‘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 …)


Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Mandir robs Moody of his sleep (satire)

Moody entered his chamber and found a packet on his table. There was no name of the sender and, before he could pick up the intercom to ask his PA, the instrument broke the silence.
‘Yes?’ Moody was still drowsy. Hash Budden had prescribed mild sedatives for a good sleep but, Moody was apprehensive of such medicines. He relied more on Baba Someday’s remedies.
‘Have you got the message?’ Rum Mudda asked.
‘What message?’
‘Check your table, it must be there,’ Rum sounded irritated.
Moody looked and discovered only a pile of letters in his in tray – must be fresh arrivals.
‘There are a few letters in my in-tray,’ he said. ‘Tell me which the urgent one is. I’ll action it without any delay.’ ‘You mean you have not received the packet?’
‘Packet?’
‘Yes – it weighs around hundred grams,’ Rum Mudda asked.
‘What about its dimensions?’
‘Moody-ji, I am talking about the mandir,’ Mudda was exasperated.

‘Oh!’ Moody sighed. ‘I have explained it to you. My boys are on the job.’
‘I know,’ Rum Mudda said. ‘I have sent you a model of the temple. I want you to keep it on your table in front of your eyes. I do not want you to forget about it. Our very existence depends on the mandir.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Moody assured Rum Mudda.
‘Last year you were so busy on your foreign trips. The novelty must have worn off by now. So, it is time that you got down to business.’
Rum Mudda wanted the mandir, Subba Shami has begun talking about mandir, Baba Someday was also becoming impatient. Everyone wants the mandir and, our friend Moody was losing his precious sleep. As it is, his quota of sleep has been reducing with every passing day and, even by doing yoga, he had difficulty in remembering.
Like the time he mistook mandir for Mandira and another time fur madira – both were taboo for him. Mandira had made a name for herself in the field of cricket, and madira was a concoction that could rob you of your senses and make you dance to others’ tunes.
Suddenly he got the bright idea – there were still so many countries left to visit. He had thought of offloading the task to Sue Sharma. But – he was still the boss. The world has come to respect him. They identify India with Moody. He cannot let go of that advantage.
Mandir will not disappear but his chances might. (to be continued …)

(Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Rum Mudda reminds Moody about temples (satire)

Moody was subdued. Normally he took the lead but, of late, he was apprehensive. The ringing of the phone kept jolting him out of his trance. Yes, he was in a sort of a trance. Ever since the infiltration of bees, his friends from across the Seas kept reminding him that he must tread with greater caution. One must be careful while handling roses, they have thorns.
Suddenly the dreaded phone rang.
‘What is happening to my temple?’ it was Rum Mudda at the other end. He was Moody’s Boss and he sounded to be in a not-too-happy mood.
‘Temple?’ Moody squirmed in his chair.
‘Yes,’ Mudda expressed his annoyance. ‘I expected that you would put the matter on the fast track. But you are moving at a snail’s pace.’
‘I have my liabilities,’ Moody tried to explain. ‘It is a sensitive issue and it has to be given sufficient time. It falls in the category of ‘handle with care.’ Haste will make waste.’

‘What do you mean?’ Rum Mudda was impatient.
‘Work is on in full swing,’ Moody said. ‘I am keeping a tab on the progress and am getting regular feedback.’
‘But – we must declare a timeframe.’
‘Don’t worry Mudda-ji, all will come in due course. You cannot put the cat before the horse. Therefore, you must have patience.’
‘Oh Moody-ji, we have waited too long, we want to see the temple.’
‘Our boys have made a model. I have seen it when I last visited the workshop. It is just the right size to fit into the cavity of the rocket.’
‘Workshop? Rocket? What are you talking about?’ Rum Mudda flared up.
‘I am talking about the model of the temple that our boys in ISRO are making. They will send it to Mars in Mangalyaan-2. We will do what America or Russia or France or Japan have never thought of doing. We will position our temple, the first ever temple, on the Red Planet Mars. It will be a tribute to my Make in India philosophy.’ (to be continued …)

(Image courtesy wikimediacommons.org

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Lord Shiva wants temples on the Moon and Mars (satire)

Lord Shiva came out of his cave in Mount Kailash and was surprised to see a festive mood all around. Nandi, his faithful bull was chewing the cud leisurely at the entrance to the cave while Bhringi, his trusted Man Friday was busy hanging up colored festoons.
‘What is the matter? Shiva asked no one in particular. He knew that Durga must be somewhere nearby and would brief him.
‘We will be celebrating,’ Durga came into view followed by her tame lion, swishing its tail. ‘What celebration?’ Shiva wanted to know.
‘New Year Day,’ Durga replied. ‘I have sent SMS to Menoka and Rambha. They are brushing up on the latest dance numbers and will be here with their troupes.’

‘I don’t recollect holding of any such celebrations in the past in Mount Kailash,’ Lord Shiva leaned on his trishul and mused.
‘Times are changing,’ Durga said. ‘Today, everyone wants an occasion to celebrate.’
‘That may be OK for the measly humans, but why should we copy their lifestyle? We belong to a different world!’
‘My dear husband, boundaries are crumbling,’ Durga said. ‘Sworn enemies suddenly drop by to meet over a birthday, shake hands and return home hoping to end hostilities.’
‘I heard earthlings want to leave this earth and go and settle on other planets.’
‘Yes – I have also heard about that,’ Durga said. ‘They want to settle on the Moon and on Mars. I wonder whether they will find other Durga and Shiva up there! If they do, then our days will be numbered’
‘I have an idea,’ Shiva whispered.
‘What?’
‘You know that Moody fellow? The one who is always on the move?’
‘What about him?’
‘I believe he is a dynamic go-getter,’ Shiva went on. ‘Get into his dream one of these days and tell him to send our statues to the Moon and to Mars in the next space ship that ISRO plans to send. That will be the solution.’
‘How?’
‘He and his people are obsessed with temples, right?’ Shiva grinned.
‘Yes.’
‘Well – let them be the first to build Shiva and Durga temples on other distant planets like the Moon and Mars before anybody can even think of building churches or gurdwaras or mosques.’
‘That’ll be a great idea,’ Durga agreed. ‘I’ll target Moody and all of his followers, especially that Rum Mudda character.’ (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)

Some more interesting links -

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Baba Someday to use gobar gas and yoga for space flights (satire)

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