For some reason the mind had become apathetic and my reflexes took over giving me this brilliant idea, writes Minoo Shah, as she captures a ‘conversation’. With? Well, read on..
An apparition in a cowboy hat dark as a stormy cloud a trishul in hand was leaning by my bedroom wall in a nonchalant stance. Inquisitive journalist that I am, my mind immediately started scrutinising the intrusion. For some reason the mind had become apathetic and my reflexes took over giving me this brilliant idea – Why not politely ask the cowboy: ‘What brings you here?’, which I proceeded to do so as coyly as one can with their hair in a disarray and donned in a much-used kaftan not known for its sexy attributes. Heretofore, the conversation must be conveyed as a narrative:
Yuma (beedi at the corner of his mouth): Global Affairs!
Me: I would not know anything about Deepika’s extra-maritals or Erdogan’s closet secrets
Yuma: Silly, naïve senior person! I am referring to the state of the world in general
Me:Aha – the Divided States of America or…?
Yuma (frowning): I have come to lay claims on Democracy.It is dead
Me: How so?
Yuma: Well, I did not expect much from the bobbly you laughingly refer to as a brain, but yours was the most convenient spot to land
Yuma: Precisely!Republicans are Red, Democrats are Blue,let’s smash all khuskets, me and you! (snickering: ‘could not resist the patriarchy BS’).
Me: but, but but….
Yuma:Save your buts! and listen (he then proceeded to make himself comfortable on the chaise with total disregard to the no smoking policy, and I refrained from inciting his wrath for here was a man with ‘maal’ and an agenda and I was to be the ‘kolu ka bel’ – lucky me!).
Thus, the soliloquy began.
Yuma: 2020 is to go down in infamy.Two things died – Democracy and the Fourth Estate.Some people were hurt or killed because they thought cartoons were funny.Less known fact – both Brahma and I are avid fans of the Sunday Comics – united in scathing anger, if the Sunday paper comes without the cartoon pages. (By the way Hebdo and his staff are doing well up there).To add to the list, of late, humor has died too.Entertainment died the day they released ‘Bank Chor! And ‘Holidate’. Politics became the last venue of scoundrels who change parties depending on whose nepotic vibes sear the mainstream.The junta’s screams go unheard as rhetoric becomes the empty voice of leaders committed to scavenging off you poor slobs. While you blame sun fluctuations and ocean currents for the man-made deforestation and continuously frack mother earth – what do you expect – perfect seventy-degree Los Angeles weather?Oh, wait –that has gone too -ravaged by scurrilous pigs bent on greed and debauchery. What is left?A Trumpet, a Joey, a Kamel, a forged Pence, some Gundas and Pakistan. Embattled and weary warriors that reach up above wonder – Why, oh why?What price Freedom?
Me (deer in the headlight look): And….
Yuma:So, here’s the deal, come with me from this burning hell.The climate change has turned my abode intoShangri-La.All the Gods, yes, including me, seeing the chaos down here have voted in a unified government spearheaded by Democracy and Freedom of Speech that recently joined us.Sir James is keeping us informed via Q’s gadgets on the situation down below and will periodically come to thrash the Aditiots, Papuas, Rots, Powers, and more.
Me (I interjected – tempted with the dreams of lotus eating): Why me?
Yuma:Because you are a stubborn journalist whose time is soon to come – given that you don’t give a rodent’s derriere about who or what you write about, refusing to accept that the pen is no longer mightier than the sword!
Me:But the fat lady has not sung yet….