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THIS ABOVE ALL
Uma erupts again
Khushwant Singh
 The
incidence of eccentricity is noticeably higher among women politicians
than their male counterparts. Though I can name quite a few chief
ministers and ministers of the Central Cabinet who, if examined by
psychiatrists, would have been certified as psychopaths needing to be
institutionalised, the percentage of women in the same category is
provably higher.
One does not have to go
far to see how badly some men behave in Parliament and state legislature
(a few yell slogans oftener than make coherent speeches) but rarely have
I seen one hurl papers at the Speaker before stamping out, threaten to
cut off his hair or beard, or commit suicide if things don’t go his
way.
More women politicians
are known to have indulged in such shenanigans. Their behaviour is also
more unpredictable. Mamata Banerjee is notable for her chronic
ill-temper and for exploding into incomprehensible speech. Uma Bharti,
equally unpredictable in her behaviour, goes many steps further than
Mamata. There is nothing of a sanyasin about her except the
saffron clothes she displays: she is full of worldly ambitions. She has
the gift of the gab and can rouse illiterate mobs by her frenzied
oratory. She can win elections anywhere in the Hindi belt where the
unlettered poor outnumber the literate. She talks of love for humanity:
she did so in eloquent English after Asa Ram Bapu had ended one of his
sermons. But she excludes Muslims and Christians being worthy of her
love. She is among the principal instigators of the demolition of the
Babri Masjid and has been charged for the crime along with Murli Manohar
Joshi who she embraced exultantly when the mosque dome came down. She
cannot make up her mind whether she wants to devote her life to
meditation and prayer as a sanyasin should or again become Chief
Minister of Madhya Pradesh. All the feeding and kissing cows and calves
is calculated to win the hearts of the superstitious masses. I am glad
BJP leaders have expelled her from the party. I hope they will stick to
their resolve.
How does anyone deal
with the likes of Uma Bharti? I know precisely what needs to be done to
them but cannot spell it out. No editor will publish it. And I will be
condemned as a male chauvinist pig.
Bonding humans and
beasts
During the last couple
of years when I was still with the Indian High Commission in London,
among my close English friends was Tristan-Jones, business manager of Sunday
Observer. My wife and I were among the five invited to the Registry
where he married a German girl Annalie. They made their home in a
distant village St Nicholas-At-Wade on the Kentish coast. We were often
invited to spend weekends there. It was a two-storeyed cottage named
Street Acre, with a large uncultivated patch of green growing thorn
bushes, bramble and wild grass. On our first visit, I discovered why the
Jones had not grown flowers or planted fruit trees. As soon as Tristan
drove into the garage of Street Acre, he was welcomed by the loud
braying of a donkey and bleating of a goat. The donkey went galloping
around the patch hee-hawing and kicking its hind legs in sheer joy.
The goat kept pace
along its side crying baa-baa. It took some time for them to calm down.
Tristan hugged and kissed them in turn and asked them "How are you
old boy?". The donkey was named Mumbo Jumbo Jones, the goat Seth
Parker Jones. The patch of grass and weeds was their territory. They had
their own shed. No flowers or fruit-bearing trees could have survived
their hunger. They had the shed to shelter them from rain and snow. It
had a manger and trough of water.
The Joneses’ dining
room had a large bay window. At meal times, the donkey and the goat put
their heads through the window and were given carrots, radishes and
cubes of sugar. The bonding between the Jones’ growing family
continued for many years. They named one of their daughters after mine:
Mala Tristan Jones. We kept in touch. Tristan died some years ago —
followed by Mumbo Jones and Seth Parker Jones. Annalie writes to us
periodically and tells us about her children and the goings-on at Street
Acre.
Human, beast and bird
relationships can be more rewarding than bonding between humans of the
two sexes. And more varied. Besides dogs and cats, humans have
befriended pigs, llamas, dog-sized breed of monkeys, ponies, tigers,
lions, bears, parrots, mynahs, ostriches, partridges, squirrels, rats
— you name them and you will find people who dote on them to
distraction. They ask for nothing besides food, and affection. They
return it in full measure. Without pets, human life is barren. I pity
those who have never known the love animals and birds can give to
humans.
Two cheers for Greg
Chappell
Eight victories in
eleven outings,
Victories against the
‘second best’ teams of the world,
Had you ever imagined or
heard!
Lamenting, lacerating
despairing, debunking,
The usual welcome to the
Men in Blue,
That was, and would have
been the story of Indian cricket,
But for the great tango of
the great two,
Dravid and Greg, but Greg
is the one,
Who has a near-miracle
done.
The feisty Aussie, a man
of cunning and of imagination,
A feisty Australian with
his eye on World Cup 2007,
A man who gave hope to
young India and threw out the dead wood old,
A cold professional, a man
of iron discipline,
Whose ‘perform or perish’
mantra, but for Kolkata chauvinists,
Might as well have for us
the South African series won.
But the job is half, or
less than half done,
For, he is only an Aussie,
and a ‘fingering’ one,
Who knows not the depth of
our nepotism and corruption,
And our politics’
curious turn,
Which might even risk a
rout, and throw him out.
(Courtesy: Kuldip
Salil, Delhi)
Mistaken identity
The judge looked
angrily down at the prisoner in the dock, "‘Why’, he asked, ‘did
you kick and punch this man so brutally"?’ ‘Sure, and it was
all a terrible mistake, your honour. I had taken alcohol and was a
little confused. I thought it was my wife."
(Contributed by Judson Cornelius,
Hyderabad)
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