KEJRIWAL & the changing game of water polo

Orchestrated by the Congress,the Delhi chief ministerial chair,for many monotonous corruption seasoned years, has been thrumming the dismal antiquated (aunty-quit-ed) chant, 'Sheila....Sheila ki jawani '. This time however,the pension bound tune never struck the right chord. The cacophony was so unpopular, that the electoral belly of Delhi was pleading for tympanic mercy. The conscious mortals of the mutilated capital pleaded for change of tune and composer. The assembly elections of 2013,ushered in prospective winds of change. The new gust pushed in a much needed cleaning apparatus to sweep,scrub and swab in crevices and cavities where it was onerous to dislodge hardened filth preserved by years of miss-governance. 

So, it all boils down to how the common man  or woman benefits ? Take Sheila auntie for instance.Now a part of the ordinary capital flock living off a paltry party pension. She sits ministering how to optimally put to use the 20,000 litres of free water provided by the novice AAP government .There of course are these odd moments when   she hoped against all hope that the people of Delhi will charitably remember her governments water generosity during the rains, when the downpour left the aam aadmi wading in waist deep puddles of efficiency. It allowed them the unique luxury of a hedonistic bath in preserved street salt and grime...many times over. Surely, that benevolence surpassed Arvind Kejriwal's post poll aqua generosity, which in comparison was a pittance. 'So what is all this ado about nothing ?', she bellows adjusting her telescopic eye wear.

Surely,the electorate turned out to be insensitive, blind to her humility and munificence.She had facilitated more free water to a person than what any other chief minister could think of bathing an obese elephant herd in. The spirit of gratitude was dead, she concluded.

Resigning to fate,the bewildered Sheila auntie,already in a state of post electoral disarray,turns to music for therapy. Chirping like a nightingale with a sore throat,her personal top of the chart track is the 1970's hit Smoke on the water. 

While the septuagenarian head bangs, Delhi'ites meanwhile, are taken in by their new found sporting fascinaton - water polo. The AAP government on its part,has even decided to declare water polo as the official state sport (with floating subsidies ofcourse). All this, in the thick of a freezing North Indian winter.

Dial R..... to be routed

Post the 2013 Delhi Assembly elections,the Congress party headquarters on 24 Akbar Road in the capital is abuzz with an army of spring cleaners. The con-men (read congress men for short) were literally swept away by a trendy new broom. All old school cleaners donning 'mango people' brooms have been evicted from the visual bubble of the party office. The new mantra for victory is 'to clean up by connecting to the grass root.' 

It is precisely for this obnoxious reason, that palm shaped vacuum cleaners are replacing wiry, noisy old brooms. At least, the cord connects someplace, lest the grass root.  
To state the obvious, one was witness to wired cleaners of different colours,textures and sizes making their way into the cosy comfort cushion laden chambers of their leaders. After all, leaders who profess about the escape velocity of planet Jupiter for the common man, do need extra terrestrial spring cleaning to connect to the grass root. Blessed we are,how earthly are our leaders ? When in dire straits, dial R...to be routed.

'POLI-TICKLING'

The story of India's valiant ruler and the fierce opposition that threatens him.

PRANAB on a platter

“Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what’s for lunch.”  :- Orson Welles

On the 19 of July 2012, the Congress party did just that, reducing to record, the national political pastime as orchestrated flatulence.What an indigestible meal was made of a good prime ministerial candidate ! 

   What many are not privy to, is the little story behind this delicate gastronomic disaster that has taken days to contrive. Afterall, every grand feast good or bad, carts with it a story.


    Chef Diggy was busy sifting air in his makeshift scullery behind madams lawn when a commi de rang of questionable repute called Sibal, rushed to the floor of the kitchenette and bellowed " high time to create a masterpiece for the family." Chef Diggy was neither surprised nor shaken,but ever ready to please his masters. After all, he was the chosen one forced into both a political hiatus and a jesterly role, only to deliver the magnum opus.


   The insidious Chef and the crafty commi set to work. With the math done, the flavourings in place, the cold cuts ordered and the garnishes readied, what just did not fall in place was how to 'hunt down the game' which is to be marinated,cooked and served on a social platter. Their masters were neither hunters not connoisseurs of the taste buds, they were after all just gluttonous foodies who would chomp at anything that stood their measly way.

   Thus in wily party circles was coined the term 'sacrificial meal', where the man in the benevolent eyes of their masters was praised for having done so much for the nation and deserved a befitting retirement. He would be offered gratuity on a smouldering spit. The unsuspecting Babu moshai, also the erstwhile chairman of the Indian Statistical Institute,Kolkata, got his statistical count wrong,slipping,tripping,sliding and rolling deep into a coveted 'retirement grease trap'.
   
   Trimmed of matter,as enough has been said in my earlier rants, this is the third sequel in this blog devoted to the well garnished and tastefully served babu moshai. An emboldened reference to earlier posts illustrating the first citizen to be:
  
Press I to.. Dent 
(A dig at the 2012 Presidential Elections)

PRANAB MUKHERJEE : Needs must when the devil drives 

(A cynical profile of the aura that looms around the 13th President)

 



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'BOO-FOR'S & soldiers of fortune'

In military thinking, the might of a gun depends on the quantum and ferocity of firepower it can bring to bear on opposing forces. However, when the 'know all' bureaucracy and 'wealth sucking' politicians enter the domain of military shopping ,for an ant hill,you pay the price of a gold mine.

Going by history, we have a time tested yardstick for choosing our arsenal . Long ago, a very talented gunsmith from a far away land ,caught the drift of a trade wind in the ocean and set sail to sell combat wares to our all and mighty. On embarking on our shores, to his dismay, he found fellow gun smiths from banana republics far and wide, selling sanitary pipes capable of launching a single pseudo pregnant bull frog across the neighbours maternity chamber as mainstay artillery. 

Aghast at the buyers propensity, he chose to allow his wares to stand out in merit. BOOM went the gun. The military stood impressed, the competition stood perplexed, the conniving cocktail of bureaucracy and polity found grass growing under their well greased feet. The gunsmith felt, he had clinched the deal on the worth of his barell.

A small framed bureaucrat, well traveled at the expense of competition,  stood up, brought together his hands in applause and remarked ''brilliant.....very promising, but we are a peace loving nation, arsenal of this magnitude will commence the end of the world from our own daisy and orchid bearing back yard, what we seek is a muzzle that can launch stool pigeons from one end of a ping pong table to the other. So...very good, but unfortunately does not serve our purpose ''  With this announcement, it was now the turn of the military to be perplexed,competition to be impressed and the bureaucracy-polity duo to mow unwanted grass from beneath their well anchored feet.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is also part of the dismal  tale of how we as a state indulge in the worthy art of state sponsored shopping.

 

'SELL-MAN' KHURSHID : A Victim of wrong Toilet Training

The defecating fields have provided an ideal training ground for our Polity. One, it is believed, reaps what they sow. Thus, the sales pitch of this vote reaping 'Sale-man' is no surprise. However, what is, is the fact that the law minister could subscribe aptly to the adage 'Power corrupts; absolute power corrupts absolutely' .Thus, with ease, there is scant regard for the Election Commissions prescribed 'moral code of conduct' . Excuse me, what code of what ??? Forgive this soul bearing specie, he chooses to understand not what 'moral' means

Can we really blame him ? Well.... attribute it to bad toilet training, the unrepentant gentleman cannot differentiate between a night soil receptacle and his own seat of thought. 

'SON-YEAH' and her 40 year old toddler

A latent mom from Italy

braided her plaits  flatly

Through the corridors of power

she held many  a bar lower

From the mammoth cart in tow

was a four decade old rattle to show

 Sounds of a wail

made side kicks hail

The mother gleamed

the toddler beamed

The nation cried

now..............

aren't we all tired ?

 

PRANAB MUKHERJEE : Needs must when the devil drives

Pranab  (PR-AHHH-NAB) !!! An old English proverb,perhaps unknown to congressmen in word, but well rehearsed and adhered to in spirit, states..  'Needs must when the devil drives'. 

A congress politician, who chokes the smooth flowing coerced- dynastic form of leadership is bound to be ceremoniously booted out of the self indulging family coterie. There is no room for a well meaning coup. So, where does that leave the illustrated subject in question ?

A straight arrow in the twisted quiver of the blindly lead herd is, Pranab Mukherjee.  This well weathered bull from the Congress stock, has piloted the party through many a crisis. There is no dearth of neither experience or versatility.Then WHY is it that this gentleman of primal steadiness NOT the obvious prime ministerial choice ??? The answer is obvious.... a second line of leadership is unwelcome and deviously scorned. What needs to be seen is will the man capable of heralding sound governance  be given his due ? 

Changing political fortunes and a dwindling faith in the folly soaked catapulted leader, could , as a matter of remote consideration, herald a much wanted change. A welcome change, in the opinion of a few.

In the worlds largest democratic carnival, unfortunately, there is no alternative political body worth its salt warranting such an impolite consideration.

In that paradigm, could the Pranabs, Chidambarams, Antonys, Jairams and the band of politicians capable of steering this vibrant nation, step out ? The need of the hour, an iron willed armoured charge that fires salvos of change.