Apologetic Kejriwaal

Like every evening I looked forward to have evening tea with my 30 IQ younger brother, Ugly-The-Fugly. His company is best stress buster and enlightening too. As I walked in he showed me apology letter from Arvind Kejriwaal, the chief minister of Delhi addressed to Ugly-The-Fugly himself. He hopped he danced and he whistled in joy, Kejriwaal has apologised to me he screamed. I looked at my wife perplexed and half smiling, she winked, signalling its rubbish as always.

As it turned out he had got a link on whatsApp, fill your name and you get a personalised apology letter from Kejriwaal. As I settled on sofa the news reader announced Kejriwaal had apologised to two more political rivals of his. He has brought himself to such a shame, I muttered as Ugly-The-Fugly settled next to me with his cup of tea. I knew today we will be talking on Kejriwaal and wasting no time Ugly-The-Fugly shot his first question at me.

Ugly-The-Fugly – Aren’t you happy a chief minister has apologised to me?

Me- I feel so proud Ugly.

Ugly-The-Fugly – Is it not fair for a person to go wrong.

Me – It is. Everyone goes wrong.

Ugly-The-Fugly – Then why so much noise about Kejriwaals apology. He went wrong, he realised and he apologised.

Me – He hasn’t realised he was wrong.

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Ugly-The-Fugly – Then what are the apologies about? They say he is going to apologise to another man, at whom he hurled few abuses in the court room as well.

Me- He actually does not mean it. He is apologising as he realises he will go to jail if the court decides the cases. He is trying to reach an out of court settlement.

Ugly-The-Fugly – Then he must have embarrassed himself and his party in a big way. How would he face his family.

Me – That’s his problem Ugly.

Ugly-The-Fugly – Why did he say such things which had no substance. A man of sane mind would never do that.

Me – He wanted to project himself as a saintly politician.

Ugly-The-Fugly – But then his conduct should have been saintly.

Me – Hmmm.

Ugly-The-Fugly – This apology would shatter his image of saintly politician, if all it were there.

Me- It will.

Ugly-The-Fugly – I suppose he was trying to be saintly politician at cost of others.

Me – True.

Ugly-The-Fugly – Are such people not more dangerous for people and politics both, more than a typical politician.

Me – They are, one can’t be good because others are bad.

Ugly-The-Fugly snatched TV remote from me to tune in to a music channel. It played his favourite song chikni chameli……… he broke into dance once again holding the apology letter in hand.

 

 

 

 

 

THE NaMo RaGa

Remember my younger brother ‘Montu The Moron’? The one who narrated story ‘Rahul G The Dirty Picture & The Fool’, it still is in archives of this blog. Though he is mentally retarded yet loves music a lot, especially Indian classical. No music concert in city is complete without his presence. Last week while we drove to Connaught Place for dinner Montu The Moron (henceforth known as MTM) spotted a billboard reading ‘THE NaMo RaGa’ next week at Pragati Maidan. MTM made it a point to be at that concert after all a new RaGa called NaMo was going to be played.

I reproduce what MTM narrated to me after the so called concert THE NaMo RaGa, but a disclaimer first.

It is as narrated by MTM and has nothing to resemble any one living or dead, already born, could be born or should be born. Any thing resembling to any one dead or alive is purely accidental. Nothing contained in it intends to shake spirits of Indians. Nothing in it points towards Gujratis, Italians or any one from any other part from India or word.

After attending the event MTM told it was not a concert at all, rather, it was a play. This is what MTM narrated on how play unfolded.

Scene 1:- Two young girls hang from neck from a tree as police watch them with indifference. A man aged nearly 45, having beard on his face sits next to the tree having meal with old mother of the girls. Woman forgets all her misery and is obliged that the national prince had meal with her, rather had her meal. A man in mid sixties with silver beard and silver tresses stands at other end. He is getting his chest measured, astoundingly, it is 56 inches. Police is busy making bandobast (security arrangements) for both gentlemen; while vultures belonging to Yadav Clan, tear these girls into pieces. MTM is confused, why 56 inch ka seena and prince of India couldn’t save these girls?

Scene 2:- A fair skinned lady sporting a sari with full-sleeve blouse is on election campaign. Her caravan of 16 govt. vehicles races through a village of her brother’s constituency. Illiterate kids in rags look at it with amusement. While driving through village fields this lady finds a perfect photo opportunity. It will make big in tomorrows newspapers she tells her manager. A woman laborer is about to have meal, Nehruvian pedigree having meal with such downtrodden will certainly be a big news. Laborer does not even identify who this rich woman is, still shares her meal and looks into cameras of media. She is left with no food to eat and has to continue working in sweltering heat of Indian summers without a meal. MTM has tears rolling from his cheeks.

Scene 3:- A rich fat business man meets a man in Khadi, they say fat guy is son of famous Gujrati business man and has arguably biggest and costliest house somewhere in Mumbai. Both shake hands, business man hands over a suitcase filled with currency notes to neta ji. Netaji signs the file in reciprocation. Both of them walk to a rag picker, who is  looking for stale food in dustbin, they snatch his rag bag before driving of. MTM cries foul, his rag bag is gone.

Scene 4:- A group of people appear on stage, they say they are called opportunists. It has a woman clad in white sari, speaks Bangla and has continued tradition of not letting West Bengal develop. Father and son duo from Yadav Lineage apparently share a joke as crime peaks in area of their influence. A heavy lady from south threatens to release hardened criminals from jail. Some people wearing dhoti and others with Sherwani spew poison at each another. A woman who has got numerous statues of herself made from public money frowns at malnourished kids as they clean her compound. A man, perhaps infected with TB, keeps coughing and promises change is looking for opportunity for himself. He has little concern for any one, still makes an impressive speech. All are oblivious of misery of country. MTM is depressed.

Scene 5:- Mother of army man sits on floor of her mud hut. Her torn saree hardly covers her dignity; she perhaps has not eaten for days now. They say her son was awarded highest military honor, posthumously. Many leaders had attended funeral of brave soldier, not missing to pose by this martyrs coffin for photo op as his family grieved. Supreme sacrifice for country by her son hasn’t brought her livelihood, honor or dignity. MTM is shattered.

Scene 6:- All characters of play come on stage, one last time, all with cohorts. Slander and disrespect for each another seems to be their mantra. All hit each another below waist. Curtain comes down and THE NaMo RaGa continues. A radio tuned in to All India Radio at some distance plays :- Har shaakh pe ullu baitha hai anjaame gulistan kya hoga? Barbade gulistan karne ko bas ek hi ullu kaafi hai (An Owl sits on each branch in this garden, garden is destined to be destroyed as even one Owl can ruin a garden).

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