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Humor /Satire Chapter 12 There was a knock on the door and Dude entered. Clad in a tight fitting T-shirt and jeans he looked very smart. “Hi Makhmal! How are you?” Makhamal
turned around and her look of surprise turned to one of mild irritation. “You have always been in my thoughts, sweetheart.” “Cut your corny dialogues and tell me why you have come here. There must be something that you want from me otherwise you are not sort to waste time on old flames.” “I think you are still angry with me.” “Angry is an understatement. After making all those tall promises you vanished like the clothes on Rakhee Saawan’s body. You had promised that after reaching USA you would organise a series of concerts - ‘Makhamal Malini Night’s in Washington, New York and Hollywood. What happened to all that?” “Listen, sweetheart. Garam Singh had organized a scholarship and sent me to US of A. You know how shrewd he is. After taking a commitment from me that I would marry his obese daughter on my return he financed me. If he had the slightest hint that there was something between us he would have finished me. My Doctorate would have gone up in smoke. And you know the film press, how bloody nosey it is. Remembers the last time we had gone to the disco. Some bloody voyeur had managed to catch us locking lips on his mobile camera and sent the clip to ‘Kab Tak’ news channel. I had a couple of friends in the channel and I managed to get the clip dropped or else I would have been badly cornered.” “I doesn’t sound very convincing but I’ll give you the benefit of doubt. But, tell l me one thing, Yuppy. I have heard that Garam Singh has been completely sidelined. Then how come a smart cookie like you is still tagging along with him?” “He was facing oblivion a few days ago. He has now bounced back into the limelight by launching a new party- Congress Alpha. He has very good chances of becoming the CM of UP. To convert these chances to reality we need your help.” “My help? What do you want me to do? Canvas for Garam Singh?” “No, nothing of that sort. According to my plan, if you agree, we will spread rumours linking your name with Samaj Sewak’s. Using our links in the media we will establish that SS has feasted on you innocent charms and then betrayed you. He is a cad, a pervert and a psychopath whose greatest weakness is women. We’ll organise your interviews in ‘Harvard Business Review’, ‘Starbust’. ‘Hindustan Express, ‘The Stateswoman, ‘The Slimes of India’ and over ‘Kab Tak’, ‘Pee-TV’ and ‘Animal Planet’.” “Just a minute, you are going too fast. In case I agree to your harebrained scheme and take his name before the elections, he will smash me to pieces using his powerful machinery.” “Yes, you are right,” Dude said and getting up started pacing the floor. After a few minutes he snapped his fingers. “I go it. We will allow the rumours to build up without mentioning any names. In your interviews you will hint at a mysterious lover who is in a very powerful position. You will describe how that scoundrel has exploited your vulnerability and after savouring your charms ditched you. Nowhere will the name of your lover be mentioned. Everyone will talk of his power, his greed, his lust and his total ruthlessness. We will allow the suspense to reach a crescendo. And finally, one day before the elections we will hold a press conference in which both the national and international media persons will be invited. And in the press conference you will declare,” Dude threw his hands in the air and announced dramatically: “’The wretch, the scoundrel who has used and destroyed me is none other than Samaj Sewak the Chief Minister of Ulta Pradesh.”’ In a very elaborate gesture he removed a white handkerchief from his pocket and sobbed into it. “Wonderful, wonderful, Dude. I must admit you are quite an accomplished actor,” Makhmal said clapping her hands. “Thank you, thank you,” Yuppy bowed mockingly. “Now, Dude, tell me, if I agree to indulge in this farce what do I get? What is my gain in taking such a great risk?” “Tell me – what do you want? I am here to discuss and finalize the terms.” “You are the director of this farce. You are getting the villain-cum-hero free of cost. Tell me – what will you give the heroine?” “I had read in ‘Starbust’ that recently you have signed three films: Garmagarm Raatein, Nashila Yauvan, and Mahakta Badan. And I am told that you are the producer of these films.” “Yes, but why are you interested? Are you planning to write my biography?” “Don’t be silly. If you accept my proposal, then as soon as we come to power we will get these films exempted from income tax.” “How will you do that? There must be some rules for these things.” “No problem. You will have to make sure that in the first film the heroine is a Muslim and hero is a Hindu, in the second film the hero is a Christian and the heroine is a Hindu, and in the third film the heroine is a Muslim and the hero is a Sardar. We will then declare that the three films promote national integration and get them exempted from income tax.” “But what will I gain? I’ll probably make a profit of one crore. That’s all. Listen, Dude, I am now thirty five, though in the film magazines for the last ten years I have been going steady at twenty two. Just yesterday a producer came and offered me a role in which I had to play the heroine’s mother. I threw the signing amount on his face, asked my pet Labrador to bite him and the Gurkha to throw him out. But Dude, sooner or later this is bound to happen. New heroines will come and I will have to make way for them. And I would rather die than play the role of a mother. That means I have a maximum of two or three years to go. After that, what? Marry a fat Sindhi businessman and live the life of an obese, rich concubine. I am much more ambitious than that. After being in the limelight for most of my life I don’t want to slip into oblivion. It’s either center stage or curtains for me.” “So what do you want to become? The Chairperson of Infosys?” “Don’t be ridiculous. I want a place in the old man’s cabinet.” “That will be damn difficult,” said Dude taken aback. “Give it a thought, dahling, No pain, no gain. And remember, dearie, your need is greater than mine.” Dude thought for sometime as Makhmal calmly selected a lipstick and started touching up her lips. “You call me smart and shrewd. You are miles ahead of me,” Dude snapped after some intense pondering. “It’s all your guidance and inspiration, sweetheart.” “Okay, I accept. We will make you the Minister of State for the Preservation of Moral Values and Cultural Heritage.” “But is there actually a post like that or like last time you are trying to pull a fast one?” “No, there is no post. But who can stop us from creating it?” “Okay, then I am ready.” “It is a deal then,” Ddue said extending his hand. Makhmal shook his hand saying, “Why don’t you stay back? For old time’s sake. We can have dinner together and…….” “Sory, sweetheart, I have to rush back and report to the old man. He will be waiting. I’ll come tomorrow. We can discuss the modus operandi and have the evening to ourselves.” “Only the evening or even the night?” Makhmal simpered coyly. “As you wish, darling, I am all yours,” Dude said kissing Makhmal on her cheek. Page 1 |
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