New Delhi, 16 July-2014, Nachiketa Desai: Mad Pratap Manic was in deep sleep enconsed in a bed next to Baba Kamdev. He was dead tired after a two-hour Bhoga Aasan the salwar-clad Yoga Guru had forced him to practice at Godhuli Bela, the auspicious time when herds of cows hoofed up dust while crossing into Bangladesh to rest in peace in the comforts of the five-star abattoir on the outskirts of Dhaka.
At the stroke of midnight, Maddie’s (all PMs and PMs in waiting called Mad Pratap endearingly as Maddie) unlisted satellite phone beeped two and a half times. “Oh, this must be from the HQ. This is generally the time when the chief calls after concluding Pentagon’s emergency meetings,” Maddie whispered into Kamdev’s right ear.
Kamdev gave a wicked smile, winked his normal eye and whispered back, “The chief’s omnipresent spy camera must have already captured us practising Bhoga Aasan. Feel free to use the cellar to take the call.”
Maddie scampered to the cellar. “Yes chief ! Shoot,” he spoke into the mouthpiece while standing in attention, the right hand half raised in salute in the exact manner that all Sangh’s rank and file were taught in the shakha.
“Wake up you ass, whole civilized world is screaming at us over the mess we have created in Palestine and Iraq. Having slaughtered hundreds of women and children, the Zionists now want to push for the ‘Final Solution’. We will handle the Israelis, don’t you worry. You rush to Lahore where we have setup your rendezvous with Half Ease, our man there. We have promoted him to your rank so that you don’t have to feel belittled in breaking bread with him,” the chief told Maddie in an ominous, menacing tone.
“But, Sir, what about the Fuhrer and his gang of Himmlers, Goebels and Goerings? Would they approve of the glamorous assigment you are giving me? As it is I can sense a tinge of jealously towards me in their eyes,” Maddie mumbled.
“Fuhrer is offshore playing Bric-Brac. The others have no say in the matter. Moreover, Motabhai can be relied upon to manage the Himmlers, Goebels and Goerings, all together and at one go. It has been long since he organized a rave party on the top-floor of his 75-storey, 400,000-square-foot skyscraper home in Mohamaya nagari, ” the chief assured Maddie.
Molly cuddled thus by the chief, Maddie returned to the master bedroom where, to his surprise, Baba Kamdev was alrady practicing Bhoga Aasana in changed pair of Salwars.
Maddie put on his favourite journalistic jacket, discarding the academic one, and set off for his rendezvous with Half Ease.
The rest is all ‘His’ story.
Editor’s Note: Author Nachiketa Desai has passed a quarter-century of witnessing and practising journalism. From national and international news agencies to English and Hindi newspapers.