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Humor /Satire Chapter 20 The News Channels were telecasting glimpses of the Press Conference – especially the denoument, 24 X 7. Viewers’ polls, spot interviews and random surveys with Makhma’ sob saga as the theme had become the staple diet of almost every channel. The CDs of the Press Conference were selling like hot cakes. Makhmal had become an international celebrity overnight. She had already been sent feelers by BBC’s Channel Four. They had offered to make a documentary on her life. The film was to be scripted by Shobha Day. Penguin Bharat had also approached her for the publishing rights of her autobiography to be ghost written by none other than the Goddess of big things : Aroon Dhat teri ki Roy!! At around
eight p.m. Unthonee Muni switched on his Plasma TV. A sexy looking thing
in an itsy bitsy two piece came on the screen and announced, “Welcome,
viewers to the ‘Yucks Kya Election Hai’-the election special brought to
you by Yucks Soap. Prannoy Coy is sponsored by Sexy Udad Dal, marketed
by Totaram Marwari and Cousin Brothers, Mud Island, Bombay.” She
disappeared and the screen was filled with a voluptuous lady bursting
out of a T-shirt and jeans. “The trends indicate that there is a swing of 72.0909 percent in favour of Janata Khichidi and a swing of 68.7670 away from Congress Alpha. I have managed to get hold of Shri Garam Singh’s private number. The phone is ringing and in a few moments we’ll be able to hear the baritone of Graram Singh.” “Hello,” Coy said. “Mr. Garam Singh, this is Prannoy Coy from Ending TV. All the viewers are dying to hear your response. I want to ask you a couple of questions. . .” there was a funny sound at the other end of the line. It sounded uncannily like a pig with Jiggs Cholera’s batata wada stuck in its throat. Suddenly all that the viewers could hear was a beep beep. Prannoy Coy’s face had turned purple and then gradually became crimson red. After around two minutes he replaced the receiver and said, “Viewers, unfortunately we cannot give you the rather interesting and bold view of Mr. Garam Singh since we are not permitted to use four-letter words of any language. I can only tell you that Mr. Garam Singh was questioning the legitimacy of his Pyari Beti Makhmal’s birth in great detail.” Copy paused, drank some cold water, wiped his face with tissue paper and continued, “We now bring you the trends in the various constituencies and polling booths.” For the next one hour the viewer was subjected to an onslaught of numerical, pictorial and verbal verbiage. Finally Coy appeared. “Friends, I am happy to announce that we have managed to get some very important people here. To the extreme left is Fakir Chand of Congress Alpha available for comment. Dude is not to be traced, Garib Das is suffering from diarrhoea, Moong Dal from epilepsy while Lala Dharam Seth has suddenly lost his voice. Welcome, Mr. Fakir Chand, we are glad to have you with us.” “Thank you, Mr. Coy,” Fakir Chand said. He was bleary eyed and looked utterly exhausted. “To the right of Mr. Fakir Chand we have Mr. Doubting Thomas. He was till yesterday in Congress Alpha. This morning he joined Janata Khichidi. To his right is Mr. Ladoo Chamaar, the confidant of Mr. Samaj Sewak. “The first question to all you gentlemena is that now that the trends reveal a thumping victory for Janata Khichdi, are you surprised? First I request Mr. Thomas to answer. “No, no, I am not at all surprised. Congress Alpha is a bankrupt party. It has no ideology, no morals, no values. Garam Singh, its leader, is a scoundrel who deserves to be hanged . . .” “Wait a minute,” screamed Fakir Chand jumping up. “Don’t forget, you turncoat, that till yesterday you were swearing allegiance to Congress Alpha and loyalty to Garam Singh.” “Who are you calling a turncoat, you pimp! I know that you used to pimp for Garam Singh.” “You rascal,
you are calling me a pimp? Wait till I get my hands on you!” “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Prannoy Coy screamed, looking helplessly around for support. He found Laddoo hiding under the table, cowering away to glory. Suddenly there was a sudden crash and the screen went blank. As Unthonee stared wide-eyed a legend appeared on the screen, “Sorry for the interruption”. And just below the legend were the following immortal words: “This part of the programme was sponsored by Joansons’ Bandaid and Red Alert Ambulance, Kabaristan Road, Jahannumpur.” Page 1 |
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| 19 | 20 July 8, 2007 |
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