Self- Defense..!

In a speech made a few days ago, President Pratibha Patil asked girls in India to start learning karate, to defend themselves against rape and molestation.

My neighbour Mr Kumar whose sitting room I can peep into from my balcony looked up from the morning paper he was reading as his daughter walked in, “Shanti you can take a year off from school!”

“But I don’t want to do that dad,” cried his daughter.

“President’s orders!” said Mr Kumar in a very mater of fact manner, “Go upstairs change from your school uniform into a white top and white skirt!”

“Is she going to become a nun?” asked Mrs Kumar as she ran into the room.

“She’s going to learn karate!”

“Why?” asked his wife.

“President’s orders!” said Mr Kumar showing his wife the news report.

“Mummy I don’t want to learn karate!” shouted their daughter.

“What?” asked Mr Kumar, “you want to be molested like those girls in Mumbai on New Years eve? You want to be a rape victim? There’s a rape every three minutes in our country!”

“But the police are meant to protect her!” said Mrs Kumar.

“The police are meant to protect our VIP’s, they have to look after their police commissioners, inspector generals and other superior officers, they have to guard the President, Prime minister and all our leaders; you want to be selfish and ask them to guard our little Shanti also?”

I looked into the sitting room of my neighbour and saw that his impassioned speech had shamed his wife and daughter who’d bent their heads in remorse; Mr Kumar had gone back to reading his paper.

“You know something husband,” said Mrs Kumar suddenly, “would the karate school issue a certificate at the end of the course?”

“Of course!” said Mr Kumar.

“How wonderful! When our Shanti is to get married the certificate will prove she is pure and untouched!”

“Our President is brilliant isn’t she?” whispered Mr Kumar, “she must have thought all this out!”

From the balcony I watched Mrs Kumar taking her daughter up to change her clothes and a little later the front door opened and all of them trooped out with Shanti in her new karate uniform. Mr Kumar looked up at me. “We can get rid of our watchman!” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “now with Shanti learning karate even the policemen needn’t come on their daily beat.

“They can spend more time guarding the President!”

“Prime Minister”

“And their superiors!”

We watched with new hope as two year old Shanti marched down the road unsteadily for her first karate lesson..!

Goa Glue..!

“Three ministers and one independent stated that they had tendered their resignation to the governor and withdrawn support to the Goa government..”

Times, 18th Jan

It’s called Goa glue! Manufactured in Goa, by a Goan, for the politicians of Goa, but I believe it can be used anywhere in the world.

“What made you invent such a product?” I asked Remo Fernandez the man from Margao in Goa, who was behind the invention.

“You make a product when there’s a need for one,” said Remo simply, “I realized Goa needed such a glue.

“What are its qualities?”

“It keeps a politician fastened to his chair!”

“What else?”

“Keeps him stuck to his party!”

“Can he change sides?”

“He cannot change sides or loyalties during his whole term!”

I took the tube of glue. “It says the politician will also have to keep all his electoral promises,” I said delighted.

“Yes he will be rooted to whatever promises he made during election time!”

“What made you put in so much work?” I asked.

“Goa has had fifteen chief ministers in fifteen years! Months after a government is sworn in, MLA”s change their loyalties! I felt we needed something that would give Goans some hold over their politicians!”

“What about corruption?”

“His palms are stuck together!”

“Crossing floors?”

“Feet are stuck!”

“Making and causing commotion in the house?”

”His back is stuck to the chair!”

“But he could still react to lucrative offers that come to him!”

“Ears are stuck together!”

“That means he will just be allowed to sit and say what he has to say?”

“No!”

“No?”

“His mouth is stuck, so there’s nothing for him to say!”

I met Remo Fernandez a few weeks later and he looked gloomy.

“Glue not selling?” I asked.

“It’s selling!” he said.

“So what’s the problem?”

“The politicians bought up all the glue!”

“Whatever for?”

“They’ve used it on the people!”

“When did this happen?”

“Fifteen years ago! That’s why the politicians are running amuck! The people have had their mouths stuck together, ears that can’t hear anything and feet that cannot kick these fellows out for over a decade and a half!”

“Aha! No wonder Goa is in such a state.!”