Hillary Clinton: I Know What You Did Last Summer - starring Bill Clinton
Al Gore: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon - George Bush, Sr., George Bush, Jr., and Jeb Bush
Manmohan Singh: Sheena, Queen of the Jungle - starring Sonia Gandhi
Kofi Annan: Who Let The Dogs Out - starring the Rest of the World
Bill Clinton: Last Action Hero - starring Bill Clinton
Osama Bin Laden: Fugitive - starring George Bush
Saddam Hussein: A Beautiful Mind - starring Osama Bin Laden
George Bush: While You Were Sleeping - starring Kofi Annan
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
By George! It's Osama!
In what is being touted as the mother of all coups d'etat in the living memory of mankind, Osama Bin Laden has replaced George Bush as the President of America in a bloodless power transfer. One of Osama's trusted lieutenants went live on CNN to announce to a gasping world that Osama out of "generosity of spirit" decided to rid the American people in particular and mankind in general of the "war-mongering dimwit." Apparently, Dick Cheney continues to be vice president till such time that he can be located, identified, and stripped of his post. President Fidel Castro became the first head of state to congratulate the new president.
Bin Laden has managed to deal a body blow to Republicans and Democrats alike with his astounding announcement that he enlisted the help of former President Bill Clinton for his unchallenged takeover. "Bill was the natural choice in our campaign to restore dignity to the office of the president," Osama told the gathering of correspondents. Bill Clinton was unavailable for comment.
Former President of the United States of Iraq, Saddam Hussein, dissolved into peals of uncontrolled laughter when asked to comment on the developments and had to be helped into his car by his bodyguards.
After close to 6 years of running around like a headless chicken and multiple occasions of shooting himself in the foot, President Bush had proved beyond reasonable doubt that he was America's only president to have been both a stand-up comic and a walking menace at the same time. Even the most eccentric presidents in the past have earned only one of the two sobriquets during their tenure.
Bin Laden's first task is apparently to bring the former president to justice for his crimes against humanity. An astonishing 386 crimes have been attributed to Bush including letting loose Dick Cheney and Arnold Unspellable-Last-Name on an unsuspecting American public - "A nerve gas would be less lethal," Osama has been quoted as saying. When asked to comment, Jeb Bush said, "I want a re-count."
When one of the reporters asked Osama where he had been all this time, the president fixed him with a chilling stare and dead-panned, "Right here...all this time."
When asked for his reaction, Jacques Chirac smirked, "Did you ask Tony?" Meanwhile, the BBC reports that Tony Blair has offered to volunatrily give up his office "to anyone of Usama's choice" in exchange for safe passage into Trinidad and Tobago. "One is annoyed," was all Prince Charles would say. The BBC will air a 1-hour discussion with a panel of eminent journalists to decide whether the Prince is annoyed with Blair, Bin Laden, or Bush (5:30 GMT).
Around the world, reactions have ranged from "shock and awe" to outright disbelief. "I don't believe it, matey," the Australian premier drawled, "but if it's true, congratulations to both of them - at last they found each other. I suppose, now we can all get on with our lives," the jolly premier finished. India and Pakistan are having a joint closed-door meeting to decide how they should react.
President Bush apparently hightailed it from his Texas ranch when news reached him that the White House had a new occupant. "A manhunt is on for the fugitive. Briefing's over" Osama said before walking back into his new office followed by a lady looking distinctly like Hillary Clinton.
Bin Laden has managed to deal a body blow to Republicans and Democrats alike with his astounding announcement that he enlisted the help of former President Bill Clinton for his unchallenged takeover. "Bill was the natural choice in our campaign to restore dignity to the office of the president," Osama told the gathering of correspondents. Bill Clinton was unavailable for comment.
Former President of the United States of Iraq, Saddam Hussein, dissolved into peals of uncontrolled laughter when asked to comment on the developments and had to be helped into his car by his bodyguards.
After close to 6 years of running around like a headless chicken and multiple occasions of shooting himself in the foot, President Bush had proved beyond reasonable doubt that he was America's only president to have been both a stand-up comic and a walking menace at the same time. Even the most eccentric presidents in the past have earned only one of the two sobriquets during their tenure.
Bin Laden's first task is apparently to bring the former president to justice for his crimes against humanity. An astonishing 386 crimes have been attributed to Bush including letting loose Dick Cheney and Arnold Unspellable-Last-Name on an unsuspecting American public - "A nerve gas would be less lethal," Osama has been quoted as saying. When asked to comment, Jeb Bush said, "I want a re-count."
When one of the reporters asked Osama where he had been all this time, the president fixed him with a chilling stare and dead-panned, "Right here...all this time."
When asked for his reaction, Jacques Chirac smirked, "Did you ask Tony?" Meanwhile, the BBC reports that Tony Blair has offered to volunatrily give up his office "to anyone of Usama's choice" in exchange for safe passage into Trinidad and Tobago. "One is annoyed," was all Prince Charles would say. The BBC will air a 1-hour discussion with a panel of eminent journalists to decide whether the Prince is annoyed with Blair, Bin Laden, or Bush (5:30 GMT).
Around the world, reactions have ranged from "shock and awe" to outright disbelief. "I don't believe it, matey," the Australian premier drawled, "but if it's true, congratulations to both of them - at last they found each other. I suppose, now we can all get on with our lives," the jolly premier finished. India and Pakistan are having a joint closed-door meeting to decide how they should react.
President Bush apparently hightailed it from his Texas ranch when news reached him that the White House had a new occupant. "A manhunt is on for the fugitive. Briefing's over" Osama said before walking back into his new office followed by a lady looking distinctly like Hillary Clinton.
Most Significant Event of 2004
President George W (as in Way to go!) Bush's reelection: Thanks to a forgetably obscure campaign by John What's-His-Name, President Bush is back in the driver's seat for another joy ride. So, sit back, ladies and gentlemen, for 4 more years of drunken driving. By the way, DUIs are now legal in America. Driving under the influence of - well, certainly not Diet Coke - has never been this much fun. As the rebel without a cause gets ready for his January swearing (make that "swearing-in" if you're very particular), America's Intelligence Chief Porter Goss (that's his real name!) has a major problem on his hands - in his own words: "Now where did we put Cheney?" Apparently, Porter Goss (pronounced Tee Hee) and his men locked up blink-and-you'll-miss-me Cheney in a bunker at an undisclosed location and threw away the keys. Now, no one can remember where they put him. He could be anywhere, from Abu Ghraib to Guantanamo Bay - they've been so busy locking up people of late - and he doesn't even know yet that he's still Veep because the one thing Goss' men are certain of is that there was no television in that bunker. Dubya is, however, confident Cheney will show up "on someone's radar" when his ICD reaches its elective replacement indicator.
Meanwhile, Mama Bush is planning a book release. The book was jointly co-authored by her husband, the real McCoy. Titled "Grow Up, Junior" the book has been signed by 131 heads of state excluding the Japanese Emperor who's still sulking over Junior's refusal to endorse the Kyoto Treaty. In what is fast heading to be a decade-long sulk, the Emperor bowed deeply and refused to sign. He hasn't forgotten Hiroshima either, and he wasn't exactly thrilled with the Bobby Fischer fiasco too (he has some serious problems, this Emperor), especially the insinuation that Fischer was hiding all these years in Japan. Japan is roughly as big as my office lunchroom. Where do you hide in Japan?!? Bobby Fischer (to jog your memory) defied mighty Uncle Sam to travel to Yugoslavia (now it's called something else, and it's somewhere else) in 1992 to play chess with Boris Spassky. When US authorities served notice on him for violating a ban, he did the sanest thing he could think of: He spat on the paper and tore it up and told them, very calmly, to take a hike. He then continued with his chess. Then, he got married and went to Japan to live happily ever after. Japan let him in only because of his new bride. Chivalry, as we all know, is dead everywhere else except in Japan.
Anyway, back to the book. When asked by reporters what she would do differently if she had a second chance at raising her son, Mama Bush said, rather quaintly, "well, I'd be more careful, you know. He's been dropped on his head more than a couple of times when he was little." Now, there's an honest confession that explains a LOT of things.
The other significant event of 2004 was the naming of the Madurai Meenakshi temple in India as one of the Wonders of the World. So, India's contribution to the Wonders of the World is now the Taj, the Temple, and Lalu Prasad Yadav. Let's drink to that! Cheers! And Happy New Year, Everyone.
Meanwhile, Mama Bush is planning a book release. The book was jointly co-authored by her husband, the real McCoy. Titled "Grow Up, Junior" the book has been signed by 131 heads of state excluding the Japanese Emperor who's still sulking over Junior's refusal to endorse the Kyoto Treaty. In what is fast heading to be a decade-long sulk, the Emperor bowed deeply and refused to sign. He hasn't forgotten Hiroshima either, and he wasn't exactly thrilled with the Bobby Fischer fiasco too (he has some serious problems, this Emperor), especially the insinuation that Fischer was hiding all these years in Japan. Japan is roughly as big as my office lunchroom. Where do you hide in Japan?!? Bobby Fischer (to jog your memory) defied mighty Uncle Sam to travel to Yugoslavia (now it's called something else, and it's somewhere else) in 1992 to play chess with Boris Spassky. When US authorities served notice on him for violating a ban, he did the sanest thing he could think of: He spat on the paper and tore it up and told them, very calmly, to take a hike. He then continued with his chess. Then, he got married and went to Japan to live happily ever after. Japan let him in only because of his new bride. Chivalry, as we all know, is dead everywhere else except in Japan.
Anyway, back to the book. When asked by reporters what she would do differently if she had a second chance at raising her son, Mama Bush said, rather quaintly, "well, I'd be more careful, you know. He's been dropped on his head more than a couple of times when he was little." Now, there's an honest confession that explains a LOT of things.
The other significant event of 2004 was the naming of the Madurai Meenakshi temple in India as one of the Wonders of the World. So, India's contribution to the Wonders of the World is now the Taj, the Temple, and Lalu Prasad Yadav. Let's drink to that! Cheers! And Happy New Year, Everyone.
THE HUMBLE MONKEY STANDS UP TO BE COUNTED
"O, hear me all ye mortals, I have something important to say,
(Ignore this precarious coconut tree perch)
I just met Darwin the other day.
I said to him, 'Sir, I believe in Adaptive Radiation..'
To which, he drew himself up and replied rather impressively, 'Sir...' (yes, he called me that)
'Your posishun in the scheme of evolushun is a rung below mine,'
(He scratched his beard, perhaps for a simian touch)
'Besmirch not my reputashun, Mankind likes me fine.'
(When his brow knitted, I had to wonder whether we were separated by a rung at all)
'Hear me, dear ancestor,' I said, 'I've been here longer than you,
I've spoken to the dinosaur, I've spoken to the dodo, and to the cockroach too.'
(When he gnashed his teeth, I had to wonder whether our rungs had been exchanged.)
'No debate shall ensue, Sir,' he thundered
'My theory has survived religion
Sparring with you will consign to oblivion
All previous records establushed by our class
For descent from the sublime to the ridiculass.'
(When he snorted, I had to wonder whether your class had descended from the bull)
'O, hear me all ye mortals, I have something important to say
I tried to tell Darwin I agreed with him but I happened to lose my way
And when I lost myself, I found the Truth
And the Truth has set me free:
I challenge his theory of Variashun
(Men are all alike, you see)
I refute his allegations of Overproducshun
(My class is a dwindling populashun)
With his "Struggle for Existence" theory, I totally agree
But I still have a problem with the "Survival of the Fittest"
(The extinct dinosaur has put that to the test)
O, hear me all ye mortals
No race has survived so well like your own
(But certainly, your class is not the fittest in town)
Prophets proclaim "the meek shall inherit the earth one day"
In Darwin's absence, please allow me my say:
(Darwin is busy, now Mars needs a theory of evolushun)
All things considered, man is as timid as a mouse
(Except, of course, maybe in his own house)
So, the meek have already inherited the earth
(In our Animal Kingdom, your class is the object of much mirth)
And, Eureka! Religion did win after all
Despite Darwin's claims so tall."
(Ignore this precarious coconut tree perch)
I just met Darwin the other day.
I said to him, 'Sir, I believe in Adaptive Radiation..'
To which, he drew himself up and replied rather impressively, 'Sir...' (yes, he called me that)
'Your posishun in the scheme of evolushun is a rung below mine,'
(He scratched his beard, perhaps for a simian touch)
'Besmirch not my reputashun, Mankind likes me fine.'
(When his brow knitted, I had to wonder whether we were separated by a rung at all)
'Hear me, dear ancestor,' I said, 'I've been here longer than you,
I've spoken to the dinosaur, I've spoken to the dodo, and to the cockroach too.'
(When he gnashed his teeth, I had to wonder whether our rungs had been exchanged.)
'No debate shall ensue, Sir,' he thundered
'My theory has survived religion
Sparring with you will consign to oblivion
All previous records establushed by our class
For descent from the sublime to the ridiculass.'
(When he snorted, I had to wonder whether your class had descended from the bull)
'O, hear me all ye mortals, I have something important to say
I tried to tell Darwin I agreed with him but I happened to lose my way
And when I lost myself, I found the Truth
And the Truth has set me free:
I challenge his theory of Variashun
(Men are all alike, you see)
I refute his allegations of Overproducshun
(My class is a dwindling populashun)
With his "Struggle for Existence" theory, I totally agree
But I still have a problem with the "Survival of the Fittest"
(The extinct dinosaur has put that to the test)
O, hear me all ye mortals
No race has survived so well like your own
(But certainly, your class is not the fittest in town)
Prophets proclaim "the meek shall inherit the earth one day"
In Darwin's absence, please allow me my say:
(Darwin is busy, now Mars needs a theory of evolushun)
All things considered, man is as timid as a mouse
(Except, of course, maybe in his own house)
So, the meek have already inherited the earth
(In our Animal Kingdom, your class is the object of much mirth)
And, Eureka! Religion did win after all
Despite Darwin's claims so tall."
FIVE MINUTES IN ETERNITY
Time is a palmed gurgle of water from the ocean
That slithers through your fingers back to eternity - its home
Time is a myth, an unfettered notion
That you measure in joys and sorrows your own
Faith is the sun that unhurriedly warms every shore
Faith is the lunar light that equals all
Our Faith brought us together long before
Our different Gods divided our religious call
To find that Faith-touched peace that we seek
With unspoken hope and undying dreams - in unity
Time indulges us a New Year - so to speak
A year that is, but five minutes in eternity
Five minutes for your summer, five minutes for your spring
Five minutes for your winter and for your fall
Into these five minutes, will you not bring
Your faith, your hope, your courage - your all?
That slithers through your fingers back to eternity - its home
Time is a myth, an unfettered notion
That you measure in joys and sorrows your own
Faith is the sun that unhurriedly warms every shore
Faith is the lunar light that equals all
Our Faith brought us together long before
Our different Gods divided our religious call
To find that Faith-touched peace that we seek
With unspoken hope and undying dreams - in unity
Time indulges us a New Year - so to speak
A year that is, but five minutes in eternity
Five minutes for your summer, five minutes for your spring
Five minutes for your winter and for your fall
Into these five minutes, will you not bring
Your faith, your hope, your courage - your all?
A Wedding and Other Hair-Raising Events in God's Own Country
I'm sure you've seen the Samsung ad with it's large-hearted tagline "Everyone's Invited". That, in a gist, is a Kerala wedding - everyone's invited - and unlike in the ad, they'll all show up. The last time I attended a wedding in Kerala was 16 years ago when, if nothing else, age was on my side. 16 years later, on the wrong side of 30, the lethal combination of rain, heat, noise, and crowds to rival the best attended soccer matches prove a little too much for my feeble heart. It puts me in a perpetual state of near syncope for the entire duration of my stay.
There is one thing, however, to be said for weddings in the temple town of Guruvayoor (where my cousin took the plunge). Even if you're permanently lost, like I was, you'll get to attend SOME wedding - like I did - because there are so many happening on the day one of your own decides to seal his fate. I lost the crowd I was with (my mother's family that is roughly the size of two cricket teams with extras) which is very easy to do and ended up gazing at the bridegroom wondering if my handsome cousin's face could be so rearranged within 24 hours.
"Baaaangloooor allllaaayy ??" someone screeched while grabbing my hand and I spun around to face an all-32 grin that belonged to the owner of the eardrum-shattering voice. I laughed inspite of myself. In Kerala, everyone (specially people you meet for the first time in your life) will squeeze your hand, pat your cheek, and stroke your hair and if you're the touch-me-not sort, the experience can be quite....well, touching. Her smile was infectious and I happily let her take my hand and lead me back to where, she thought, I belonged - the mob that I'd been trying to lose ever since landing. On the way, she reeled off everything she knew about me (which was no surprise because by now I knew that people you've never seen before and probably will never see again know more about you than yourself) - from my vital statistics down to what I had had for breakfast that morning. Some of her facts were naturally completely divorced from reality, but who cares - I was having a ball!
The one thing that you absolutely do not want to be in a Kerala wedding is a single over-the-hill woman. You're a sitting duck (or a moving target - take your pick) for every whacko jacko and his mom, especially his mom, who has come to take a peek at you because her daughter's brother-in-law's aunt's husband's second cousin told her to.......but she's very suspicious that you're not married at such a ripe old age. She also thinks all Bangalore girls are "fast." She wants to know if you're: A. Mentally challenged. B. Physically challenged. C. Cannot have children. D. Recently ditched. E. All of the above. F. If others, please specify. You want to tell her where she should go with a one-way ticket that you'd be happy to buy for her, but she can't understand your language and you can understand hers perfectly.
Temples or temple weddings, however, are not the most divine experiences in God's Own Country - being a passenger in any mode of transport is. It's divine because you'll pray to every God you know as you shut your eyes tightly and nearly kill yourself holding your breath. Every male driver on the road (this includes all the males in my family too) is a maniac. The morning of the wedding, I opened the paper and caught the news that 5 employees of the Indian Oil Refinery were smashed to smithereens in their car that collided head on with a bus. There was a photo of the car - it looked like a dismantled jigsaw puzzle that you could pack into your overnight bag and carry effortlessly. With this vivid picture and all the gory details of how the occupants were scraped free fresh in my head, I board Cinimol (isn't that cute !) In Kerala, buses have names, not numbers. Cinimol is a benign looking bus......till it starts moving. On the back of the bus is emblazoned "CONCORD" in a fiery red which the fiend behind the wheel seriously believes. As he hurtles down the road at breakneck speed, he defies every law, every rule, every force of nature and gravity known to man. I pray incessantly and I thank God I'm in the bus and not out of it .....on the road.....in his way; if that happens, I'll only have enough time to hope that God doesn't run buses in Paradise.
When I alight, my internal organs are dancing to their own tunes as they try to find their spot to settle down. Cinimol races with Ranjinee's (not my punctuation or spelling) who's in turn racing with Highness (as opposed to ?) and they're all trying to catch up with Sleeba (I swear I'm not making this up). I marvel that there are no bodies piled up on the streets. I promise myself never to ever again curse Bangalore drivers who're such lambs in comparison.
"Road Clossed" (not my spelling) the sign says. It's a challenge too inviting to pass up for my auto driver. At first I think he doesn't know English (or he knows better English), so I ask him "closed alllaayyy??" He looks at me and laughs and says it's been closed since 1947 and he's been using it for roughly the same period. I want to scream, "but where is the road?" but I underestimate this champion driver. He's already delivered me to my destination in one piece - as usual, I wasn't looking. I feel like falling on my knees and thanking him.
When it's time to leave, I don't want to go. This is a pace of life that is forgotten in my world (if you forget the traffic part). People have time for you here. They're interested in what you say. They're simple, they're great hosts, and there are some parts of their human spirit that are still unspoiled by my world - just like their beautiful land. Most of all, they're open - what you see is what you get. I want to stay, but I can't.....of course, I'll always go back.....to my second home.
There is one thing, however, to be said for weddings in the temple town of Guruvayoor (where my cousin took the plunge). Even if you're permanently lost, like I was, you'll get to attend SOME wedding - like I did - because there are so many happening on the day one of your own decides to seal his fate. I lost the crowd I was with (my mother's family that is roughly the size of two cricket teams with extras) which is very easy to do and ended up gazing at the bridegroom wondering if my handsome cousin's face could be so rearranged within 24 hours.
"Baaaangloooor allllaaayy ??" someone screeched while grabbing my hand and I spun around to face an all-32 grin that belonged to the owner of the eardrum-shattering voice. I laughed inspite of myself. In Kerala, everyone (specially people you meet for the first time in your life) will squeeze your hand, pat your cheek, and stroke your hair and if you're the touch-me-not sort, the experience can be quite....well, touching. Her smile was infectious and I happily let her take my hand and lead me back to where, she thought, I belonged - the mob that I'd been trying to lose ever since landing. On the way, she reeled off everything she knew about me (which was no surprise because by now I knew that people you've never seen before and probably will never see again know more about you than yourself) - from my vital statistics down to what I had had for breakfast that morning. Some of her facts were naturally completely divorced from reality, but who cares - I was having a ball!
The one thing that you absolutely do not want to be in a Kerala wedding is a single over-the-hill woman. You're a sitting duck (or a moving target - take your pick) for every whacko jacko and his mom, especially his mom, who has come to take a peek at you because her daughter's brother-in-law's aunt's husband's second cousin told her to.......but she's very suspicious that you're not married at such a ripe old age. She also thinks all Bangalore girls are "fast." She wants to know if you're: A. Mentally challenged. B. Physically challenged. C. Cannot have children. D. Recently ditched. E. All of the above. F. If others, please specify. You want to tell her where she should go with a one-way ticket that you'd be happy to buy for her, but she can't understand your language and you can understand hers perfectly.
Temples or temple weddings, however, are not the most divine experiences in God's Own Country - being a passenger in any mode of transport is. It's divine because you'll pray to every God you know as you shut your eyes tightly and nearly kill yourself holding your breath. Every male driver on the road (this includes all the males in my family too) is a maniac. The morning of the wedding, I opened the paper and caught the news that 5 employees of the Indian Oil Refinery were smashed to smithereens in their car that collided head on with a bus. There was a photo of the car - it looked like a dismantled jigsaw puzzle that you could pack into your overnight bag and carry effortlessly. With this vivid picture and all the gory details of how the occupants were scraped free fresh in my head, I board Cinimol (isn't that cute !) In Kerala, buses have names, not numbers. Cinimol is a benign looking bus......till it starts moving. On the back of the bus is emblazoned "CONCORD" in a fiery red which the fiend behind the wheel seriously believes. As he hurtles down the road at breakneck speed, he defies every law, every rule, every force of nature and gravity known to man. I pray incessantly and I thank God I'm in the bus and not out of it .....on the road.....in his way; if that happens, I'll only have enough time to hope that God doesn't run buses in Paradise.
When I alight, my internal organs are dancing to their own tunes as they try to find their spot to settle down. Cinimol races with Ranjinee's (not my punctuation or spelling) who's in turn racing with Highness (as opposed to ?) and they're all trying to catch up with Sleeba (I swear I'm not making this up). I marvel that there are no bodies piled up on the streets. I promise myself never to ever again curse Bangalore drivers who're such lambs in comparison.
"Road Clossed" (not my spelling) the sign says. It's a challenge too inviting to pass up for my auto driver. At first I think he doesn't know English (or he knows better English), so I ask him "closed alllaayyy??" He looks at me and laughs and says it's been closed since 1947 and he's been using it for roughly the same period. I want to scream, "but where is the road?" but I underestimate this champion driver. He's already delivered me to my destination in one piece - as usual, I wasn't looking. I feel like falling on my knees and thanking him.
When it's time to leave, I don't want to go. This is a pace of life that is forgotten in my world (if you forget the traffic part). People have time for you here. They're interested in what you say. They're simple, they're great hosts, and there are some parts of their human spirit that are still unspoiled by my world - just like their beautiful land. Most of all, they're open - what you see is what you get. I want to stay, but I can't.....of course, I'll always go back.....to my second home.
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