Lord Shiva cracks jokes and Durga fries samosas (satire)

Sitting high up on top of Mount Kailash, Lord Shiva was watching Ganesh stifling a yawn. Normally, he is a very active individual but, of late, he appeared to be off mood.
‘Did you get a good night’s sleep?’ Shiva asked his son.
‘Life is boring,’ Ganesh replied. ‘My disciples do not pray to me anymore. They are busy trying to wriggle out of a tricky situation of outdated banknotes.’
‘I know,’ Lakshmi said. She had joined her brother. ‘Your disciples do not pray to you but, I am besieged with prayers from my devotees. They are the women who run the households – they do not know how to account their hidden treasures.’
‘The situation is certainly gloomy,’ Shiva murmured. ‘But - I have my eyes and ears open to see the antics of the leaders.’
Durga now joined her husband. She had been in the kitchen preparing samosas – the hot snacks could liven up any dull atmosphere.

‘Since when have you got interested in politicians?’ she asked, wiping her palm on the pallu.
‘Watching them flitting from one place to another is fun,’ Shiva grinned. ‘One of them goes around the world, the other goes around the country.’
‘They want to spread their base and eliminate all types of opposition,’ Durga said.
‘That is downright silly,’ Shiva went on. ‘For life to be meaningful, there must be some sort of opposition. You must have someone to fight with. Otherwise, life becomes dull and boring.’
‘Both of them have to do something to keep themselves busy. Remember, an idle mind is the devil’s workshop.’
‘So – they hit the trail,’ Shiva was not happy. ‘They don’t have any family to support as such. One of them is married and boasts of his 56-inch chest. But, his wife is always away on pilgrimage. The other boasts of her hawaii chappals and has not yet tied the knot.’
‘That is why none of them understands the hardships of the family man’ Durga sighed. ‘Let us not waste our time discussing them. I plan to give you a surprise for breakfast. Let me move to the kitchen.’
‘I smell samosas in the air,’ Ganesh said. ‘Must be to test the ghee you have obtained from the yoga guru, right?’ ‘All the better to fry them with,’ Durga said and moved towards her kitchen. (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org


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Moody learns about honey traps (satire)

Even after being in office for more than two years, Moody still finds himself as helpless as a fish out of the water. He is now admired all over the world as a leader who can make things happen and the world listens to him when he talks.
But – he appears to have failed in his attempts to woo over one of his neighbors. He began with exchange of gifts and followed it up with a sudden visit. Unfortunately, his efforts have not borne any fruit.
Suddenly his hot line rang. It was his friend Bee Rack O’Vama.
‘Hi,’ he greeted Moody. ‘I hear you want Na Buzz to dance to your tune.’
‘I am a great dance master,’ Moody said. ‘I can do the garba and bhangra and the kathak. Wherever I go, I don their dresses and make them dance to my tunes. I have mastered the art. But – I wonder why I am unable to get Na Buzz fall in line.’
‘You must cultivate the art of honey traps,’ Bee Rack said. They will always pay dividends.’

‘Honey traps?’ Moody was surprised. ‘Actually, honey is a different matter altogether. My trusted friend Baba Someday is a master in extracting honey from unwilling bees – he makes the world’s best honey.’
‘Honey trap has no relation with bees.’
‘Then?’
‘It is a method to influence stubborn people, especially politicians,’ Bee Rack explained. ‘Those who set the traps are experts and level of satisfaction is of a very high order.’
‘I’ll ask my men to get more information on this.’
‘I think Emma Melanie could help you out,’ Bee Rack said. ‘She will know some of the tricks. A good student of honey trap must be a good actor and you have quite a few actors in your fold.’
Bee Rack hung up and Moody asked his secretary to send in Pyari Kar, Sue Sharma, Ranee-ji and Emma Melanie.
Since his worries were centered on Na Buzz, he wanted his foreign team for brainstorming. He must recreate a sense of bonhomie with his hard-to-get neighbor. And, if a suitable honey trap could be set up to snare him, it would solve plenty of problems.
When they were all seated, Moody looked up.
‘Have you heard about honey traps?’ he asked.
His audience squirmed uneasily in their seats.
‘If you have not heard then search and get the information,’ Moody said. ‘Then let us plan to set a honey trap.’ Suddenly Baba Someday burst into the room – perspiration glistening on his body.
‘This is not right Moody-ji,’ he complained. ‘You are discussing honey and have forgotten me who is master in all aspects of honey from honey bees to honeymoon.’
‘We are discussing honey traps,’ Moody said with a straight face.
‘What is that?’
‘Yes. That is what we are trying to find out.’ (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org


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