The Excuse Conundrum

Poor old Manmohan Singh. His government had just started the week in an absolute ballsy manner by (finally!) hanging Afzal Guru. He was looking forward to a quiet evening curled up against the Delhi winter, under his blanket and reading his favorite economics textbook. But when was the last time his ministers ever left him in peace do his net present value calculations. No sooner had he crunched his first numbers into his calculator, there came a rude interrupting call informing him that another scandal was brewing in his ministry. The VVIP chopper controversy they called it. Again he was called in to firefight something he had nothing to do with. Damn these people! When was the last time he had managed to put a value on his own assets? As the night wore long, he thought of stepping down due to old age and health reasons. “Let them get a younger guy. Make Rahul Gandhi the PM for all I care! Leave me in peace with my numbers”, he thought. Until by the time he decided to act on it, he was beaten to that reason by the Pope. “Oh lord these Italians! (Conveniently forgetting the fact that the Pope was actually German, but hey he lives and works in Rome. Practically Italian.) One of them listened to her inner voice and left me holding the can. The other just beat me to the best excuse I had ever dreamed up! That does it! What this country needs, is a big, healthy, fat dose of Kim Jong un!”

Not that the Supreme Leader is having everything his own way. A low grade earthquake in his country was apparently a result of his clandestine attempt at losing some weight by attempting to do the Gangnam Style moves in the middle of the night. He was able to explain it away as yet another ‘underground nuclear test’ conducted by his country, but his explanations are starting to run a bit thin now. After explaining away his first attempt as a rocket launch and the second as a nuclear test, there are only so many times he can give similar reasons to distract from his real motives. Maybe he can talk to Pakistan and figure out how they get away with infiltrations and cease fire violations on the border, giving the same ‘Who me? No way that was me!’ response every single time.

Speaking of Pakistan, someone has finally decided to play cricket with them. No it wasn’t India. The South Africans agreed to showcase and train the Pakistanis in their finely honed choking talents on the cricket field. True to form, the Pakistanis unveiled another mysterious fast bowler picked up from the backwaters of the country. What is so mysterious about Mohammad Irfan is that on Cricinfo, he has been described as the tallest cricketer ever and ‘the PCB has variously measured him at 6'8", 6'10" and 7'1"’. No he isn’t in his growing stage. The guy is 30 years old for heaven’s sake! How difficult is to measure someone’s height if he hasn’t grown in the last 12 years? Though in that same vein I ask, how difficult is to determine Shahid Afridi’s actual age? The guy seems to have a younger age reported every year I read about him. Going by that analogy, I can say with some surety that Irfan will probably be measured at about 9'10" by the time he ends his career. Safely giving the title of the tallest cricketer ever to Pakistan. Why can't they just get up on a step ladder and put a scale on his head?

Sigh! Expecting people in three countries to get their reasons and excuses straight. I would have a better chance of success, if I wanted to see Mallika Sherawat fully covered up for a movie role.



You have got to be kidding me! Now bring on the excuses!

Too much snow? Make a bigger snowman!

A cloudy Groundhog Day greeted us last week. Hurrah! End of winter. Spring is around the corner! Staying in a picturesque place, I started dreaming about the trees filling out again, nice smelling flowers blooming out and drives becoming more color filled.

But then trying to trust the weather to be consistent, is like leaving John Terry near anything in a skirt and expecting nothing to happen. So just a short week after promising the end of winter, comes the biggest snowfall of the winter. “UPTO 3 FEET OF SNOW PREDICTED OVER THE WEEKEND” screamed headlines. As if the headlines weren’t enough, out went reporters in oversized bulky jackets, caps and gloves and interviewed every man and his dog, coining the term ‘thundersnow’ in the process. Stock up on food! Stock up on gas! Stock up on drinks! States are in lockdown. Flights are cancelled. Schedules have been thrown into chaos. Superstorm after superstorm. All I need now is Donald Trump and his shimmering halo hair filling up my TV screen promising to give 5 million dollars to a local charity if President Obama keeps the snow from interfering with the latest episode of Celebrity Apprentice. Probably the Mayans were right after all, just a few weeks off?

Except, it is still winter. And this is Michigan after all. A place which can receive upto 25 feet of snow during the winter. 3 feet of snow? Big deal, we’ll just get our cameras out and make a postcard of the sight. Get the shovels out. Clear the driveways and head out to work. No impending doomsdays. No fuss. As one politico, who quite obviously forgot his script, put it, “Stay at home, relax and read a good book.” And that quite really, is it. Why all the fuss because winter suddenly decided to behave like winter? Of course, in places not quite used to the winter, this is a big deal. Kick up an almighty fuss in places where people have grown up with blizzards and snowstorms and you will be greeted with incredulous looks. No amount of cold is too cold. No amount of snow is too much.

As a once famous British poster, now popularized by endless memes goes, KEEP CALM AND KEEP BUILDING SNOWMEN.