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Black Humour

 

Mushy-urr-aff & Taj !


By Satyen K. Bordoloi/Ravi V.Chhabra


 

The Generals' wife complained, "Honey, do you still, love me?"
" Yes my dear, I do." croaked the Gen. Mushy, who, otherwise, roars before Nations.
" Want me to bring the moon and stars at your feet."
" I can't even make aachar (pickle) with your moon and stars. I'll be satisfied if you just make me to the Taj Mahal."
" How dare you take the name of our enemy nation." Gen. Mushy thundered.
" Leave your crap for the world Arrf... Why, you were even born in the capital of that nation."
" Ohh.." 
 
"I know considering the penurious state of our nation, Taj Mahal is relegated to the imagination, but can you at least take me there."
" La-Haul-Vila-Kuwat Begum, you know we can't go there."
" Oh please Mush... you won't do that much for me?"
" I'll see what I can do." the doting Mushy-of-a- hubby said, well aware that despite the dilapidated condition of his nation, building a Taj Mahal was easier than visiting the one already existent across the border.
 
The Royal Vazir, incidentally, was waiting outside.
" Vazir, our begum makes an impossible wish."
" Oh sire... that's the most politically-diplomatic wish I've heard."
" You've been eavesdropping? Forget it... what's so extraordinary in that."
 
"You see sir, it's the chance for you to earn brownie points. First, infiltrate some mangoes across the border. Then challenge them a visit to the monument of eternal love. If they allow, talk of peace."
" But Vazir we are still sending soldiers clandestinely across the border."
 
"Ah... mere statistics! You know it. I know it. Who else does? Why should the infiltration of a couple of thousand soldiers across the border affect peace."
" But what if the peace succeeds. You know I'll be rendered impotent. Imagine the shame of being called the dictator of a peaceful country. How disgraceful to the clan of dictators."
 
"Sire. If you look back 50 years, peace has always been in pieces. And why, all because of the 'K' factor."
" You mean the K in eKta Kapoor. I'd love to meet her. She makes such fantasmagorical flights of fantasy."
" No sire! Kashmir."
" You mean the Led Zepplin song."
" Ah.. my political master. You know that walls have ears and hence your discretion. I understand. But all you have to do when the peace talks begin, is take the 'K' word nauseating number of times, and see the peace melt like the ice inside a fridge without electricity."
 
And so it came to pass, the general pleased his wife, the world praised him for his bus journey and in the end, nothing really came to pass. Afterall, all's well, that never happened. 
CIRCA: March 2005. The Generals begum makes a wish that she wants to see a cricket match between the two nations. 
Note: HISTORY IS PROOF THAT HISTORY ALWAYS REPEATS HIS-Story! 

 
Kofi With Currant!

Ravi V.Chhabra
 
We bring to you this year, the ‘Man For All Seasons’….Yea, you know him. He had to come to my show. How could he not? The last time I was in DC, Bill told me how much Kofi liked my show, specially when ever he gulps a hot jar of cappuccino.
Transcript:
Currant: Hi, Kofi. Its such a pleasure to have a Man on my show. The last one I had was…oh, I’ve just forgotten….
Kofi: Hey, Currant. Can we get down to the basics? How are you managing the HIV stuff in your country?
Currant: Well, Kofi. You know we at Bollywood have just ordered a consignment of condoms from a Pataya-based company. Although I was wondering all along if your son’s company also dealt in this rubbery stuff. Neverthless, this will hit over 200,000 homes, sorry, homeless in Mumbai.
Kofi: Good going. I hope the company you are outsourcing it from has some American connection?
Currant: Yes, Kofi. Do you think we Bollywoodians look as stupid and ugly as Hollywoodians?
Kofi: At least you don’t ! I like your well-groomed look and colorful attire and your smile. I mean I specially liked the way you portrayed Shah Rukh Khan in…oh..I forget that darn film name. Tell me what’s the next film gonna be called?
Currant: To be honest. I wanted to call it “Blue Film” but somehow it got leaked and Mr. Mahesh Bhatt got the wind, so thats gone to the Dog. I might mine : XXX.(triple X)!
Kofi: Currant, you are amazing. Can I suggest you make a film on Iraq called: Carpet?
Currant: I didn’t getya Kofi?
Kofi: Well, its short for Carpet Bombing and also gives a PR edge to the carpet industry in that culturally-ravaged COUNTY!.
Currant: Kofi, you just forgot you are on tape! Anyway, you get this hamper which is full of Coffee beans. Make sure you don’t spill them on the way…long flight back home, haan? Thanks for coming to my show. May be, the next time I will host you on MY SHOW will be after Iran is Carpeted.
Note: White Noise on screen. (Interview ends) 
 
THE CASTING OUCHChhhh!
Satyen K. Bordoloi
 
Background: 
Oman Sharmila, the famous Bollywood director, feels his spider-sense tingle when a girl, Gladami Hunterwali calls him to her hotel room. 
Hunterwali (HW): O Man, Oman! 
O-man (OM): Hunt-her… Hunterwali… 
HW: I’m worth hunting.
Oman is scared at this instigation.
OM: I mean you’re beautiful (he says only to realise that this could be construed as lewd) you’re not… I mean you’re very masculine… 
HW: What?
OM: Your name. You grandmother’s called Nadia?
HW: How did you know?
OM: Just figured. 
HW: Her surname was funnier.
OM: What?
HW: Goli-bari! Nadia Golibari.
OM: Oh whatever!
HW: Listen O-man, I need your help.
 
OM: What can you do?
HW: Everything. You name it and I’ll do it. 
Oman gulps. He tries to tests waters. 
OS: Still… what can you do like dancing, acting, exposing (truth is an easy slipper)…
HW: Of course. Anything. See… (she removes her t-shirt revealing a tank-top inside) 
Oman’s is salivating. 
HW: And my movements are gracious.
When Hunterwali moves seductively, Oman smells a fish.
OM: Enough? 
HW: You want me to remove everything?
OM: (alarmed) Nooooooooo! 
HW: But you must test me. The last producer used me for 2 years without divorcing his wife… What an insult to my womanhood? (She is crying). 

OM: Lady, not everyone is like that. 
HW: Yes. Oman… grant me a wish…
OS: (expectantly) Anything. 
HW: I’ve always wanted one, but never did. 
OS: Tell me. 
HW: Be my brother. 
Omans heart breaks into a billion pieces. 
OM: Yes… 
Gladami Hunterwali cuts a little band out of her t-shirt and ties it around his wrist as heavens rain flowers at this Kodak moment. 
HW: But there’s some way you should know I’m dedicated? 
OM: You know all my heroines’ names start with M?
HW: Yes. Aaaa… how’s Mad-m-i Hunterwali? 
OM: You get the role.
 
Sanjeeb Kaput's Recipee!
Black Cockroacoff!
Ravi V.Chhabra

 
Fixingses:


a) 69 Fat freshly caught live black cockroaches
b) Two tablespoonfuls of freshly ground coffee beans
c) One 500 ml jarful of fresh hand-pumped ground water
d) Sugar to taste
e) One teaspoon salt
f)  Garnish with 10 currants
Methodology: 
Tear open the pests' legs in jerks, roast
cockroaches till half-burnt. Boil to simmer with coffee powder mixed in hand-pumped water at 95 degrees. Add sugar and salt. Stir well with a fat, long chopstick. 
Preparation time: 
Usually 30,9,995 nanoseconds.
Warning: Consult a toxicologist before gulping.






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