Desi Punch, Italian Judy

A DEMO SCRIPT FOR A DOCU-FARCE SET IN PARLIAMENT...

On our cable TV screens, the hottest things were supposed to be the Indian remakes of foreign serials and sitcoms. We would still reserve judgement on Zee’s Jeena Isi Ka Naam Hai (originally the Beeb’s This is Your Life). But somehow none of the others has clicked. From Jee Mantriji (Yes, Minister) to Kamzor Kadi Kaun? (The Weakest Link), copycat serials and sitcoms have bitten the dust.

The fault, let me suggest, lies not so much in their themes or the formidable stars (Farooq Shaikh, Neena Gupta, et al) who present them but in the very conspicuous lack of originality on the part of our creative classes. If only, instead of lifting directly from foreign programmes, they had combed their own backyards for original ideas, they would certainly have done better.

Take, for example, India’s longest running political slapstick, a show which we would simply call ‘Desi Punch, Italian Judy’ (or DPIJ for short). Think of the possibilities were it to be translated into a comedy series. Just to sample its potential, here is demo script — although I’m sure almost anybody who had watched the original tu tu, main main exchanges in Parliament and at the recent CII convention, can do better:

She: Unka mansik santulan bigad gaya hai. Ghutnon ka santulan to Dr Ranawat ne theek kiya. Lekin yeh bheja ab kaun sambhalega. At this rate the country is doomed. I mean, the rest of the country minus the 14 states under my chief ministers, that is.

He: Dekhiye, aisa bolna aapko shobha nahin deta. Also, please clarify which country is doomed — yours or mine?

She: How dare you raise irrelevant questions like these? I thought we set the nationality question at rest a long time ago. In any case, Sharad Pawar who first raised the issue is presently my partner in Maharashtra. And Sangma, who shouted the loudest, is in the wilderness.

So you stop talking about where I came from and I will stop reminding you about where you and your family are heading.

He: Now, now. That’s getting a bit personal. My family is my affair. And nobody ever raised a question about my personal integrity, credibility, or whatever. My public life of 50 years is an open book.

She: Open book, is it? Well, anybody who has read it knows that it has a very sad ending. That is the reason, perhaps, that even businessmen no longer trust you. Remember, it’s me they invited to open the CII convention, not you! By the way, did you notice how Rahul Bajaj gave me a standing ovation — and this after you gave him, God knows, how many hundred per cent duties on automobile imports?

If this doesn’t convince you the winds of change are blowing you need to go out for a long walk and smell the air. But that may be too much of an exertion for you, wouldn’t it?

He: How dare you raise questions about my physical fitness. Ask Nawaz Sharif. Did I give in at Kargil? Ask President Lincoln if I gave in to his pressure. Ask Churchill, if I’ve ever looked like a weakling to him. Of course, you must ask me nothing about what I routinely do to Yashwant Sinha and his budgets, or why I keep swallowing so much abuse and humiliation from the VHP. But these are our internal, parivar matters. What would you know, anyway, about Indian family values? All you can do is count your chickens before they’ve hatched. Keep counting. You will never get to 272!

She: Now, you are really lowering the dignity of the House by trivialising this debate. Is this a bird sanctuary? Or a poultry farm? Kindly desist or I may be constrained to order Mani Shankar Aiyar to move a privilege motion.

He: Mani can keep his motions to himself. I did not become prime minister at your sufferance. I am here in spite of you. By the way — as some people have pointed out — it seems I have a great deal to thank you for. Have you heard about the SITA factor?

She: Now, that’s a new one! I thought we were only to worry about the Ram factor.

He: Well, resident psephologists at the Deendayal Upadhyaya Institute tell me just as your husband and mother-in-law were kept in power by the TINA (There Is No Alternative) factor, my coalition prospers because of the SITA (Sonia Is The Alternative) factor.

Ask Chandrababu Naidu who gets nightmares over what might happen in the polls the next time round and you were to get closer to power at the Centre. And who knows better than Babu how a bird in hand is better than two in the bush?

She: That same silly bird-talk again? Don’t you have a maturity commensurate with your years? Or will you continue to be submissive and weak and so utterly incapable of upholding the dignity of your high office? Your moment of reckoning has long come — and even gone. You really should look for a new, post-retirement career now. May I suggest bird-watching?

He: Now that you say so, I really need to be grateful to George Fernandes for his hawk eye. I didn’t even notice it, but he caught you chewing gum, of all things. How does that enhance the dignity of the House or the high office you hold as leader of the Opposition? Chewing gum in the House? Paan, khaini, tobacco, we can understand. These are familiar to any Indian. But gum? What will you do next? Bring in a bottle of Coke or Pepsi with a pizza thrown in? Perhaps, commercial breaks could be introduced, with MPs being sponsored by corporate houses? God forbid a day should come when the speaker decides on a vote by counting company logos. Just imagine how many may turn up wearing the Reliance logo, or that of the Tatas, or what if Pramod lands up sporting the colours of Jet Airways — just when the intelligence bureau is getting to the bottom of its chairman’s links with Arab sheikhs. Or Mallya started dispensing his Kingfisher mineral water, or whatever. Ma’am, we cannot let the dignity of the House slip like this, or there will be no end to this. Chewing gum. Chewing gum, I ask you! I was in Singapore last month. They whip you there for chewing gum in public!

She: First of all, let me get this clear. I only chewed the gum, I did not swallow...

He: That sounds so much like President Lincoln...didn’t he say he had smoked marijuana but never inhaled?

She: Lincoln? Now what bird is that? You seem really desperate to have the last bird in this argument...

He (wagging his finger): I don’t get pressured like this...my 50 years...

She (eyebrow raised): Grow up, grow up. I may be a videshi but at least acknowledge I am not a gungi gudiya as George Fernandes’ guru, Ram Manohar Lohia, called my mom-in-law...

(As reported in the next morning’s newspapers, ‘‘pandemonium prevailed’’ after this exchange and it needed several rounds of meetings in the Speaker’s chamber for the House to be reconvened. This, after all parties unanimously agreed to allow the chewing of gum, khaini, zarda, tobacco and paan in the House.

In fact, the India Tourism Destruction Corporation has been asked to set up a stall in Central Hall supplying these products at subsidised rates.)

On a more serious note though, I finally heard the prime minister’s Goa speech and one has to concede that he has a right to complain over the way most of the media reported it and what are now popularly believed to be his sweeping remarks against all Muslims.

He did use the expression ‘‘wherever Muslims live...there is discord... etc’’. But if you heard the passage in its entirety, he was talking of militant Muslims. The offending sentence flowed from the main argument and his not qualifying the Muslims he was talking about once again as the jehadi/militant types. This was, at best, a sin of absent-mindedness. Though one might still question the prudence of raising the issue of militant Islam while Gujarat was still burning, and where more than 90 per cent of the victims were Muslim, you have to accept that on this particular remark Vajpayee had been condemned unfairly. You can hear the full, live audio of the speech at www.goabjp.com

The writer can be reached at sg@expressindia.com

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