Moody gives Sue Sharma a chance to go abroad (satire)

Moody is seldom in any dilemma. He is always one step ahead of others and has mastered the art of always being in the limelight. But, there comes a time in the life of every man when he finds himself at the crossroads and has to make a judicious decision.
Therefore it came to pass that he called in his elite group of most trusted lieutenants and announced his decision. ‘I think Sue Sharma will be the best choice,’ he said.
Sue Sharma appeared surprised while Jet Lee and Nitty Gadcurry exchanged glances and Baba Someday looked at Ranee-ji and Uma-ji and shrugged his shoulders.
‘Yes,’ Moody clarified. ‘I will be busy with my tours to the states because my voice can win over the people from there into our camp. I want to see lotuses flourish everywhere.’

‘And – Sue Sharma-ji will make the trips to follow up the latest development on the port in Iran and also have talks with the leaders behind the bamboo curtain on terrorism, right?’ Jet Lee asked.
‘Yes,’ Moody said. ‘Only – Sue-ji must wear something that does not hurt the feelings of our hosts. They are very conservative, especially with their attire.’
‘The women there cover their body from head to toe with their unique dress. And – the cover must include the hair also.’
‘I know,’ Sue Sharma said. ‘I’ll never wear anything that will harm our interests. I, like all of us here, want good relation with everybody. I will be a brand ambassador for our country and will always have an eye open for business potentials.’
‘Yes – keep in mind our buzzwords,’ Moody reminded. ‘Skill, digital, swatchh, make - and, it all has to do with our country. We want to shed all the earlier tags and prosper.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Sue assured. ‘I know the tricks of the trade.’
‘The bamboo curtain people are two faced,’ Moody cautioned. ‘They lost out on the bullet train and are trying to twist our arm on the terrorism affair.’
‘I will take care of that,’ Sue smiled. ‘I can put a spoke in their plans to market their cheap decorative garlands this Diwali.’
‘Yes,’ Baba Someday was all ears. ‘I have set up a separate factory to manufacture those multicolored garlands and the products will hit the markets before Diwali. I can easily ease out foreign competition.’
When Sue Sharma left the chamber, she was in high spirits. At last she was getting some sort of recognition. Probably her boss was tired of spending his days and nights cooped up in the aircraft on the tarmac. (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Moody wants to see smiling faces all around (satire)

It was a tough job to tackle growing menace of people who should keep their mouths shut but, no matter how he reacted, Moody discovered that there will always be people who spew venom and he had to rein in such rowdy elements. That was his agenda of the day and, in order to assist him in his exercise, he had with him the brains - on top of the list were his trusted lieutenants Jet Lee, Sue Sharma, Banka Nadoo, Nitty Gadcurry and Rajanna King.
‘I pity the young man,’ Moody chuckled to himself. ‘He should know that little knowledge is a dangerous thing.’
‘It is a result of faulty upbringing,’ Banka Nadoo said. ‘Empty vessels make most sound.’
‘Yes,’ Sue Sharma agreed. ‘I felt pity for the kid. He was tying himself up into knots.’

‘Of course he had a purpose,’ Jet Lee sounded serious. ‘He was, no doubt, playing to the galleries but the galleries were empty. He is moving ahead. He has changed over time and will be fun to play around with.’
Moody looked at Rajanna King who was playing the role of a silent spectator.
‘What is your opinion?’ Moody asked him directly.
‘We should take a proper decision,’ he said.’ We must not rush into anything. It may boomerang as we have seen with that other kid.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Moody was calm. ‘That is a passing phase. Our people are there and they know how to tackle such situations. Youngsters will shout their heads off and we, as seniors, can keep a watch on developments. Talking about developments – where has your river linking project come Gadcurry-ji?’
‘Actually Uma-ji is deep into her Ganga cleaning activities and I am waiting for her feedback on how deep the water is. Once I get that feedback, I will plan my routes. Varanasi will, of course, be in the center of activities.’
“And – center of attraction,’ Moody reminded. ‘It will undergo sea change and become a mini Japanese city. Our friends in the land of the rising Sun are excited.’
‘I know,’ Nitty Gadcurry said. ‘Bullet and Varanasi are our trump cards. Folks from behind the bamboo curtain are unhappy but we cannot please everybody, can we?’
‘The black money is a tricky issue,’ Jet Lee admitted. ‘Baba Someday is also unhappy. He had expected that the money would roll in and fill our coffers but, that is not happening.’
Moody became philosophical.
‘We all know that Rome was not built in a day,’ he said. ‘We must have patience. We have many more miles to go. This is not the end of the world. I want to see smiling faces all around me. Let us smile for a selfie.’ (to be continued …)


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Moody and his French connection (satire)

Moody was in a pensive mood. He was alone in his chamber and was shuffling a pack of cards. He loved to play the game of Patience once in a while and, when the bug bit him, he would switch on the ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign and busy himself playing cards.
He was always a loner and Patience was his favorite game.
Suddenly his phone rang. It was his new found French connection Francis Highland. Both of them had shared plenty of thoughts while riding the Delhi Metro.
‘Oi Monsieur,’ Moody said.
‘Kemchhey?’ Francis wanted to show off his skills.
‘Saruchhey,’ Moody replied. ‘Tell me - what do you have in mind now?’
‘I want to sign one more MOU,’ Francis replied.

‘About manufacture?’
‘Yes – manufacture of those delightful yellow, fluffy, mouthwatering dhoklas,’ the Frenchman said. ‘It will be a joint venture. Your manpower and expertise and my profits. You make in India, I sell in France.’
‘Good, we’ll add it in our agenda.’
Francis Highland cut off the phone and suddenly there was a discreet knock on the door.
Moody quickly gathered the cards, shoved them in his table drawer and switched off the ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign.
The door opened and Jet Lee peered in.
‘May I come in?’ he asked.
Moody stroked his nicely cropped beard and waved him in.
‘I want to congratulate you on being the most popular leader of today,’ Jet Lee said.
‘I know. But, right now I have something else on my mind,’ Moody twirled the pencil in between his fingers. ‘You can share it with me. I’ll keep it a secret,’ Jet Lee assured.
‘I want to make some changes in the portfolios of my ministers,’ Moody said. ‘So many months are over and even now there are a number of slots vacant. That is not correct.’
‘How will changing portfolios solve the problem? You will, actually, need more ministers.’
‘No. I want to give the present ministers additional responsibilities. Like the river cleaning ministry. The concerned minister loves cows. I want to club both.’
‘But – cows have been taken over already by Someday Baba – you now him, don’t you? He is the man who produces gobar gas and uses it to generate electricity for his noodles factory. He also has his men drawing up plans to send a mission to the Moon using gobar gas as fuel.’
‘I love my ministers,’ Moody looked pleased. ‘They are going out of their way to create a new culture where anything foreign is taboo – except, of course, the bullet train and the Rafael fighter planes. We can also accept foreigners in our ceremonial parades. But – we must not imitate their dress codes or food habits. All those short revealing dresses and beef are not our culture.’ (to be continued …)


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Emma Melaney ready to dance, thanks to Moody (satire)

There was a gentle knock on the door and, opening it a fraction of an inch, a face peeped in to find the mighty Moody twirling a pencil as he looked at the papers on his table.
‘May I come in?’ the owner of the face asked.
Moody looked up, recognized Emma Melaney, the dancer, and nodded. Moody was a man of few words – it seems people in his position need to keep mum most of the time. It was a precedent set by the earlier incumbent and Moody had embraced it. It saved a lot of trouble.
Emma entered, gave Moody a huge smile and said – ‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’ Moody wanted to know.
‘For giving me the land to set up my dance school,’ Emma said and sat down in a chair opposite Moody. ‘I have been trying to get it for the last two decades and now my dream will come true.’

‘Oh,’ Moody said. ‘But – two decades back I was not in the picture. So – why thank me?’
‘You are so humble,’ Emma Melaney said. ‘I know you had given the go ahead for the idea. Unless you approve, even the leaves would not dare to move. You are so strong. People are afraid of your might and your 56-inch chest.’
‘Allotment of land is not a problem,’ Moody said. ‘There is a proposal to have another new Parliament building – I think you know about that?’
‘Yes – you are the harbinger of change,’ Emma praised Moody sky high. ‘World leaders hold you in high esteem. Because of you, tigers and cows drink from the same pond. You have become an expert in running with the hares and hunting with the foxes.’
Moody closed his eyes and wandered off to another world.
The year was coming to an end and, in spite of his monthly ‘monkey baat’ he still had plenty to say. He wanted to see Emma dance, he wanted to see the Bullet train run, he wanted to see a new Parliament House, he wanted to see a clean Ganga, he wanted to see spotlessly clean cities, he wanted to see pollution free atmosphere, he wanted to see corruption free society – his wish list was a long one.
Suddenly the hotline rang. It was from the Big Man himself.
‘Yes,’ Moody forgot Emma and half stood up from his chair.
‘Remember your tasks for 2016?’ Rum Mudda asked.
‘Yes – the temple,’ Moody said.
‘And?’
‘Reunification – create the undivided Bharat,’ Moody replied.(to be continued …)

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Momo and sushi gear up to dislodge jilebi and pedhas (satire)

Lord Shiva was pacing up and down his cave in Kailash – he was watching an Indian city gradually turning Japanese and he did not want the identity to be lost.
Devi Durga was keeping an eye on him from a distance – she knew the signs. When he was disturbed, the Lord would go into the mute mood and she just could not tolerate him when he became silent.
‘What is biting you?’ she finally asked.
‘Have you not seem today’s TV news?’ he shot back.
‘There is nothing new,’ she replied. ‘The news was about snowfall in Kashmir, in Nainital, in Amarnath ..’
‘That is not news,’ Shiva grunted. ‘When it is winter and the temperature drops, snow fall is normal. I am talking about Japan.’
Durga was taken aback.
‘I must have missed it,’ she apologized. ‘I was in the kitchen trying out a new dish. It’s all about leaves and how to cook a khichdi of leaves. The celebrity cook used at least ten different varieties of leaves – and, she served it up on a banana leaf!’

‘Please don’t test my temper,’ Shiva growled. ‘I am talking about one of our cities turning into Japan. There is a huge program and soon we will have Japan right here in our country.’
Durga smiled.
‘Oh, you mean the bullet train?’ she asked.
‘No - I mean bye-bye to drains,’ Shiva said. ‘Once the city transforms into a mini Japan, what will happen to all those sadhus who earn their daily bread by sitting on the banks of the Ganga? And – all those bulls on the roads? And – the beggars? They are not seen in Japan.’
‘They will certainly be rehabilitated,’ Durga assured.
‘OK – and all those mithailwallahs? Will they shift to selling momos and sushis?’
‘Well – they are good to eat. The people will love the change from century-old jilebis and pedhas. Actually – they are bad for health. Too much of sweets leads to diabetes and obesity.’
‘My dear, you seem to have an answer for everything.’
Durga smiled.
‘Let me tell you a secret.’
‘What?’
‘An MOU has been signed to set up an academy in this city – it will teach how to make the mouth-watering momo and shushi.’ (to be continued …)

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