All the people who think that politicians are inkblots on the copybook of humanity have once again been proved wrong. And we have before us another shining example of the fact that politicians are not just the salt of the earth but the chow in the chowmein and the idli in the sambar.
I speak of course of recent events involving the till-recently Governor of Andhra Pradesh, our dearly beloved Mr. N. D. Tiwari.
Now let me explain why.
First of all, politicians like Tiwarji are heaven-sent boons for writers like me who spend most of the time desperately scavenging for thought-provoking subjects to write about. Subjects that will incite, inspire, arouse (not what you’re thinking) and generally set in motion if not the wheels of change, then at least activate all the flush toilets in Kurumpasiddy.
So, just as I was thinking about writing about the impact of Jairam Ramesh’s blow-dried tresses on the climate change negotiations in Copenhagen, the Curious Case of the Raunchy Governor fell plop into my lap.
So, thank you Tiwariji.
Second of all, for the millions of us who have begun to hear the terrifying stomp of the March of Time and live in constant fear of things withering, drooping, sagging and generally letting us down in our Hour of Need, Tiwariji has become a shining beacon of hope. Because we now have irrefutable proof not only is there life after 85, but that it begins at 86. (Of course, what kind of a life it will be may depend on your ability to ensure that a steady stream of naked, teenage girls is delivered to your doorstep every day with morning milk.)
So, thank you, Tiwariji.
Third of all - move over, Tiger Woods. Actually, to tell you the truth, the Woods business had me real worried. Think about it. Porn queens, lingerie models and sex in the church car park -where could we go after that? What was there left to make us gasp and giggle and rapturously whoop, “How disgusting!” Was this the end of the road, the death knell for sex scandals as we knew it? Would we now be reduced to watching bisexual seahorses on the Discovery Channel for our daily dose of dirty shockers?
I am happy to report that the answer is a resounding “No!”. “N D Tiwari” now has more hits on Google than “Tiger Woods”.
And naturally so.
I mean 11 mistresses is all very well but all that Tiger had to show for it were some silly text messages and one mangy voice mail. And that too in this day and age of multimedia.
I mean, yawn, really.
So, once again, thank you Tiwariji.
Of course, this is all based on the assumption that the gent in that video is indeed the erstwhile Governor. Two days after he resigned, Tiwariji told a TV news channel that he had been framed. No, not by the Abominable Snowman but a few supporters of the Telengana movement who were angry with him because he couldn’t grant them an audience with the President of India.
Tiwariji, we’re not sure what exactly you mean by “framed”. Does it mean that it wasn’t you in that video, but that someone (your OSD, Arvind Sharma, perhaps?) had managed to arrange a very clever double?
If so, Hollywood, Bollywood and Kim Jong II would like to thank you (Saddam Hussein would have thanked you too, if he were alive) and could we have his contact numbers please?
Or do you mean that you were so swamped by the Telengana supporters that it somehow escaped your attention that three naked young women had taken your trousers off, thrown you down on your bed and were doing things to your honourable person that made Bill Clinton, Tiger Woods and the rest of that bunch look like they were friends of Winnie the Pooh?
If so, we’d still like to thank you because you have just given us the modern day version of the Trojan Horse. And it works something like this.
Identity target. Swamp the place with commandos who are in disguise – i.e., they are naked. In the ensuing melee, while everyone is gawking at aforementioned naked commandos, send in clumps of nubile, naked girls armed with state-of-the-art spycams. (They’d have to be state-of-art – how else do you conceal a spycam on a naked woman?)
Divest of clothing.
Kiss, fondle, nuzzle. Et al.
Then sit back and watch things topple.
In other words, thank you Tiwarji.
Monday, January 04, 2010