Moody and the half pant brigade (satire)

Moody was staring at a black and white snapshot of himself as a young man selling chai - he wore shorts in those days and felt comfortable in them. Such attires allowed a lot of freedom in movement and, when the air got hot and stifling, especially in the summer months, these half pants were indispensable.
And, all of a sudden, the decision came from above that half pants will make way for full pants.

Suddenly his hot line rang – it was Bee Rack O’Vama.
‘Hi man,’ he began, ‘how are your boundaries? Have you started to mend the fences?’
‘Mending fences is a continuous process,’ Moody replied.
‘I know,’ Bee Rack sighed. ‘I have Vladdy Putty in my hair. He is unpredictable – just like your Naa Buzz. And – I just cannot wish him away. Anyway – let us talk on something more interesting.’
‘Like Diwali?’
‘Yes. I celebrated it in my office. It shows how close we are, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then why don’t you revolt?’
‘Why should I?’
‘Because your bosses are insisting that you wear full pants when I know that you love half pants.’
Moody gave a dry laugh.
‘It is not easy,’ he said. ‘Half pants were OK so long as we remained in the background. But – with the global recognition that we are getting, we have to change tracks.’
‘Hey,’ O’Vama laughed. ‘Half pants look so cute. Bermuda shorts are a craze even in your country. City folks in cars go about in bermudas and capris. Then why did you switch over to long ones?’
‘It is a decision that I cannot question or overrule,’ Moody mumbled.
‘I believe it has got something to do with promoting khadi,’ Bee Rack said. ‘Anyway – hope your better half will return soon from her pilgrimage. My wife wanted to meet her.’
‘That will have to wait,’ Moody said. ‘She lives in her world, I live in mine.’ (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org


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Moody in deep trouble with river waters (satire)

Moody was jotting down points for his next monthly speech over the radio. He wanted to do so many things for the poor, especially ensuring lakhs and lakhs of toilets dotting the landscape. But, the sequence of events was taking him away from his objectives. There was the second infiltration and loss of several lives.
And, to add to that, he was having trouble with the river waters.
He was keen to clean the Ganges and create a Japan-like city on its banks. He longed to see steamers plying on the river carrying people from one place to another. He wanted water transport to share the burden of traffic. But, work on it was progressing too slowly. It could take another couple of centuries.
Then there was another river whose waters were shared by neighboring states. Here also there was continuous bickering about who will get how much water.

And, the latest river was one that originated in another country and, after passing through his own territory, emptied itself in a third country. This river was more important than the other two because it was a strategic option. If properly exploited, it could pay rich dividends.
As Moody was pondering over his line of action, the hotline rang. It was his really good friend Bee Rack O’Vama.
‘Hey man,’ he said. ‘What is this I hear? You want to block water supply to Na Buzz who is supposed to be your buddy?’
Moody gulped.
‘Why should I do that?’ he replied like a true leader. Answer awkward questions by posing a counter question. ‘Water is God’s gift and I cannot deny that to even my worst enemy.’
‘Worst enemy?’ Bee Rack was surprised. ‘I thought that you were real buddies. You had exchanged gifts.’
‘That is history,’ Moody sighed.
‘Why?’
‘He wanted something that I could not give.’
‘And – what was that?’
‘A crate of Alphonso mangoes. This year the quality of mangoes was bad so I could not agree. That made him angry.’
‘But don’t you think that waging a war over water is unbecoming of a man who boasted of his 56-inch-chest?’ Bee Rack asked.
Moody did not have a ready reply.
Suddenly the door to his office opened and Uma-ji entered. There were a number of files in her hand all marked Namami Gange. Behind her came the defense department people and external affairs team. Their files read Indus. And then there were others with files marked Cauvery and Teesta.
All the rivers were in spate and poor Moody was caught in the whirlpool. (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org


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All about chest size and happy days (satire)

It was exactly two years ago that Moody came into the limelight – at the time he was proud of his 56 inches size chest. And, he has had to shoulder a lot of burden during the past two years. The question on everybody’s lips is – is the chest size still 56 inches? Have the happy days come?
Moody was alone in his chamber. All his colleagues had wished him on his achievements and his ministers had been burning the proverbial midnight oil to be ready with statistics to prove that they were the best.
Suddenly his hot line rang. It was Vladdy Putty.
‘Happy days are here again for me,’ he said. ‘I am going to play ice hockey. How are things going for you? What about your happy days?’

‘It is stocktaking time for me,’ Moody replied.
‘You have your fingers in too many pies,’ Putty said. ‘You should take them one by one.’
Moody knew that Putty was not too happy with him because of several reasons – most important being the deals related to arms and ammunition.
‘I have my methods,’ he said.
‘Anyway - first let me congratulate you on your achievements. I hear that you have accelerated activities connected to space travel?’
Moody laughed.
‘All of us are doing it. We want to settle on other planets.’
‘I know. Our planet is overcrowded. That is why we should engage in more wars. Instead of harping on peace we should talk war. War is the only method to reduce the population’
Moody gulped. He felt the talks were veering towards dangerous territories.
‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘There is another caller on the line.’
‘Must be O’Vama – poor fellow. He’ll soon be out of a job. Why don’t you help him out? You have vacancies, don’t you?’’ The phone did ring but it was not O’Vama – it was Na Buzz, one of Moody’s neighbors.
‘Have the happy days finally come?’ he asked. ‘Have you measured?’
‘Measured what?’ Moody asked.
‘The size of your chest. It used to be 56 inches. Is it still the same?’
Moody sighed.
‘My dear friend’ he said. ‘Running a country is no joke. Especially when there is unrest everywhere.’
‘You mean terrorism?’
‘You know what I mean – there is no need to spell it out.’
‘Is that why you never put up in hotels when you go abroad?’
‘Actually I like to take care of myself – that is how my chest size is 56 inches.’
‘And – how are your plans shaping up? Especially the ones about cleaning the Ganges and the bullet rains and the Japanese city in India and the golden quadrangle?’
‘They’ll all come through,’ Moody said. ‘Rome was not built in one day.’
‘I know. I also know that Japan was destroyed in one day.’ (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Mama comes calling on Moody (satire)

It was a special day for all mothers and Moody’s mama was no exception. She came calling on him and took him by surprise. He had to reschedule his activities to show her around his sprawling garden and he did it in style. He donned a totally different dress and looked great in his T-shirt and tight trousers.
Actually, her sudden visit would have taken him by surprise but for the phone call from his long forgotten neighbor. Moody was packing up for the day when the phone call came.
‘How are you my friend?’ Na Buzz asked.
‘I’m fine, how about you?’ Moody replied.
‘I wanted our friendship to grow but that is not happening,’ Na Buzz sighed. ‘I still remember when you invited me over for your coronation. We exchanged gifts for our mothers.’

‘It was good while it lasted,’ Moody said. ‘But, good things do not last forever.’
‘I know,’ Na Buzz said. ‘Uncle Sam is angry with me. He does not want to sell me his fighters.’
‘Most unfortunate. Tell me – why did you ring up?’
‘I was remembering Mother’s Day,’ Na Buzz said. ‘I just thought how nice it would be if we had our mothers with us. By the way – how is your mother?’
‘She is just fine.’
‘She stays in your village, right?’
‘Yes. She is happy there.’
‘I think you will soon get a surprise,’ Na Buzz gave a light laugh.
‘Surprises are not new to me,’ Moody replied.
‘Why don’t you invite your mother over to your place? I know you have a wonderful garden – she would love to see the flowers.’
‘Na Buzz-ji, what is it that you are trying to tell me?’
‘You will know soon enough,’ Na Buzz laughed. ‘My information network is better than yours. Obviously, your intelligence network has failed.’
Na Buzz disconnected and Moody had his dinner and retired to his bed. And, next morning, his mother was there at his gate. She had arrived unannounced. The guard stopped her and when she revealed her identity, they rang up Moody and he came running.
Later in the day, Na Buzz rang up again.
‘Have you wished your mother Happy Mother’s Day?’ he asked.
‘I have,’ Moody said. ‘But – how did you know?’
‘I told you, I have my methods,’ Na Buzz replied. ‘I was just wondering – why don’t we go in for another round of spreading goodwill?’
‘How?’
‘My mother loves Alphonso mangoes. And – I know your people love onions. That could be a starting point.’ (to be continued …)


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Moody hates hotels and feels more at home in his aircraft (satire)

It was a conference of world leaders and Moody was supposed to attend. Present in the hall were Bee Rack O’Vama, Day Weed, Vladdy Putty, Angel Miracle, Fancy Holland, Na Buzz and a host of others. The subject of discussion was, obviously, terrorism.
Suddenly a mobile phone rang – it was for Day Weed.
‘Yes,’ he spoke, ‘his flight has landed?’
There was a huge sigh of relief all around. Moody had arrived and would soon be with them. The vehicle had been sent to the tarmac to pick him up and bring him directly to the hall.

‘Hey man,’ Bee Rack O’Vama leaned towards Day Weed. ‘I think Moody hates hotels.’
‘Yes,’ Day Weed said. ‘That’s why he remains in his aircraft and we have to arrange his transport to and from the tarmac.’
‘Actually he could have modified his aircraft to something like Air Force One which can carry his special vehicle,’ O’Vama said. ‘He can use it wherever he goes instead of being cooped up in the aircraft.’
‘If you ask me, I think he feels more comfortable among his own people,’ Vladdy Putty added his comments. ‘Moody has seen enough of the world to realize that he needs to be more accessible to others.’
‘Yeah,’ O’Vama said. ‘Wherever he goes, he meets and mingles with his own people.’
‘You can’t blame him for that,’ it was now the turn of Na Buzz to have his say. ‘Moody is a good man – he makes it a point to give gifts.’
‘That helps to create a sort of bond,’ Day Weed said. ‘But the novelty soon wears off.’
‘Can anyone tell me why he loves to remain in his aircraft,’ Angel Miracle now asked. ‘Is it a hidden fear of terrorist attacks?’
Vladdy Putty gave a hearty laugh.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ he replied.
‘Why do you rule out the possibility?’ Day Weed asked.
‘He always moves about with his special band of security,’ Putty explained. ‘They are experts in yoga and can wield a stick like no one has ever done. They are his own brand of soldiers.’
‘You mean the half-pant brigade?’ Day Weed asked.
‘You have hit the nail on the head,’ Putty grinned. ‘But – they are changing over to trousers.’
‘Why?’
‘Because half-pants look strange outside Moody’s country. And, the frequency of his foreign visits is on the increase. Therefore, the men entrusted with his security have to be in step with the times. Hence, the changeover.’
It was at this moment that Moody entered the conference hall and beamed at the august gathering – he was flanked by his bodyguards who wielded stout sticks. (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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