Thursday, April 25, 2024
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Bob’s Banter A Bride for Rahul

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By Robert Clements

With attacks on poor Rahul worsening by the day, in my very vivid imagination I see the Congress think tank putting on their thinking caps and pondering the best solution to the nightmare brought about by their leader opening his mouth at Cambridge. “An important issue like Adani is being sidelined because the treasury benches are attacking Rahul,” said a worried leader of the opposition party to me.
“And now the Delhi police have also got an arrest warrant for him!” said another leader, “Looks like our dear Rahul is destined for Tihar!”
“We told him last week not to trim his hair or beard,” said the spokesman of the party angrily.
“Looks like he did not listen to you,” I said.
“He listened to the barber,” said the same spokesman shaking his head in frustration, “we knew for sure that the ruling party was hell bent on seeing he shaved his hair and beard. They knew a lot of his strength and wisdom came out of those long locks! India loved him with those looks!”
“So, did they send a Delilah after him?” I smiled and asked.
“In a way yes, but a Delilah in the form of a lady barber, who told him, his sweet dimple couldn’t be seen and off came his hair!”
“You have any strategy to save him?” I asked, “You guys are supposed to be the think-tank of the party! Earn your living!”
“Easier said than done,” said the first think tanker, “We have always relied on the High Command to make all decisions and now that very high command is powerless! We have never practiced decision making!”
I left the worried congressmen for awhile and went out for some fresh air, till I found one of the think tankers standing next to me, “We are stuck,” he said as he looked at me beseechingly.
“I can see that!” I said sharply.
“Can you help us?”
“Whoa! Whoa!” I said, “I have no experience in such matters. I am no politician!”
“We know that,” said the think tanker curtly, “We don’t need any political decisions to be made, for that we have the High Command.” I rolled my eyes upward then hastily rolled them back in place as he continued, “What we need is a management guru who will teach us ‘the art of thinking and decision making!”
“Sure,” I said, “I know an excellent man, “Let me call him and see if he’s free to give you people a crash course today!”
It was two hours after the crash course that in my very vivid imagination, I returned to the party headquarters and found the whole camp in jubilation. They were garlanding the ‘thinking guru’ and seeing me, they threw some flowers my way. “He is excellent!” said the spokesman who had first spoken to me, “We can now think freely, without help from the high command, and have decided to tackle this problem head on.”
“Amazing!” I said, “and how do you intend helping your young dimpled leader?”
“We have decided to get Rahul married!”
“Married?” I whispered, “and how on earth will a bride make Rahul’s problems disappear?”
“A married man talks to his wife!” said the spokesman eagerly, “With a wife in tow, he will not need to talk to Oxford or Cambridge or make controversial statements to the press!”
“Not a bad idea!” I said slowly.
“We have assigned a young team of workers to work on a suitable ad to be placed in matrimonial websites, newspapers and even on posters asking for a marriage partner,” continued the spokesman, “You may meet the team now if you wish.”
‘Wanted Italian Bride’ read the assigned party worker, from his pad.
“Italian?” I asked, “what’s wrong with a desi bride?”
“Statistics show an Indian marrying foreigner has a greater chance of winning elections,” said the worker, “see the case of Rajeev and Sanjay, Maneka is still a nobody!”
“I think we’ve had enough of Italians,” I suggested helpfully.
“Okay make it British!” said another party worker placing a Congress cap on my head.
“Wanted British bride,” read the worker, “possessing steady shoulders, hardy hands, arty arms, fabulous fingers!”
“Hey!” I shouted, “What’s all this about? You want a bride or a choir conductor? Why such emphasis on her hands?”
“The effectiveness of a good political wife is a good ‘hand wave’.” explained a party worker to me loftily, “Remember the Sonia wave, the Priyanka wave? Why, even the Indira wave! If a wife waves well, we get votes! Also, strong arm makes a good hugger. Today hugging is our national activity!”
“What else?” I asked wearily.
“Someone who has watched all Ekta Kapoor serials!”
“You want a bride who watches Ekta serials?” I asked incredulously.
“That is a must,” said the party worker stubbornly. “All of us agree.”
“Why?” I whispered.
“How else she will know about saas- bahu relationship? How else she will adjust to her future mother in law? Adjusting to Madamji is of paramount importance! Remember she will have competition from seasoned son-in-law!”
“Why don’t you read out what you have written till now,” I said quickly.
“Wanted English bride, with steady shoulder, hardy hand, strong arm and fabulous finger, who spends whole day watching Ekta Kapoor serial. Please contact….
“Rahul!” I completed.
“No, no!”
“Then whose name?”
“Madamji of course. Just like she chose Manmohanji for PM, Madam will choose her daughter- in- law for herself!”
“I don’t know if this marriage will work for him!” I said worriedly.
“But it will work for us!” said a Congress worker gleefully, “Like they are using surgical-strikes to win elections, we will use Rahulji’s wedding! Everybody likes a Grand Indian Wedding! It will be a landslide victory after that!”
I decided I needed another breath of fresh air, and went out. From the noise coming from the inside, I knew they had already placed their advertisement on social media and wondered how many thousands of hopefuls, must have already sent their willingness to wed the dimpled national leader. I decided after a while to go in, only to be greeted by a deafening silence, “What?” I asked puzzled.
“Nobody is interested!” said the spokesman.
“Why?” I asked
“The women feel he will do what his competition did: Get married, then desert her, leaving her forever!”
I joined them in staring mournfully at a dismal future for the party. Luckily it was just my imagination..!
(The Author conducts an Online Writers Course. For more details contact him on WhatsApp 9892572883. [email protected])

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