Natwar: Well, consequent to that, in 1953, I was recruited by the state into its prestigious Indian Foreign Service. In the course of my reasonably successful career (and I employ the term ‘reasonably’ for reasons of modesty), I had occasion to meet with the mightiest on earth.

Cosmic Master: How interesting.

Natwar: My obvious polish and patent abilities in the arena of foreign policy (even if I say so myself) attracted the attention of the Indian political leadership, more specifically Indira and Rajiv Gandhi. I then proceeded to serve them with all the energy and talent (I may add) at my command.

Cosmic Master:Here we do not recognise earthly authority, Mr Singh.

Natwar: That is your prerogative, but let me inform you that, down there, not a leaf stirs in the Congress party without the express permission of its president.

Cosmic Master (with a half-smile): And all this while I believed that we were the truly omnipotent force for humanity. Let that pass. Carry on. Do you believe that you did no wrong while on earth?

Natwar: None whatsoever, as far as my memory serves me.

Cosmic Master (somewhat sternly): What then is that rattling sound I hear?

Natwar Singh (looking down and noticing for the first time a string of oil barrels attached to his right foot. He tried to shake it off, but it remained there making a dreadful ruckus): God, must have slipped my mind. There was this small matter of an oil-for-food scam, but that was a frame-up.

... contd.