“Hilarious BJP strategy of fake accounts unmasked as multiple blondes express identical concern re attack on BJP offices in Thiruvananthapuram!”
This is what Shashi Tharoor tweeted a few days ago.
I think it’s unfair of Tharoor to put a wicked spin, as is his wont, on anything concerning the party.
Ha! Ha! So scared is Shashi Sir of its ever-growing popularity that he even forgot to use big words like Wells Fargo.
Why, Tharoor- ji , if I may ask, shouldn’t blondes, or for that matter, brunettes, or deliciously Titian-haired nymphs, express their concern over horrific happenings in this otherwise delightful, ancient land of ours? You mean, just because these girls are so fetching and so white, they can’t have hearts under their skin-tight T-shirts that beat for India?
How facile, sir.
I, for a fact, know that the nubile (it’s not her fault, is it?) Ms Emma Rosa has a PhD in Sanskrit from Benares University. Yes, she was a go-go dancer in Vegas operating under the name of Sizzles De La Bouche a few years ago, but you can’t judge her just by that. The young, lissome (she is, so what?) woman, on hearing inspirational speeches by our beloved leader while he toured the US, moved to India (or ‘my motherland’ as she calls it now), and has since dedicated herself to a way of life that has got her an A+++ rating from Pahlaj Nihalani’s Institute of Moral Matters.
That’s not all. I’ll have you know that, currently, the completely Bharatiya-Narified Ms Rosa runs a Patanjali outlet that does ₹40,000 turnover per day in Dindaspur. Her Indian name now is Amma Roja, we’ll have you know, and the official change is due to appear any minute in the gazette.
Let’s come to the young and hot (yes, that is no crime!) lasses Ms Kathleen Connelly and Ms Lisa Donian next. They may have been swimwear models earlier, but so what? They were merely following the path of minimalism, as prescribed by Devdutt Pattanaik in one of his ‘Secrets’ books (Victoria’s, maybe?).
That apart, any time you wish, through a TV channel known for its pursuit of high-decibel truth, we will be able to supply the Aadhar cards of these upstanding young women as proof of their legitimacy. And show you photographs of them in traditional salwar kameezes , doing genuine swachch Bharatiya activities like milking cows, going panchgavya tasting, and dancing the garba platonically with their new cousins Hardik- bhai and Mansukh- bhai .
As for Ms Robin Maise, the brunette (which shows how inaccurate and cruel Tharoor is by categorising them all blondes), she is currently working with Shri Paresh Rawal- ji on how to make extra-strong rope using nothing but dried go doo-doo that will help secure human shields more efficiently to the front of jeeps. After all, writers, frail though they may appear to be, are tricky customers, capable of even wriggling out of the toughest publishing contract.
But the best part of Tharoor’s tweet is how he ignores the very obvious subtext that shows us, by which I mean them, in a golden light. I refer, of course, to the weapon in question: petrol bombs.
What does it mean when people can go around hurling petrol bombs at each other?
One thing and one thing only: development.
Even if petrol prices haven’t come down, as all the crybabies have been going on about, the fact that ordinary people, including our enemy, can purchase petrol for bombs means employment has increased, there are higher salaries, and therefore young people have so much disposable income that they can set fire to it, and hurl it in glee.
We rest their case.
Long live us. That is, them.
Krishna Shastri Devulapalli is a satirist and humour writer. He is the co-editor of the anthology Madras on My Mind: A City in Stories.
