Netagiri

by Cyrus Broacha

  Col. Jagee recalled the day he did and cursed himself for not reading the fine print. The money that had been returned to him (unsubstantiated rumours say 65 hundred thousand Ragoos) caused him to believe the deal was above board, honest, and most importantly, completely favourable to him. He cursed himself for wearing underpants that day. He had long before established a correlation between clothes and brain activity. The less clothes, the better the brain activity. He made a mental note to have underwear banned nationally somewhere down the line. In the meantime, Amama was handing out the new sacks which were folded into the size of a small handkerchief. This was held tightly in place by a series of knots which would take an average engineering graduate roughly 45 minutes to unravel. As the other teams started experimenting with their sacks, Col. Jagee was getting more and more agitated. Shampoo wasn’t making much headway. So Col. Jagee asked the SWIM brothers to do the needful. However, the SWIM brothers had just declared a state of emergency. They had been asked to separate and occupy different positions, one brother at the starting point of the race, and the second a good 100 meters away. As mentioned four times before, and once in this book, the SWIM brothers never separated, not to use the toilet, not to eat a meal, not even to surf highly illegal material on the net.

  In fact, they were so close to actually overcoming fear and finally throwing a tantrum. Then fear won, and one of the SWIM brothers fainted, the one on the right. That is the one on the right of the one on the left. This did nothing for Col. Jagee’s mood. And then for Col. Jagee, almost in slow motion, the whistle blew.

  And the race had started. As Shabbir Hoosein reached the 100-metre mark, none of the others had even managed to open their sacks (when translated back into GYAANDOSTAANI, there is no question of a pun). Highly muffed, Col. Jagee ordered for a pair of scissors. Even as they cut open the sack, Amama had reached the 200-metre mark along with Shabbir Hoosein.

  The Sandwich Party’s gentler elements placed a SWIM brother’s still body on the hundred mark line. Meanwhile the one on the right of the one previously on the left, covered with soot, entered the sack. After being spun around, he was off, never to be seen again. Okay, that’s an exaggeration. He was found the following Tuesday. In the meanwhile, to the roar of a packed stadium, Paul Huskee, Ray Chow, Shabbir Hoosein, and Amama pushed past the finish line. Only Amama complained. That is because he was right at the top of the sack, the joint where Paul Huskee’s boot made unfailing and repetitive contact. The Ball and Socket Party did a lap of honour, with only Shabbir Hoosein being left in the sack as his arms had been badly entangled in the knots. But even he, rolling around on his torso in a Khakhi shelter, was enjoying the obvious support and goodwill of the crowd. In the meantime Col. Jagee was being held back by Shampoo and others who were vainly pointing out that choking this SWIM brother for the other SWIM brother’s disappearance was perhaps a crime. Not that it mattered to the one on the left of the one of the right. He was out for the count. The big worry for Col. Jagee was, so it appeared, his Sandwich Party.

  The Glasnost Times was very specific in its headlines. ‘No meat in Sandwich Party’. ‘Party’s performance left between the breads’. The editor Andrei used a lot of mixed metaphors about Col. Jagee’s impending demise in his editorial. ‘The Bull was caught well and truly with his pants down’ being amongst the nicer references.

  The Sandwich Party’s gentler elements placed a Swim brother’s still body on the hundred mark line.

  GYAANDOSTAAN was by no means a great sporting nation. They had only twice before qualified for the Olympic games. And their performance was so poor that it was said they even failed the march past.

  Let’s move now to Col. Jagee’s quarters where he was perusing the two newspapers. The Waving Flag didn’t even mention the Parliamentary Games, which was strange as they were one of the sponsors. Col. Jagee was so angry and seething that he had donned a bathrobe. Someone had told him it belonged to Chengiz Khan’s grandson, Hugulu. How a GYAANDOSTAANI citizen came to inherit a 800-year-old piece of clothing was not very clear. Also how a Mongol Prince got his hands on a terry cotton bathrobe 800 years ago was even murkier. As any Mongol historian would tell you, Hugulu hated baths. And besides, you didn’t put the fear of God in all of Central Asia and South East Europe by prancing around in a purple bath robe, not in those days at least. Not unless this was a precursor to a mating ritual.

  The Col. bit his lip and spat at Gomango Bosh. Gomango looked at Shampoo for support, but Shampoo was busy sending a picture of Hugulu Jagee to Paul Huskee on his phone. In order to earn compassion, Gomango Bosh started coughing. Really coughing, with the odd sneeze and shiver thrown in to compound the effect. But Hugulu Jagee was in no mood to take prisoners.

  Col. Jagee: ‘The Parliamentary Games are our greatest cultural extravaganza. After fixing them for 40 years, how did we mess it up? Who is responsible?’

  Gomango Bosh knew the obvious answer was to show Hugulu a picture of himself but better sense prevailed. And remember our Hugulu wasn’t as balanced as the original Hulugu.

  Gomango Bosh: ‘President Sir, why are you looking behind?’

  To this Col. Jagee cast a sheepish cursory glance behind himself.

  Gomango Bosh: ‘It’s not my place as public prosecutor to advise you, but I’m told by others that since the momentum is with Ball and Socket, maybe it’s best to reconcile with them. Put out the olive branch, so to speak.’

  To this Col. Jagee sprang out of his bathrobe and was absolutely beside himself. Meanwhile Shampoo quickly clicked a new picture of the wannabe Mongol overlord, and quickly doused the flames.

  Shampoo: ‘I’ve got some good news, Col. Jagee, and it’s just outside your office.’

  This seemed to have the desired effect on Col. Jagee. He wore the bathrobe again and sank back into his chair.

  Col. Jagee: ‘What is it? Have the SWIM brothers been located and flogged?’

  Shampoo: ‘Better, much better. See for yourself.’

  With this Shampoo opened the door and a young, extremely effete man entered. He had on a multicoloured pair of jeans and a leopard print t-shirt, but it was the straw hat which gave Mohan Huskee that really outlandish look.

  Shampoo: ‘Col. Jagee, Gomango Bosh, please meet Mohan Huskee, the youngest of all the Huskees, who has left the Ball and Socket Party and has defected to the Sandwich Party.’

  Mohan Huskee was effete and feminine. He made Shampoo look like Chengiz Khan himself. Col. Jagee’s mood changed immediately. If there were cracks in the Huskee family, this would only be good news for him.

  Col. Jagee: ‘Welcome Mohan (In GYAANDOSTAANI the A in Mohan was silent so the sound was more Mohn. In fact, in the Gyaandostaan alphabet, lots of letters were silent. This was a cause of great confusion, especially if your name was made up of all such silent alphabets.), lovely to have you. How is your brother, father, mother, and grandfather?’

  Mohan Huskee courtisied and began his sad tale. He spoke of how he had always been sidelined in the Huskee household. When he wanted to pursue dancing, he was denied. His collection of poetry titled Love on a Stationary Cycle had also been denied publishing. His paintings, which were a tribute to the nude form of males in their seventies, were never encouraged. It all reached a head when he asked Paul to consider him for Deputy President if the Ball and Socket Party came to power. He spoke of how enraged he was when Paul’s answer was to laugh loudly for 15 minutes consecutively and then hold his head in a bucket of water. He shared how he didn’t mind being suffocated and humiliated by his brother. But when Amama and Ray Chow removed his trousers and tattooed Deputy President on his posterior, he felt quite ashamed. But even this was bearable. It’s just when Bella Terrace and Shabbir Hoosein tied him to a car and dragged him around their parking lot that something in him snapped, and though he thought it was his spinal cord, it couldn’t have been, because that snapped a long time ago. Years of humiliation had finally gotten to him and so here he was, with vital information for Col. Jagee. Inform
ation that would cause Col. Jagee great joy. In return, all he wanted was a Deputy Presidentship or a cabinet portfolio. And regarding the latter, he didn’t want ‘Defence’ as he didn’t like guns. He also didn’t want ‘Home’ as he liked to step out a little and he didn’t want ‘Parliamentary Affairs’ as he didn’t know what it meant.

  Col. Jagee stopped laughing for a second and said, ‘Oh, you’re being serious?’

  Mohan Huskee: ‘Do you know my parents made me swap my birthday with Paul? I’m July born, and his is Feb 29th. Since his is on a leap year, they celebrate his on 11th July and mine once every four years only.’

  Col. Jagee (by now smiling and beaming): ‘It’s a travesty, a blot against all the collective laws of natural justice. But, without sounding disrespectful, what information could you possibly give me that will bring Paul Huskee to his knees, except maybe spondylitis?’

  Mohan Huskee: ‘What I give you will assure you victory at the next elections. That’s what information I got.’

  Nobody was laughing now. Hugulu Jagee fastened his bathrobe belt in such a way it covered his navel, but left the above and below relatively free. But Col. Jagee was, for the first time in a long time, feeling a little triumphant. Hope had come from unexpected quarters. Mohan may have been a non-entity. In fact he was so under the radar that for 4 years in a row in his childhood, his family forgot to pay his school fees. The colonel made a decision. He opened his bathrobe belt.

  Col. Jagee: ‘If what you say helps us to win, the Deputy Presidency is yours. What do you think, Governor?’

  Gomango Bosh: ‘Well, first I want to know how a grown man can actually have a 24-inch waist.’

  It was true. Mohan Huskee was the thinnest person in all of GYAANDOSTAAN, if you don’t count the people depicted in paintings and stick figures found in the ancient caves of South West GYAANDOSTAAN.

  Mohan Huskee: ‘What I’m about to tell you must stay in this room.’ He said this with the authority and confidence of a one-legged acrobat about to walk a tight rope blindfolded and 3, 000 feet from the earth.

  Col. Jagee, Gomango Bosh, and Shampoo all nodded in approval and collectively moved closer. Why this is done in human behaviour is unclear. But suffice to say that when one human is about to tell an earth- shattering story like revealing his birth mother’s true gender, the group for some reason closes in on him.

  Animals like hyenas do the same thing. Though it must be said amongst hyenas if gossip is not appreciated, then the rest of the hyenas urinate on the one chanting the gossip gospel, which in hyena society is not necessarily a sign of disapproval, unless it happens twice on the same day.

  Mohan Huskee: ‘As you’ve guessed after the Parliamentary Games, the Ball and Socket Party has made a killing on their deal with China. The figure is astonishing, and they are going to use their money to aggressively market their campaign and wipe-out not just the Sandwich Party but sandwiches from the face of the earth. They’ve collected the entire signing amount which comes to 30 million US dollars. However, they’ve invested the money in The People’s Democratic Bank of Liberal North Korea where Kim Jong Sul the third has promised 33 percent interest rate per year on any sum of money over 10 million dollars invested in this bank. In fact, the money of all the major governments are now parked in North Korea. The idea is to pull out the money at the time you announce elections only, then using that money power to devour the Sandwich Party once and for all.’

  Col. Jagee didn’t like this. Why did Mohan Huskee have to be so graphic? He swallowed the air and asked Mohan Huskee to continue.

  Mohan Huskee: ‘Well Sir, you have a window of opportunity. You see from tomorrow North Korea is closed for renovation.’

  Col. Jagee: ‘Closed for renovation?’

  Mohan Huskee: ‘Yes, every year on Kim Jong Sul the third’s (he killed the first?) birthday, North Korea is shut for five days in a period known as “renovation”. Renovation signifies some act or event that goes on per day which is supposed to improve and better society in North Korea. On day 1 he purges the country of evil relatives. This includes relatives that have committed crimes such as walking in front of him for a second or so, or wearing the same coloured hat as him, or for renting the same movie a second time in a row. The method of execution varies. Bad relatives are shot. Very bad are fed to starving animals. The worst ones are fed to starving relatives. All the executions are watched live on TV and all have great advertising and great amount of sponsorship. On day 2, Kim Jong Sul the third executes all his corrupt officials. This is done in an intelligent, scientific, and precise manner. By choosing names randomly out of yellow pages, if they turn out to be office bearers, Kim Jong Sul the third gives himself a star; if not, he executes them anyway for wasting his time.

  ‘On day 3, it’s time for celebrations. This is his actual birthday. Kim Jong Sul the third organizes grand buffets across the length and breadth of the country. To make sure citizens can eat in peace, all beggars and foreigners are rounded up and shot. To give them a fair trial, all foreigners are asked if they are foreigners or beggars. Then in keeping with North Korean tradition, they are shot regardless of their answers.

  ‘Day 4 is a recovery day. All citizens are supposed to stay indoors at home and recover from the birthday celebrations. If you are found loitering, you are given two choices. You are questioned and then shot, or just shot.

  ‘On day 5...’

  At this Col. Jagee had heard enough. He burst through his bathrobe, stood up, and scowled. ‘What has all this got to do with me? I have very little interest in Kim Jong Sul the third.’

  Mohan Huskee: ‘Well Sir, if you announce spot elections, sort of flash elections, conduct and finish the proceedings in the next 5 days, then the Ball and Socket will not be able to avail of any funds. Basically, they are penniless this particular week.’

  Col. Jagee: ‘Well, Gomango? Shampoo?’

  Gomango Bosh: ‘I see, interesting (here he had a long thoughtful pause). And what exactly on day 5?’

  Col. Jagee: ‘Forget day 5. Can we conduct an election in say the next 48 hours?’

  Gomango Bosh: ‘It’s never been done before?’

  Shampoo: ‘I think it’s a ridiculous idea. How do we know this is the truth?’

  Gomango Bosh: ‘We can check with Pying Pyong. Although it would help to know about day 5...’

  Col. Jagee: ‘I don’t want to hear about day 5. This is a great opportunity, gentleman. I need to know if we can logistically do this in one slam, bang, dunk. Shampoo, get the boys inside...no wait...let’s put it to vote, Gomango?

  Gomango Bosh: ‘Let’s not do it. Besides, we haven’t yet heard from day 5.’

  Col. Jagee: ‘I never want to hear that number again. Shampoo?’

  Shampoo: ‘I’m going with Gomango. Let’s avoid this. It’s too rushed.’

  Col. Jagee: ‘Okay, I’m for it. So it’s pretty clear then. We’ll announce the elections immediately. Thanks for coming, Mohan and Shampoo. Find Mohan a bathrobe in his size. He’s one of us now. Thank you Mohan.’

  Surprisingly for once, Mohan Huskee didn’t want to be hugged by a naked man and stood his ground.

  14

  The Waving Flag put out a full-page advertisement.

  Elections to be held on Wednesday, in all 43 provinces of GYAANDOSTAAN.

  ‘Dear citizens, my friends, brothers, and sisters. Due to impending weather conditions and technical reasons, I’m forced to hold our general elections within the next 48 hours. The actual time for casting the ballot will be 11: 09 am to 3: 27 pm on Wednesday this week. Although this puts the Sandwich Party at a great disadvantage as we’ve had no time to prepare, let me warn all players that the candidates and parties must provide a complete and detailed list of those canvassing by 4 pm tomorrow at the New Custom House “C” wing, which is where the Election Commission is located. Any complaints or queries must be addressed to Mr Gomango Bosh, Mr Shampoo, and Mr Mohan Huskee, who are the democratically elected, neutral, election office bea
rers.

  ‘Mr Bosh as you know is our public prosecutor, Mr Shampoo is now my chief political aide, and Mr Mohan Huskee I’m told is a male.

  ‘To avoid any unlawful occurrences and confrontations, here are a list of guidelines all participants in this major, mega extravaganza must adhere to.

  All candidates must appear in public in long pants at all times.

  Those who are left-handed must declare so in their application letter.

  No candidates or their party members or their supporters thereof should be found loitering around the election centres. Obviously, this rule does not apply to members and supporters of the ruling partly due to technical reasons such as having to simultaneously conduct the elections as well as deal with prevailing weather conditions at the time.

  No party supporter or member should stop citizens from entering poll booths. Obviously, the ruling party members are exempt from this rule due to technical reasons such as having to personally provide security at the booths as well as deal with prevailing weather conditions at the time.

  Citizens are told to observe basic decorum. They are not to spit, swear, and relieve themselves in the polling booth. They must, if possible, also avoid spitting, swearing, and relieving themselves on opposition candidates. This obviously doesn’t hold good for the ruling party who due to technical reasons such as long hours are left with no chance but to spit, swear, and relieve themselves on other people.