Ever since I have come to know that some ‘libtard’, ‘sickular’ Bengali Indian-American -- who crawled out of those anti-national terror enclaves of Presidency College and Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) -- has won the Nobel Prize in economics, I am not simply angry. I am hopping mad, my body is literally burning with rage.
And coz that crocodile-faced bank manager will not let me take out any more than Rs 25,000 over next six months, I can’t even walk over to the neighbourhood chemist store and buy me a tube of Burnol. But I simply refuse to sit down and burn.
This bank manager is also my Shaakha Pramukh. But still he won’t budge. I have to save the money to pay my son’s school fees, you see. I have thought about sending him to the local Shishu Kalyan Mandir. It’s free and imparts only ‘sanskari’ education.
But my devil of a wife won’t relent. You already know what I have to endure at home from my last piece. In case you have not read it, here it is: (https://www.nationalheraldindia.com/satire/what-was-our-great-leader-doing-with-acupressure-roller-in-his-hand). If I had money to recharge my DTH connection, I could have watched The Great Doorknob tear him apart on the former’s talk show. But alas, that is not to be.
Can you imagine the Nobel Prize jury actually chose this creature who actually dared criticise Our Great Leader’s (OGL’s) decision to withdraw 86 per cent of our currency notes in circulation? I still remember that moment of 2016. I was jumping in joy. It was a war on black money and the 70 years of loot we have been subjected too.
It’s another matter that I spent so much time in bank queues that the small firm, where I worked then, docked half a month’s salary. We can’t afford not to face any hardship and expect our country to get back to the glory days of the ancient times when our Rama Empire spaceships used to engage Atlantis spaceships on the surface of the moon. It’s not that collateral damage won’t happen.
Tell me in which war of the world there has never been any? So, when the small firm which paid my bills shut down four months after demonetisation, I took it as one. I was glad that I was doing my bit for the realisation of OGL’s dream of New India.
My wife was livid. And she flashed the huge fish blade quite menacingly at me and called OGL the blood brother of OBL. Tauba tauba! You know OBL, right? Yes, it’s that tall guy who was hiding in a secure compound in the Pakistani town of Abbottabad till the US Navy Seals decided to pay him a visit one night. Can you imagine that? How could my parents do this to me?
Anyway, we need to get back at the Nobel Prize, at the Vatican-Mecca conspiracy against our country and its culture. We should completely reject it. And we must have a dedicated prize that will be awarded exclusively to inhabitants of our own ecosystem. OGL has already lapped up Gates, Seoul, Philip Kotler and so many more. So let’s leave him out of this.
You see, the problem is that if OGL has to be given one, he needs to be given them all. He has to be given the peace prize for locking up 8 million people for more than 70 days. You, obviously, can’t deny him one in chemistry for unlocking the potential of the gutter gas.
His pioneering discovery on cloud cover disrupting radar waves should be good enough for physics. Now that he has penned a poem on the conversations between himself and the sea, literature is also pretty much in the bag. OGL is in a different league. If he decided to wield the willow on a cricket field, Team India would not actually need ten other batsmen. Okay, one may be, for the non-striker role.
We need a prize in economics that can be given out each year. We have so many deserving candidates as of now: Nimmy, Mohan, Ravi, Guru, Anant…Enough for the next five years. And many more gems will take centre stage in the years to come.
Now, what do we call it? To diss the Nobel, we need to find something that sounds similar, something that trends on Twitter that our IT Army will automatically ensure. It was then ‘Gaubells’ occurred to me. That way, we will also be showing respect to our Gau Mata. It also nicely rhymes with Goebbels who is an inspiration not just to me but all of us who attend the shakha in the morning.
The prize will be a cow with multiple bells around her neck. And of course, we will keep a watch on the awardees. If they think they will sell them off for a quick buck, we will make sure that the vultures and crows only get to feed on these people's corpses. And then, we will wait to be garlanded by our Union ministers. I am told they serve excellent dhoklas in those programmes.