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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Moody wants Gold medals from Olympics (satire)

Moody was all praises for the participants of the 2016 Rio Olympics but was saddened at the lack of gold medals – gold is the accepted recognition and when tiny nondescript countries can boast of a crop of gold, such is not the case with Moody’s land of several billion.
Moody therefore called in his team of specialists – Jet Lee, Sue Sharma, Uma-ji, Ranee-ji, Hash Budden, Baba Someday, Emma Melaney, Pro Cash, Banka Nadoo and Rum Mudda. Each of them was a gem and could contribute to the cause.
‘Koel-ji,’ Moody looked towards Vee Jay Koel who had a close association with the Olympics team in Rio. ‘You have seen the Olympics from very close quarters. What is your impression? Why could others bag so many gold but not us?’ ‘It is their attitude,’ Koel-ji said. ‘They train from the KG stage – and aim for the gold.’
‘Why can’t we do it here?’ Moody asked.
‘Who said we can’t?’ Koel retorted.
‘Then let us do it,’ Moody said. ‘All the heads are here today and we can work out a strategy.’
‘We could concentrate on swimming,’ Koel-ji said. ‘Our children swim to their schools and there is a cry to build bridges to cross the rivers. I think we should not do that.’
‘Nonsense,’ Moody said. ‘We must look after their welfare. They are our assets.’
‘I know,’ Koel-ji smiled. ‘We will give them swimwear and encourage them to swim to school. Give award to kids who prove their stamina.’

Jet Lee now cleared his throat.
‘Actually, here our farmers toil in the fields to grow crops – but, that does not get us any gold,’ he said. ‘We must train them to always have the concept of gold in front of their eyes.’
‘I can help in this respect,’ Baba Someday intervened.
‘Let us hear your idea,’ Moody glanced towards the shiny black beard of the Baba.
‘I can rename the fertilizers as Gold fertilizers,’ he said. ‘And my ad pitch for it would be – use bags of Gold to bag Olympics Gold.’
It was now the turn of Pro Cash to have his say. He was the man responsible to develop human resources.
‘In my opinion, we have a brilliant pool of gold medalists who break their heads to unearth IT solutions,’ Pro Cash said. ‘They are in great demand abroad. It is difficult for them to divert their attention to Olympics Gold.’ Moody laughed.
‘Exceptions can always emerge,’ he said. ‘There are engineers who are stars in cricket. Then why can’t a gold medalist in computers bag a gold in shooting? That does not require physical strength like in boxing or wrestling or in gymnastics or in marathon running.’
Pro Cash gulped.
‘I think we can take inspiration from some famous songs,’ Emma Melaney said. ‘Songs like ‘mera dharti sona ugle, ugle heera moti …’
‘Let me make it clear,’ Moody spoke again. ‘We must reverse the trend. I want our sportspersons to bag golds – one for each state.’(to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org


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Moody’s whirlwind trip - five countries in six days (satire)

From the general perception of people, a few traits have emerged that would tend to describe our friend Moody as a man who loves to travel. He does have ministers who are assigned to look after external affairs but Moody is very particular about his foreign contacts. He, therefore, relies on no one else but himself to draw up his strategies.
He had called for a meeting with his trusted ministers and accordingly they had arrived. There was Jet Lee, Sue Sharma, Banka Nadoo, Emma Melanie, Nitty Gad Curry, Ranee-ji, Uma-ji and, of course, Baba Someday.
‘We wish you a happy journey,’ Sue Sharma said at the end of the meeting.
‘Thank you,’ Moody relied.
‘I hope you will take good care of your health,’ Emma Melanie said. ‘You have a very hectic schedule ahead of you with the Yoga Day appearing. I will be presenting a new form of dance with my group on the occasion.’

‘You mean the Yogi dance?’ Ranee-ji asked in a whisper.
‘Yes,’ Emma also lowed her voice.
‘And then there are the two most important points,’ Baba Someday reminded.
‘You mean Black money?’
‘Yes,’ Baba wiped his moustaches. ‘You had committed to get them back and I was confident that you would. But – time is passing and there is not much progress.’
‘We are already in dialogue with the foreign authorities,’ Jet Lee intervened.
‘You are talking like your predecessors,’ Baba was not convinced.
At last Moody spoke.
‘I have my priorities,’ he said. ‘Right now I am on a mission to invite business. I want foreigners to come here and make their products. I also want our products to flood the world markets. Baba here has already made a wonderful start and, during my visit, I’ll pursue this point also.’
‘I’ll get some samples of honey loaded in your plane,’ Baba said.
‘You don’t have to worry about that,’ Moody said. ‘My men have already got them loaded in the plane. Remember, I am running the country and I know what is best.’
‘Have you loaded some bottles of Gangajal?’ Uma-ji wanted to know.
‘Yes. I’ll distribute the samples to Indians in those countries. I want to spread the message of goodwill and peace.’ ‘Would you drop in unannounced on any one this time?’ Sue Sharma was curious to know.
‘I might, ‘Moody said. ‘Our neighbor is in hospital with some heart related problem.’
‘He should get a change of heart,’ Sue said. ‘Then there would be real peace in our surroundings.’ (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Moody and his American connections (satire)

Moody grinned to himself as he remembered the first time he had set foot on American soil. There had been apprehensions about how his visit would turn out but, he need not have worried because Lord Hanuman was a constant companion of the President of the United States. He always carried an idol of Lord Hanuman in his pocket.
Suddenly Sue Sharma entered his cabin.
There was a huge smile on her face and a bunch of newspapers in her hand. It was obvious that she was in good spirits and her health was OK.
‘Have you got the news?’ she asked as she occupied the chair opposite Moody’s.
‘News are always happening,’ Moody said. ‘Including breaking news. Tell me – what is your news about?’
‘Fighter planes,’ Sue Sharma replied.

‘You mean our fighter plane Tejas has found a market?’
‘Not Tejas, I’m talking about the Americans.’
‘Americans? I don’t understand. I’m supposed to go there next month to address their leaders. They want to know our secret of leadership. To them, ours is a one man show. I want to correct that perception.’
‘I’m talking about the fighter planes America was supposed to sell to our neighbor.’
‘Oh that?’ Moody was at ease with himself. ‘You’ll tell me that they have backed out, right?’
‘How did you guess?’ Sue was surprised.
‘I have my methods,’ Moody said. ‘You say they have backed out?’
‘Not exactly backed out but they have put some conditions.’
‘That was my masterstroke,’ Moody said. ‘I had agreed to attend their June event provided they cancelled the deal with our neighbor. I had told them – if you want my advice you must agree to my terms.’
‘And they want your advice badly, right?’
‘Yes, the tea shop is a wonderful platform for learning the nitty gritty of politics. I should know.’
‘That is why the Bengalis are so politically conscious,’ Sue added. ‘They have tea shops at every street corner. And – the kids graduate from those tea shops to coffee house’
Suddenly the door opened and Emma Melaney entered with Ranee-ji and Uma-ji in tow.
‘Have you heard the latest?’ Emma asked.
‘You mean about our Bollywood actress who got invited by the President to his dinner?’
‘Who told you?’
‘I have my methods,’ Moody said. ‘It is linked to fighters.’
‘Fighter planes,’ Sue added. ‘Fighter planes and neighbors. Our Boss knows just how to keep them in their places. It’s all about the right connections.’ (to be continued …)


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Moody comes face to face with a hijacker in midair (satire)

Moody was off on another of his foreign jaunts and his team of ministers were there at the airport to see him off. Once inside the aircraft, and surrounded by his henchmen and muscle men, he retired to his corner, looked out of the window and watched the ground staff applying finishing touches to the takeoff.
A steward came up with a tray on which was a glass of fresh water. He removed the cover of the glass and stood at attention as Moody picked up the glass, took a sip of pure water and returned the glass.
The purity of the water was certified by the Food and Drinks department.
He now closed his eyes and went over in his mind on what he would do in the course of his visit. Yes, he would ensure meeting NRIs in those places and invite them to return back to India and become a part of his projects. He would also try to influence the leaders to invest in his various drives, especially cleanliness. He will make it a point to extract information on how they keep their surrounding so clean and how their trains are so punctual and how they track down terrorists.

Suddenly his mobile phone rang. It was Sue Sharma on the line.
‘Yes,’ he wanted to know.
‘There has been a hijacking,’ Sue whispered.
‘Any Indians involved?’ Moody asked.
‘So far no news to worry about, but my men are checking up. I’ll keep you informed.’
‘Where did this happen?’
‘In the Middle East. The hijacker wore a suicide vest.’
The aircraft was airborne by now and Moody looked around him. His bodyguards were in their seats and in the yoga mood – they had their eyes closed and were breathing in and out and he could see their chests moving rhythmically.
Moody was happy – everything was going like clockwork.
Suddenly a woman came up to him and Moody was surprised. Except for a few of his ministers like Sue Sharma, Emma Melaney, Uma-ji and Ranee-ji, he tried to avoid coming in close contact with members of the opposite sex.
She smiled at him and sat on one of the empty seats. Moody could see the skirt ride over her knees and he turned his glance away. He was annoyed – his bodyguards should not have allowed her to come into his private area.
‘Hi,’ the girl greeted him. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’ll not harm you if you listen to me.’
She was speaking in a low tome, just above the whisper.
Moody tried to ignore her.
‘Look at me,’ she said and removed her pullover. Beneath was what looked like a special vest. She now leaned over and smiled. ‘This is a suicide vest I am wearing. I plan to hijack your plane and I want you to help me.’
Moody was sweating by now. He suddenly found that he had lost is voice. He wanted to call out to his bodyguards but they were still in the yoga trance. He tried to get up from his seat but lost his balance – and discovered that he was alone in his cubicle. (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Moody realizes that it takes two to tango (satire)

The newspapers were full of it and the video had gone viral on the net – it showed Uncle Sam doing the tango while on a visit to a distant land. It was a shock to not only Moody but to all his colleagues because all of them belonged to a very conservative group where such casual relationships are just not accepted.
Moody kept aside the newspaper and reached for his intercom but the hot line rang and he was all attention. Think of the devil and he was on the line!
‘Hullo,’ he greeted his caller.
‘Hey man, I was just wondering if you have ever done the tango,’ it was Uncle Sam himself at the other end.
‘Tango?' Moody asked. ‘I know about mango – but, what is this tango?’
‘It is a form of dance,’ Uncle Sam said. ‘And – it takes two to tango.’
‘You mean it is not like those dance forms where one dancer can keep a hall-full of audience spellbound for hours like our Emma Melaney?’
‘No – tango is not a one man or one woman show. And – the partner need not be related.’

Moody cleared his throat. He was on a sticky wicket and did not want to stumble. Wherever he had gone, he had faced quizzical glances from people around him and skillfully avoided the silent question that must have made them suppress giggles.
‘Our culture is different to yours,’ he said.
‘But – when I see your movies, I get a feeling that our cultures overlap at times.’
‘The world of movies is a different kettle of fish,’ Moody tried to laugh away the uneasy feeling. ‘It is all about cultivating the global community – that is where the dollars come from.’
‘Good to know that you also have a weakness for dollars,’ Uncle Sam said. ‘Anyway – I did not ring up for that. I just want to know whether you have conducted family get-togethers for members of your ministry.’
‘Why do you ask such a question?’
‘Because I have heard that your people have a strong family feeling – and, with this festival of colors called Holi, families meet and throw water and color and drink some sort of concoction that plays havoc with their senses. The women and girls romp about in wet clothes that cling to their bodies. And, then, no one really knows what finally happens and who teams up with whom.’
‘I think you are ill informed,’ Moody said.
‘Aw – cummon man, let’s face it. There is nothing really wrong with tango. It is a means to let your hair down, to get rid of tensions. Once you try it out you will feel the difference.’ (to be continued …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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‘Make in India’ concept to market Ganga water (satire)

#makeindia When you have a new entity venturing into the world of development and when the top brains from all over the world remains at his beck and call, you can expect to get blasts of slogans like the ‘Make in India.’
‘It is a revolutionary concept,’ Rum Mudda praised its creator. ‘It is curiosity that will attract the manufacturers. We have created the zero and, we were the first to fly in the chariot.’
‘Exactly,’ Banka Nadoo agreed with Rum Mudda. ‘The Pushpak Rath happened millions of years before the Wright brothers saw the light of day.’
‘Yes – Make In India will turn out to be a win-win situation,’ Jet Lee joined the conversation. ‘It is a modified P-P-P module. The foreigners will come here with their expertise, make their products here with our manpower and market them all over the globe.’

‘Actually, I am not depending on foreigners,’ Baba Someday wiped his beard and said. ‘My ‘Pat & Jolie’ outfit is totally Indian. I make in India and sell them all over the world. My trade secret will die with me.’
‘I think the agarbatties could do with some French touch,’ Emma Melaney said. ‘We have our indigenous fragrances but a French connection would add to the charm.’
‘I know,’ Moody spoke at last. ‘I have mentioned it in passing to the French delegation when they had come here for the R-Day.’
‘What about our expertise in dhokla?’ Sue Sharma asked.
‘The Chinese have shown interest,’ Moody clarified. ‘They want to join the food wagon. They want to Make in India and present to the world. They have even plans to send samples to the Space Station.’
‘Good idea,’ Pro Cash gave his charming smile. ‘Stuff like dhokla, idili, dosa are all examples of fermentation. And, proper nurturing of the taste buds can win over any opposition.’
‘But we should not lose track of major industries,’ Rum Mudda reminded.
‘Don’t worry,’ Moody assured. ‘We have our sights on collaboration in the fields that matter.’
‘Yes,’ Nitty Gadcurry said. ‘We will get hold of P-P-P in manufacturing buses, trains, aero planes, ships and even two wheelers. The future belongs to us.’
‘What about cleaning the Ganga?’ Uma-ji wanted to know.
‘That is also in the agenda. But – someone has to explain how to market it?’ Jet Lee explained.
‘Why?’ Uma-ji was hurt. ‘We will market its water as fresh water. If some country can sell fresh air, there will certainly be a market for fresh water.’ (to be continued …)


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Kimonos and Love in Tokyo for Moody (satire)

From a distance Moody could see a number of people seated outside his office and they did not look like any one he knew in his capacity as the CEO of the country. One group sat a little apart – he could make out that they had with them some equipment.
It all appeared to be a bit mysterious.
It was then that he noticed the women – all of them were well past their prime and would hardly make any head turn but, he had to rely on them.
‘I have brought the people,’ Sue Sharma came up close to Moody and whispered.
‘Who are they?’ Moody asked.
‘They are fashion designers,’ Sue explained. ‘Experts who have a tremendous following in the fashion world. Our heroines depend on their creations.’
“But – I don’t need any new dress,’ Moody said. ‘I have decided to curtail my foreign trips.’
‘No problem’ Sue flashed her pearl white teeth and said. ‘They have Japanese experience.’
‘Japanese?’ Moody’s face lit up.
‘Yes – they have come to show you an assortment of their products. They have used cloth, wool, silk and even polyester.’
‘And – what is their specialty?’
‘Kimonos – the dress that leaves everything to the imagination,’ Sue said.

‘That would be wonderful,’ Moody was pleased. ‘The clothes that girls wear today leaves very little to the imagination. We can change all that.’
‘That is why I invited them in.’
‘Good – and, what about that other group?’
It was now Emma Melaney who came forward.
‘They have brought a film,’ Emma said. ‘It depicts a section of Japanese lifestyle.’
‘Film?’ Moody stared at Emma.
‘Yes – it is an oldie of 1960 vintage but Japanese lifestyle has not changed much. Once you see it you will realize how they behave.’
Moody entered his chamber along with Sue Sharma, Emma Melaney, Ranee-ji, and Uma-ji. The gathering of fashion designers and the movie group also trooped in. And after a round of coconut water, they began to unfold their creations.
It was a wide range of kimonos – the truly Japanese dress. It conceals everything except the face. That is what Moody wanted. Women and girls must wear such a dress that keeps curious eyes at a distance. If enforced, it will do away with many crimes associated with the fairer sex.
The presentations went on and on and, plates of dhokla came and vanished.
And, when they finished, the film group came up. The film they had brought with them was Love in Tokyo’. (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 …)

(Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org)

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