Reality Bites: Hay fever & death by diabetes
Don’t buy flowers or chocolates for boyfriends and certainly not with credit cards
If you’re the sort who is not easily distracted, you must be aware that China is not just at our borders but inside our borders. I now live in fear that the Supreme Leader will pop up unannounced on TV one of these days wearing a red and gold silk kurta with a Mandarin collar singing the “March of the Volunteers” (China’s national anthem).
Till then, his hired help in mainstream and social media have been ordered to wave little decoys to stop us from thinking about seriously important things like territorial integrity. To kick off this distraction fest, the BJP government enthusiastically ordered major Central government agencies to conduct investigations into the alleged suicide of a young Bollywood star with mental health issues (according to the last two psychiatrists who had treated him) and a fondness for recreational drugs. His girlfriend was accused of murdering him and leading him astray at the very outset because every Indian knows that the Indian male is a meek little saint with a backbone made of cheap rubber.
The full horror of this distraction exercise was finally revealed when the girlfriend was arrested (not for murdering her boyfriend, but for occasionally buying his weed when he asked nicely). BJP supporters cheered madly and called this justice, because, well because they’re not very bright. The little clowns are blissfully unaware that this strange investigation has actually revealed that their favourite star was a pothead, and not exactly role model material. The moral of the story is: do not buy anything at all for your boyfriend/girlfriend, not even chocolates, because the BJP can arrest you for trying to deliver death by diabetes, if there’s an election around the corner. And no, not flowers either because they could spark off hay fever.
Apart from the BJP government hijacking this investigation, there’s a Bollywood actress who jumped in as well. A very scary woman indeed, and fear prevents me from naming her. Let me do a stuttering Shahrukh Khan from the movie ‘Darr’, and call her K...K... instead.
Something dreadful has happened to K...K...— I feel it in my bones. It’s quite possible that while she was walking under trees at dusk with her hair loose, the spirit of a dead Sanghi entered her soul. My conspiracy theory is supported by facts: she’s suddenly started talking non-stop gibberish just like Sanghis—Ram Mandir, Ayodhya, Babur, Kashmiri Pandits, PoK, etc. Don’t be surprised if she starts throwing gau mutra parties on her balcony soon, with Bhabhiji papad served on thaalis which will later be clanged and banged to shouts of “Go Corona, go!”
Anyway, the spirit of the dead Sanghi has evidently whispered urgently into the ears of the Union Home Minister too, because K...K... has been given Y security. The spirit wants to make sure that no exorcist gets close to her, I gather. Now no one can save her, no one! Tut. I truly feel bad for her.
Sneer at my conspiracy theory if you will, but hey, people who bought all that rubbish the BJP’s pet media-wallahs spewed about the girlfriend being a witch can just as easily swallow this! Okay, that bit about K...K... walking under trees with her hair loose was inspired by Indian superstitions and horror stories, but then, anything can happen.If I behave like those insane journalists on BJP-friendly news channels, I can take this batty conspiracy theory even further and link it to a former chief minister of Maharashtra.
In his book ‘Checkmate: How the BJP Won and Lost Maharashtra’, journalist Sudhir Suryawanshi has mentioned former Maharashtra chief minister Devender Fadnavis’s fascination with tantrics and mirchi hawans. Apparently, he flies tantrics in from Baglamukhi temple in Madhya Pradesh whenever he feels threatened, desperate, or wakes up on the wrong side of the bed. Now remember that Fadnavis has zillions of fancy chief ministerial bandhgalas in his closet that are currently attracting hungry moths. It’s no secret that he’s yearning to wear them again. Suppose, just suppose, an evil spirit escaped during one of his creepy tantric rituals and found its way to K...K...?
As Shakespeare’s Hamlet tells rational Horatio after encountering his father’s ghost, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
(Any resemblance to reality is a coincidence)