Sivarasan’s stooge was in a tizzy. His hair stood on end as he jabbed a pen viciously at the table. His brahmin subtlety was thrown in a heap in the bin and the surface had been scratched, so to speak. His pretension of calm lay in ruins and instead he was this frothing rabid morph now, barking viciously.
The reason for his tizzy was the he had been given a rare opportunity to express his views. His views were neither here nor there, but he expressed them anyway. His jumbled rantings didn’t make much sense on re-reading but he ranted anyway. He loved the idea of himself as an angry young man with a passionate ranting ability.
Sivarasan also was in a tizzy. Inspite of making crores from the public exchequer, he felt that he was beyond the law and that anyone who questioned him should be tied to a stake and burnt alive.
He felt that being a dictator entitled him to some rights. If the government could amass money without letting anyone know what it was doing with it, well then so could he…………. He had taken it upon himself to do whatever the government was supposed to do and not do it even worse than the government was not. When challenged, he threw the government’s inefficiency at their face. The fact that his dictatorship was even more inefficient was relegated to the dustbin.
In the meantime the Ramayans were ready to explode. They felt that their brahmin privileges had been snatched from under their noses. Upstarts who should have been groveling before them, especially those from the lower castes, were now acting up. This was indigestible for the Ramayans who spent several years subsequently trying to reclaim power from the upstarts. They did this through every underhand way they had in their enormous resource centre and spat putrid venom to every of their acquaintances, about the audacity of the upstarts.
Sevasadan, in the meantime, had elevated himself into an oily brahmin status. His moral integrity, which had never really existed, morphed into a permanent state of immoral disintegrity. His personal stooges had bloated into fat businessmen who could negotiate a mean deal selling commons to the profiteers.
Get a Sen(se) had been offered yet another honorary doctorate in “recognition of her national and international contribution to ill -health and social inequity”. This raised the number of honorary doctorates that she had received to an alarming 178.
This immediately got her an invitation to speak at the Disunited nations forum about sustainable development of the Tambrams. The Tambrams of her institution had long expressed their concern about insurgency into their institution by non tambrams. Bad enough some of them were non tambrams, some of them (god forbid!!) were even non brams. These people wanted to eat at the same table as the Tambrams which they (TAmbrams) naturally found highly offensive and repulsive. They had therefore asked for separate eating facilities. “This isn’t segregation” they said “Just time management’.The fact that all those who were made to wait in a queue and eat later were non brams was labeled as a “surprising co-incidence”.
Miss Muffet was frothing at the mouth about new regulations on clinical trials and how it was a black day for her and her BPAC (Bringing Privatisation across the Country) junkies.
Desi Sweaty was oiling his way through some more state machinery.
Shrimanth Deadly was looking at forming another High Level Economic Group to re-energise his falling ratings.
For the average man and woman, life goes on as usual – abysmal healthcare, dismal sanitation, unavailable water and a rapid exit to the grave.