Jairam Ramesh's Big Mouth Resisting The Urge To Call CWG as 'Colonial Relic'

Union Minister for Environment, Jairam Ramesh's big mouth is reportedly itching to lambast the Commonwealth Games as an Imperial Relic. Our embedded sources say that the loudmouth minister, known for shooting-crooked from his hips, is fighting hard to resist the temptation of calling down the games as an 'imperial anachronism' that should have no place in a free world.

"Commonwealth, ha! Its a lie. Actually, it's the sum total of all the stolen wealth of commons of ex-British colonies illegally held by Empire Britannica, dammit!" an enraged Ramesh barked at Suresh Kalmadi, President of IOA and Chairman of Organizing Committee of forthcoming Commonwealth Games to be held in New Delhi in October 2010, when the two met each other to discuss the environmental impact of the games on the fragile ecosystem of Yamuna river. Sources, having deep access to the inner workings of the mind of the President of IOA, say that Kalmadi fought hard to resist the temptation of describing the Delhi CWG as 'quadrupled wealth of commons of India, churaoed, to build Empire Kalmadica."

Jairam Ramesh has made no bones about his distaste for these games and was heard grumbling to several MP's in Rajya Sabha "Commonwealth games should be called Kohinoor Games! Instead of reclaiming our stolen wealth, we are making our athletes fight for few worthless pieces of base metal coated with just 2 microns of gold, silver and bronze coins and celebrating the great robbery of our nation with trumpeted-fanfare. I want the return of Kohinoor diamond back to India, not a bag of shinning coins."

"I've still not been able to figure out why we stick to such pointless colonial relics. Even if we win maximum number of gold or silver coins, which we are not going to, what will it prove? That we are the first amongst former slaves of our erstwhile masters?" Jairam sniggered to the group of parliamentarians who nodded in agreement, but warned him not to shoot his mouth off in public.

"If you want to celebrate freedom from the Empire by playing games with former slaves of the Empire, at least keep the British out from the games! Call it 'Freedom Games' and also invite ex-colonies of Spain, Portugal and France to play with you." suggested the UMoE to Union Minister of Sports, MS Gill, who agreed in principle with Ramesh, but politely ignored his proposal, pointing out to him that India wins more medals at CWG than Asian or Olympic Games. "More the countries, lesser our chances of winning medals!" said Gill to Ramesh.

Taking his idea forward, emboldened by the feeble yet grudged-response, Ramesh sought an appointment with the genial Sardar-with-one-blue-humble-turban, Ramesh mused at his bathroom mirror, " Our Prime Ministerji will definitely approve, especially now when there is a newbie Government in place in London who are on a flab-cutting spree. I have it from confirmed sources that in order to attend the Games all the members of the figurehead bunch of useless Royals have been advised that they will not be flown because of the risk of ash in the engines but to be on the safe side they will be shipped by a steamer to the steaming Metropolis where they will be given the brown carpet treatment, reserved exclusively in memory of the former stinking Viceroys ( How can people only wipe and not wash their bums?) who also left behind a much bigger devil in the form of a red cherry and three stumps and a log that was shaped by an optically-challenged deserter of the Royal Buggers Army lodged in the Circular Jail, into a funny piece because all he wanted to was to stretch the time he had and thus delay the inevitable end that a deserter deserves, a swing from the ropes."

In answer to Naughty Drool TeleVision's Burkha Mutt, " What if the Prime Minister shift-deletes your proposal?", the ever-effervescent Jairam replied, " I will seek the blessings of Madamji, who as always is the unknown Q factor."

P.Chidambaram resigns - once again!!

by Maverick58

As if it was not enough for the incumbent Home Minister, Thiru.P.Chidambaram, now, his fax machine finally succumbed to the electronic mating-warble of another machine from across the border, who had ditched the fax-machine of the aging External Affairs, Mr. Krishna. This latest romantic match-up has sent a Richter-8 temblor in the corridors of spooks across the world. For, what the CIA, RAW and MOSSAD failed repeatedly to do, a simple throw-away from the Nixon-era ad eagerly bought by the ISI to cut costs and with the fond hope that they could reverse-eavesdrop on Nixon's antics.

Subsequently, the machine was used to trap-convert the machines of Mujibur Rehman, Bhutto and a host of foreign dignitaries who asked for secretarial services of the urgent-top secret kind. In any case history lessons are boring as much as a small plate of thayir-saadam on a hot, humid day. Suffice to say, that ever since P.Chidambaram's machine got turned Maoists have upped their ante, Ministerial colleagues are taking digs at him for being intellectually-arrogant and everyday is filled with the hope that some Mazumda or Halda does not cock-a-snook at him.

Now with Nandan Nilekani also eating away his security-limelight, P.Chidambaram feels he has lost it. In a candid monologue to his bathroom mirror who is the only witness to Chiddu bhai's secret of how many silver hairs he has while he pretend-believes that he has none, he spoke for a long time about the travails he has undergone as the No:2, in the COM. His home state ffers him no solace, his constituents boo at him, every time he turns up to inaugurate a primary school in the middle of nowhere or a dry hand-pump in a water-starved habitation and wax eloquent on the need to conserve water.

His obedient yet traitorous fax machine decided to take matters into its small maw and sent a discreet flirt-ping to its mate across the border asking for some help. And help did arrive in pages and pages that were stored digitally and the editing, copy-paste work began in earnest in tandem. Finally, in the aftermath of their warbling orgasm, the electronic tele-printers, faxes all over the country started pinging the news that set off the Richter 10 temblor that is shaking the corridors of spooks. Apparently, the ISI machine was so much in love with its Indian counterpart that it decided to burn the asset to bring her back to its original place - a cubby hole in the bathroom of used teleprinter which was locked in the cellar of a room that was out of bounds to everybody including to the cleaning room. It did so, by sending a fax to the genial sardar, who has only one blue turban, India's prime minister ( Are there any non-prime ministers? ) that apparently was written by Thiru.P.Chidambaram himself, a brief one-liner, I resign from the Cabinet with immediate effect.

Exclusive Eyjafjallajokull spout!

by Maverick58

We sent our intrepid reporter for special spouts, Monisha Koibhinahin, after ascertaining the womb trails in Mother Gaia, not known to many and known to a few ( not including Rumsfeld ) to interview the headline dominating spout, Eyjafjallajokull, for an exclusive to world media who are currently speculating about the end-time of Eyjafjallajokull's spout. While Monisha Koibhinahin, is rather unknown like the spout, she is no stranger to hot places, however high she and they maybe. Following are the excerpts:

Through the crawl-space, 118 miles underneath the surface, donning a thermal-suit, the curvaceous Monisha Koibhinahin, located the stomach of all the four volcanos ( Grimsvotn, Hekla and Askja, which are all larger than Eyjafjallajokull ), which was connected to the DungHole other wise known as Deepwater Horizon. Snacking on Lays Magic Masala, the four volcanos were chuckling over some private joke with DH. Eyjafjallajokull, was the first to notice Monisha's presence ad began frothing, lightly and as a result the whole of Europe shut own their airports in a hurry.

Shane Bond Retires From All Forms Of Injuries

(Contributed by SD)

Shane Bond, the prolific New Zealand injured has announced his retirement from all forms of injuries less than a year after successfully battling a severe bout of pace bowling. The back-injury specialist made an explosive debut when he lost balance and fell down the stairs of his home in Christchurch. This initial success didn’t last long though, and he soon found himself playing against Australia in 2001. Not one to be bogged down by cricket, Bond quickly worked his way back to the top by tearing his abdomen. He was never the most consistent performer. His troughs were deep; Bond had to undergo the ordeal of Test cricket a record 18 times, but his crests were equally high.

The pivotal moment of his career came when he swung from a disastrous 6/19 attack of pace-bowling to a longevity-defining stint of broken-back, only to get sucked back into being the No.1 fast bowler. He also successfully remodelled the way he injured himself, which is rare thing for injury specialists to do. Bond ended his back-injury career last December, and has now decided to step away from abdominal injuries and knee injuries as well.

After returning home from yet another affliction of pace-bowling in the West Indies, Bond said that he was unwilling to compromise on the quality of his injuries and that his brain couldn’t take it any more. “Oh God, I absolutely hate cricket, and at this stage in my life, I don’t want to suffer through any more bouts of pace-bowling or *shudder* lower-order-batting”

“I dreamed of being injured ever since I was six. Despite all the pace bowling and test cricket I had to deal with, the reality of what has unfolded was more than I could have ever hoped for. I find it difficult to hold back. I just wanted to be injured. I am sick and tired of bowling fast and if I did that one more time, I probably would have been finished. I had a well injured career with relatively modest loss of time to cricket, so I’m happy with my decision to quit” said Bond as he left the press conference.

“For all you youngsters out there…” said Ravi Shastri, suddenly popping out of nowhere and irritating the hell out of everyone. “This is Shane Bond, and he has just retired. This is a press conference that he called to announce his retirement. These people are reporters. That is a microphone” he continued as people ignored him and sprinted out of the room.

(Headline idea by @sidvee)

"We wear only Chappals"

by Maverick58

Guffaw Gadkari's remarks made with all the stomach-burn that he could muster at his command have not gone down well with the ordinary Congress worker. They point out that not even Sonia, their esteemed and revered leader, wears boots but only chappals like us. So there is no shame to be felt by Bihar's one and only, Lalu, the buffalo-herd man! In exclusive interviews to our team, Congress workers across the country held forth their view to the simple question, " What is your opinion about Guffaw Gadkari's remarks?', they replied:

Pannerselvam from Congress HQ in Tamilnadu, " Ayyo! Do not speak about our leader like that. She hates boots because her mother-in-law put the whole country under her boots for 21 months and a lot of people suffered. Lalu should remember that, Soniaji does not even own a single pair of boots, but only ordinary chappals, just like millions of hard-working, sweating -in-the-sun Congress workers. That Gadfly Gadkari should STFU and use only spokespersons, like Muthalik who get caught on spy-cams but not the omnipotent cams of Breaking News waalas. No further comments please."

Sonali Sher from Congress HQ in Kashmir, " What is wrong with you people? Cant you leave a Pandit's daughter-in-law alone? What has she done that she has to be drawn into a footwear controversy? She is not like that Marcos from Phillipines. She wears only hand-made leather thongs and she does not need the spittle of those Yadavs to shine them. Guffaw Gadkari can use their spittle for a change, from his own SS men. In any case, our loyal state unit workers of the Mahila Division have offered their pallus to clean, Madam's, foot wear. Yo can go now, you salivating hacks!"

Nirupama Chakraborty from Congress HQ in Bengal, " Oh my Goddess Durga! What is wrong with Lalu's spittle? After all it comes laced with the best of buffalo milk laden with cream and it will protect, madam's chappals!! Useless fellows, go now otherwise you will quote me as saying that TC waali's spittle is also not bad or something. Namaskar!!"

Manisha Ghatkelkar from Congress HQ in Mumbai, "Arrey! Why are you putting vaat like this? Since when has Guffaw Gadkari been obsessed with womens' footwear? I think he has multiple personality disorders to go and find a link between Yadav spittle and Italian sandals of all things! Enough! this heat here is a bitch and you idiots have to ask these silly questions. No comments and I did not use the word bitch and Madam in the same breath, you hear?"

Sunidhi Rao from Congress HQ in Hyderabad, " Do not even dare to think that Madam will allow the spittle of Lalu and Mota Mulayam to touch her hand-crafted sandals from Kolhapur and has placed the next order from Telengana for their inclusive growth. You people must be really mad and that Guffaw Gadkari needs a good spanking for talking out like that. The bloody cheek! You go now else I will ask the COBRA to encounter you!"

Chandini Kunwari at Congress HQ in Lucknow, " Guffaw Gadkari is a buddhu. He should have used Mayawati's name also. Her spittle would definitely be better than those Yadavs. You see the MBC and BC chaps have a slave mentality and they would not pass up such an opportunity to impress Madam. But then, Madam would not like her single-calf leather footwear to be spoilt , you know? Ok, i have to and yell at Mayawati at her Official residence now. ta-ta!!"

At the time of writing this report, our office in downtown Colaba has been flooded with protests about our previous article and so we have to post this half-way, but then you get the point isnt it? Or are you thick as a brick, too, like Guffaw Gadkari?

BatSpeak

Its not often that cricketers let their bat speak for themselves at press conferences, preferring rather to let them speak for themselves on the 22 yards. At the conclusion of Cricket India’s tour of the West Indies in the ongoing ICC World Twenty20 Championships, the bats sent out a SOS to all the Jamaican rum-swilling hacks for a no-holds barred, bare-all meet. For obvious reasons, the meet was conducted in the cargo-hold of the aircraft. Excerpts from the interview:

Docs-less BCCI replies to darling boy Lalit

by Maverick58

With a lawyer heading the Bad Cricket Company of India, one would expect that the charge sheet, listing out charges against the martyred poster boy of T20 cricket in India, Lalit Modi, would have basis of its charges on solid ground. Rather, they have relied on verbal communications, insinuations by grudging parties and the whole gamut of stomach-burns to level the charges with much fan-fare in the full glare of the wolf-pack visual media which normally leaves some scraps for columnists to chew upon and spew in their allegedly huge-followed-by-fans-columns, barring one provable exception, Khushwant Singh, whose propensity to pen is largely dependent on the level of his Scotland brew. His columns were ardently followed, by yours truly and many more. The Lisping Lalit, a throwback from the coke days, was pretty shrewd with his replies.

Always, with the threat of embarrassment just a whiff away, Lisping Lalit wrong stepped the BCCI right through out and has now scaled down the charges to just 4. His agile mind should not beguile you. Look at his past record. He confounded everybody by organizing a fret-free IPL2 in the rainbow Nation at short notice when Chiddu Bhai threw a spanner in the works, forcing the same guy, barring a blip, at Bangalore, in this year's IPL3, which went down flawlessly right down to the lasers and the throm-beat of uncopyrighted A.R.Rehman, another biz-savvy kid from Lisping Lalit's league. And the public be damned!

Damned as the public was the PR machinery that was unleashed left the Bad Cricketers Club of India dumbfounded. Its coffers pressurize them. Cricket, according to Modi can be milked for much more and DoorDarshan though twiddling their thumbs ever since, Lisping Lalit's scheming, hav been left out of the moolah-race without so much as a by-your-leave. The junta who is now paying around 1.5 upees of potable water per litre doesnt mind forking out the local cable TV sharks more than that. The strangle-hold that the service providers of visual content,vary their charges at a whim, and the die-hard fan of cricket, Mani Shankar Aiyer meekly pays up along with the aam-aadmi, with Jairam Ramesh, the sagitarrian who always ends up putting his foot up in his mouth

These guys mean well, but at the ministerial gates of decision making the cheat, Chiddu Bhai, has the clout to make these guys look like bumbling idiots and releases a half-page ad, issued by the MHA, that is supposedly to smell roses but ends up smelling pool of deceit. For, who knows how your basic data of UID and census, which stupidly still insists on you providing your kula, gothra and caste name.After a lil more than 60 years, they are burying Gandhi's and Ambedkar's name.

The 2.5 minute Time Out just got over.

Lisping Lalit has won round two. We hope that, in our life-times, the BCCI is disbanded and becomes more democratic in its representation and a Governing Council. That idiot's observation of not only politicians' can hold positions of eminence is being implemented in the new council, till the Glaring Uncle Pawar, quits power. And of course the suave Shashank and the toad's look like Srinivasan also quit.Cricket India, would be served better, if Kalmadi's statement of politicians are better capable than sports-persons" underscores the lie and is just pure horse-shit from one of his pet stud-farms, of sports persons running the show. The Moolah is the leveler and the leveler is the Moolah!

Where's the viewers cut? And beware of subtle hints from the idiot-box!

Post Breaking News Stress Syndrome

by Maverick58

Its' been a while since I switched on the TV after the enfant terrible of the BCCI, Lalit Kumar Modi left my TV screen in live motion. Make no mistake, they, the news channels still show him in stills and graphics and previously recorded footage but now there's no Lalit to hand-out releases or one-liners. Even the drab, print media no longer mention his name and I have gone back to solving the sudoku and the jumble and crossword which is my wont on a news-dull day. I can barely look at the TV without suffering from Post Breaking News Stress Syndrome.

For, without the breathtaking news generated by Lalit, Pawar and Shashank, every other bit of news breaking or normal looks and sounds so dull. While they were around and the news-channel hounds in heat were trotting all over the place under direct command of the anchor, it was fun. I remember flipping from channel to channel to see who was leading with the latest tidbit be it be Lalit's timed farts to the salivating cameras or the controlled burps of Shashank or the devilish glare of Pawar.An occasional glimpse of the mysterious woman, whats-her-name, would set my pulse pounding.

There has to be a woman who can stir things up and make a guy like Lalit Tweet. I wonder why did Lalit do it. The infamous tweet that set the ball rolling must have been an act of frustration of not netting a non-celebrity woman to hang on his arms during the Indian Pajama League. I am sure that must be the case. Poor Terrorur. Behind his suave, nonchalant posturing he must have been biting his finger nails away, for sure. Of course, I assuage myself, by saying that, Push-karo is no patch on Nidhi or Natasha of Naughty Drool TeleVision and I could mute the TV and just watch them for a change, but I can't bring myself to lift the remote and power the TV on.

I wonder what Lalit is doing now? Is he allowed to use his private jet? Why hasnt he come out from wherever his current rat-hole is? Why O why is he making us suffer? My middle-brain tells me he will surface after the 15 day time-period with his answers to the asks posed to him by the Bad Cricketing Company of India, who have in their midst a smattering of cricketers and a over-loaded list of cricketer-wannabes with satiated dreams of being a cricketer by mere association, leaving their middle stump exposed to the knockings of two shriveled worn out balls.

Someone ping me if Lalit shows his face on TV, until then let me do my sudoku, jumble and crossword in peace!