with a black embroidered top. They are walking hand in hand. Their fingers are intertwined. The sweat beads keep appearing on Deepa’s forehead. From time to time Ravi wipes them with his handkerchief and kisses her forehead as they keep walking. In the background, “thoda sa pyaar hua hai….thoda hai baaki” is playing as the ocean waves rise and fall in perfect synchrony.

They both look content and perfectly at peach with each other. They are going away somewhere. The ship is waiting to take them on board. Once they climb into the ship, it will set sailing and transport them to a land where the pure love gets celebrated day in and day out.

Finally they reach where the ship is anchored. They look into each others’  eyes before climbing up into the ship. They smile and say I love you simultaneously to each other. When they realize what has happened, they laugh and start kissing each others’ lips. Now “thoda sa pyaar hua hai… thoda hai baaki…”. is playing at full volume.

At this juncture, Ravi’s dream comes to an end as he wakes up from the sleep sweating profusely. He looks at the time on his cell phone. It is four am. What is she doing right now? Is she also seeing the same dream as I saw just now? Has she also woken up sweating the way I did? He has no answers and only questions. Feeling frustrated he types out an email on his cell phone addressed to Deepa. It reads.

 Hello Deepa,

     I am extremely sorry for what happened five years ago. Can we bury the past and start talking once again? I promise to behave respectfully with you. Please trust me.

     Ravi.

He doesn’t have the courage to send that email so he discards the draft.  He tries to return to sleep.

Next day it is five minutes past ten am as he sits at a plastic chair in the living room staring at the TV screen that is not turned on. He doesn’t know how to get rid of that mental state. He hopes secretly that it will leave him alone soon so that he can get up and go to the duty.

He has lost appetite. He just wants to sit in silence as the words “thoda sa pyaar hua hai….thoda hai baaki” keep playing somewhere in the background.

The door bell rings. He gets up unwillingly to open the door expecting the milk man. When he opens the door, he cannot believe what he sees.

Deepa is standing and smiling that powerful smile capable of melting the whole snow mountain. Before Ravi can pull himself together, she says, “Hello, good morning. Can I step in for a minute?”

Ravi steps aside to let her in without speaking a word. The same brand of perfume from five years ago she is wearing. Her choice has remained unchanged.

Ravi closes the door behind and turns around to see Deepa already seated on his plastic chair. He walks past her to the refrigerator to fetch her water. While pouring the water into a glass from the bottle, he nervously looks in the direction of Deepa who is staring at the screen of the switched off TV with a remote in her hand. She is wearing those pink leggings and black embroidered top from the dream.

Ravi’s heart is beating fast. The whole situation feels surreal.

Finally he is standing in front of her holding the glass of water. He wants to smile at her but cannot bring himself to smile. He is way too nervous for that.

She holds his hand that is holding the glass of water and says, “Ravi, now I realize that how much you love me.” She goes on after blinking at him naughtily,  “I cannot live without you. I want to be your friend, soul-mate and take a long walk down some sunny beach. You can text message and call me any time and become my friend on FB. You can even talk to me in private. I won’t breathe one word about it to anyone. Now come on. Stop having that far away look on your face and smile at me.”

The time comes to a standstill as these words strike against Ravi’s ear drums and then go on to reverberate in his head. She takes the glass from his hand, gulps the water down. While handing him back the glass, she closes his eyes and starts singing softly, “Thoda sa pyaar hua hai….. thoda hai baaki…..”

The End.

 

Amar’s heart was pounding against his ribcage as he made his way through the evening traffic of Bangalore to reach home. He had stopped feeling excited for past few days. All of a sudden the excitement had returned. He didn’t know how to deal with the excitement.

He knew that Reema was at his home. She was there with her mother. He didn’t want her to be there when he reached home. He was scared that something bad would happen. Something so bad that for which he would end up regretting forever.

But the battle was between the mind and the heart. The mind didn’t want her to be around when he reached home. At the same time the heart wanted her to be around. The heart, moreover, wanted her to smile at him when he reached.

While waiting for the signal to turn green, he pulled out his cell phone and nervously typed a text message that read can you please ensure that nobody is around when I reach home? He paused for a while before sending the message. When the signal was about to turn green, he pressed the send button and kick-started his bike after sliding his phone into his shirt pocket.

Amar had sent the text message to his wife Jyoti.

Amar had, once upon a time, a crush on Reema who was Jyoti’s cousin. There was a history of bad blood between Amar and Reema following the various attempts made by Amar to make Reema his ‘friend’.

Reema had initially kept those overtures a secret from Jyoti thinking that that would upset Jyoti and both husband and wife would end up fighting on account of her.

Amar had misunderstood her silence as a covert green signal and had gone to the extent of asking her out one evening after showering her with expensive gifts.

All this he had done after extracting a promise from Reema that she would never divulge a word of it to Jyoti.

God only knew how long all that love-struck behaviour of Amar would have gone on, had Jyoti not come across a text message accidentally in Reema’s mobile.

The message was from Amar asking Reema whether she would prefer dining with him at her favourite restaurant at Koromangala. Obviously, that had infuriated Jyoti who, in turn, had demanded to know what the whole thing was all about after accusing Reema of having an affair with her husband.

Bucketful of tears were shed as the accusations flew thick and fast. When Reema successfully proved that it was Amar who was stalking her, the attention shifted to Amar who was made to swear by their two daughters against any such future transgressions.

The doomsday had long gone. But its ugly aftermath kept casting its long shadow time and again. Amar had to prove his love for his hurt wife and commitment toward their marriage all over again.

The faith in their marriage was the main casualty. Now it was up to Amar to rebuild that faith brick by brick.

It was proving to be difficult as Reema was a family relative and her entry couldn’t be banned into their household. Time and again they ran into each other. Again the doubts cropped up and the old memories would come back to haunt the couple.

It was five years ago. But the wounds were still fresh. At times they both tried to pretend that it was a painful episode left behind for good. But in truth, those memories were always at the back of their minds.

While riding his bike he anxiously waited for his phone to vibrate against his chest in his shirt pocket. But the phone refused to vibrate indicating they were there to stay .

The evening was promising to be eventful as the hunter was about to see the prey after a gap of a couple of months.

Amar reached home and as feared Reema was there.

He nervously knocked at the door. As he stood waiting for the door to come open, the questions would Reema look at him, would she at least smile at him, will she give any indication that all was forgiven and forgotten and she was ready to move on raced across his minds making him go weak in his knees.

He felt like sitting down on the steps. Finally the door came open and he saw Jyoti and his younger daughter Sumi beaming at him proudly.

They both stepped aside to let him in. As he entered, Sumi asked, “Papa, what have you brought me?”

“Leave your papa alone, beti. He has returned home tired.” He heard Jyoti call out after Sumi as he walked into the bedroom for a change and shower.

Sumi was six years old and she snatched Amar’s Wildcraft bag and began to go through it frantically to come up with something for her. This behaviour struck Amar as odd.

His eyes were looking for Reema who was nowhere in sight. A pleasant smell pervaded in the air. The house looked cleaner than usual. The neat and clean bed-sheets adored the beds. The chairs were properly kept in the corner. The TV was switched off. The festivities were in the air thought Amar while throwing nervous glances around.

He continued to look around searchingly for their elder daughter. Even she was nowhere to be seen.

Jyoti could sense who Amar was looking for. She said, “Sara is over at Rosie’s place for the homework” while handing him over a glass of water.

Without a word Amar gulped down the water and handed the glass back to Jyoti who was standing there waiting for him to finish.

“Can you please say hello to aunt?” said Jyoti pointing in the direction of the kitchen.

He walked across to the kitchen and saw Reema and aunt huddled over the gas stove making dinner.

“Hello aunt, how are you doing?”

Aunt turned around to smile at Amar. But to his dismay Reema’s back continued to face him. Obviously, he was heart-broken.

Without bothering to wait for aunt’s answer, he turned back out of frustration and headed into the bedroom slamming the door shut behind him.

He was humiliated. On his own turf, there was a guest who was not interested in looking in his direction. He felt the snub had robbed him of all his self-pride in a single stroke.

The feeling of worthlessness grew more painful with each passing moment as he sat on the bed plotting the revenge.

Jyoti, sensing trouble, decided to stay out of Amar’s sight.

After half an hour, Amar heard Reema calling out to Sara. What he understood was Reema wanted Sara to accompany her somewhere for an urgent errand. He didn’t know what the errand was all about.

Suddenly an idea flashed across his mind. With a chuckle he got up and hurried out of the bed-room.

“Sara, what’s up? Don’t you want to say hello to your papa?”

Reema and Sara were at the door ready to go out somewhere.

“Hello Papa, sorry. Mommy asked me to let you sleep for a while. That was why I didn’t come in to say hello. Now give us five minutes. We are going out somewhere and will be back soon” said Sara with a naughty wink.

She was nine years and was very talkative. Everybody adored her in their family and neighborhood.

“No darling. How can you step out at this hour? Roads are unsafe out there. I want you to stay indoors”.

Reema and Jyoti exchanged nervous glances as Sara’s face lost all its colour.

It was futile to argue with Amar. Reema let go of Sara’s hand and looked in a corner where Sumi was seated on a plastic chair playing racing game on her PSP.

Amar knew what Reema was thinking. Without wasting a second, he said, “Sumi darling, can you press my head? I have a severe headache”.

Without a word, Sumi got up from her chair and rushed into the bed-room. Sara too followed her as Amar smiled a triumphant smile while closing the bed-room door behind them.

A silence fell over the house-hold. Nobody said a word for a long time. They ate dinner too in silence.

After dinner, Reema and her mother took their permission to leave.

It was eleven pm and the time to go to bed.

He went inside the room where his daughters slept to kiss them good night. Both had white cotton dresses on and they looked like angels. None of them looked up to smile at him.

Amar didn’t know what to do. He stood there for a while. It took him some time to realise that they were crying.

Amar sat next to his elder daughter Sara and cupped her small face in his palms. She looked at him and said, “Papa, you are really very cruel. How could you do that? Do you know how much you’ve hurt Sumi?”

He looked at Sumi who was sobbing loudly.

“Papa, go away from here. I don’t want to see your face. You remember nothing. Today was my seventh birthday. Forget about bringing cake and celebrating it, you haven’t even wished me. I will never forgive you. Please go out of my sight” yelled Sumi the birthday girl.

Amar felt like fainting right there.

“And you know what. While we were going out to bring a cake, even that you stopped from happening. Thank you for all your concerns. Please leave us alone now” cried Sara.

Amar noticed the presence of Jyoti behind him.

He turned around and walked past Jyoti as she mumbled, “For some human beings, their grudges and egos override everything else. They never change”.

Had the earth slid, Amar wouldn’t have minded falling into it.

The End

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My name is Robert Vadra and I am not corrupt. Nobody knows the excruciating pain I have been experiencing following the revelations of my alleged involvement in the corruption by Kejrival and co.

I am a patriotic citizen of India. I am a son-in-law of Italy. Had I wanted, I would have established my business empire in Italy. But I want the country of my birth to benefit from my out-of-box and underhand business deals. This is precisely why I chose to be in India.

Look at what my fellow country men have been doing to me. They should never bite the hands that feed them. My hands have grown so wide and strong that they can reach any nook and corner of India and feed the mouths where food doesn’t reach.

Following these allegations, do these morons think that I will be interested in doing social work any longer? They have dug their own grave. They have burnt all their bridges with prosperity. But I am safe as I have uncountable wealth stashed away in the lockers of the Swiss banks.

Nobody knows the truth how and from where these revelations have materialised. The Congress supporters are naive enough to think that the BJP is directing the Kejrival and Co from behind the scene ahead of the Gujarat assembly polls.

Alas! How misguided these die hard fans are!

The BJP is too busy dousing fire in its own backyard with so many prime ministerial candidates entering the fray. Then who is responsible for the latest skeleton to appear from nowhere? Well, the fact is stranger than fiction, isn’t it? I am the writer, director and producer of the magnum opus that is playing itself out on the TV screen near you.

But then you want to ask me why someone like me would want to blow his own chances of becoming the brother-in-law of future PM or if the god is willing, maybe the husband of future PM by getting maligned as a corrupt businessman. Well, there you got it.

I am sick of playing the second fiddle to these bumbling Gandhis. I want to become neither the brother-in-law of future of PM nor husband. The fact is I want to become the PM of this country. The late Feroz Gandhi and I hold discussions in my dreams. It is he who wants to see me as the PM of India. He wants me to fulfill his dream of becoming the PM as he strongly feels up there in the Heaven that the Gandhi dynasty has run its course and the time for another dynasty has come. The Vadra dynasty fits the bill perfectly.

Amidst all this hullabaloo Soniaji got very upset and expressed her desire to speak to me on phone. Now the PM is scared of her who takes her calls even when he is evacuating himself in the rest room. I decided to show the lady who the real boss is and kept her waiting on line for half an hour during which I had a perfect head to toe body massage from Thai masseuse and smoked three Havana cigars.

The lady sounded agitated and feared that her government was on the brink of collapse. I pacified her by saying that all the attars of Arabia might not be able to wash away the stink of corruption her government has raised but certainly all my money can save her government from toppling. She sounded relaxed and hung up before advising me to keep clear of the press.

If only she knew what I have been up to.

Even as Salmanji and Manishji hop from one TV studio to another to defend me, I am counting wades of crisp currency notes meant to be sent away to the Swiss Bank lockers where my money will continue to grow by leaps and bounds.

So much for Kejrival and his crusade against corruption.

The whole world has gone insane. How else can you explain such vile remarks and attacks on my integrity from all and sundry? They don’t know they are targeting a saint like me. The developments over past few months have pained me a lot to say the least.

Once upon a time the critics called Mrs. Indira Gandhi “gungi gudiya” for her alleged inability to give rousing speeches while addressing public gatherings. I am aware of the whisper campaign currently underway that describes such an honorable man like me as “gunga guda” for my deep and contemplative silence.

After all, what is there to speak? Kapil ji, Chidambaram ji, and Digvijay ji are all the time speaking. Sometimes they bribe my peon to steal the print-outs of my speeches and  replace them with the blank A4 papers. Then they shamelessly learn these speeches by heart only to reproduce them verbatim in the TV studios much to the dismay of my spin doctors who so painfully write my speeches.

All these underhand techniques of my cabinet and party colleagues have forced me into such a remorseful silence that the whole world is heaping scorn on me. I know that my integrity is beyond reproach. The scams have been around even before my premiership. It is not that all the scams have taken place during my tenure contrary to the impression that has gained ground.

I have always made it clear that I have nothing to hide. That I am ready for any debate on the floor of parliament. That I am all for the impartial inquiry of my roles into various scams that have unfortunately tumbled out of closets during the UPA regime.

The opposition has been baying for my blood. My own cabinet colleagues are giving contradictory statements with a view to pushing me out of Madam’s good books. The social media too is trying its best to create social unrest. Whoever is making life difficult for me doesn’t know that I am the best PM the country has seen till date.

To bolster my claim, here are a few achievements. I have put the Tihar Jail on the global map. Various scams with mind numbing zeros have flourished under my premiership. All this has contributed towards many Indians becoming multimillionaires to adore the cover page of the Forbes magazine. The list is endless. I can go on and on.

The media is the direct beneficiary of all the shenanigans that have taken place during my tenure. Thanks to all the scams and communal unrest in the recent past, the media has witnessed a steady growth in its circulation, TRPs and revenues over a period of time. Poor western media – buoyed by recession – cannot see its Indian counterparts doing so well.

This is precisely why they target me thinking it will bring a turn around in their fortunes. The Time cover-page was not only silly but also in a poor taste. Nobody (here or abroad) was impressed with the lousy job Time did. Instead of me losing my (already lost) reputation, it was Time that ended up damaging its own reputation.

This western press or media doesn’t like to learn from its own mistakes. Now as I write this diary, the Washington Post seems to have shot itself in the foot by calling such a man of fine repute like yours truly as a tragic figure who has fallen from grace. Can there be anything more comic than these juvenile observations?

The scribe Mr. Simon Denyer himself is a tragic figure since all those gentlemen he has spoken to before doing this piece on me have royally taken him for a jolly ride. Poor Simon Denyer doesn’t seem to understand that without grasping the local political permutations and combinations and equations if you sit down to write something as serious as that, your sources and facts tend to get all mixed up making you look like a tragic figure in the end.

The learned gentleman has little idea that my government and the party boast of years of experience in blaming on poor “foreign hand” everything that happens in this country. Then how can this foreign hand (scribe) come back to haunt me? I am really having the last laugh now.

Before I slip back into my preferred silence mode, one word of caution for Ambika ji who has been demanding an apology from Mr. Denyer who merely did as he was asked to do. She doesn’t know that my favourite film is Yash Chopra directed super-hit “Deewar”.

To quote the famous line from my all time favourite Deewar, “First go and get the signature of that person who inked on my hand that my father is a thief”, I think in view of the ongoing predicament, it would be more appropriate if first she went and got Madam’s apology for having listened to her inner-voice way back in 2004. While she is at it, she might as well go to the voters who voted UPA to power to get their apologies.

So many apologies are required. Whatever is happening is politically motivated for which as usual a foreign hand is to be blamed. Since I am not to be blamed for anything, please offer your unconditional apologies.

 

 

 

 


Wow....!!! This Much Love.....!!!!

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