Blasphemous question in a country where cricket is religion!
I wasn’t irritated because my elder son Hrik, 8, has no interest in cricket; he’d rather watch Chhota Bheem play bat-ball than see the Tendulkars in action. The timing of his question – I was engrossed in the Suroor story unfolding on TV – annoyed me.
Suroor (fusion of Sunanda Pushkar and Shashi Tharoor), we are told, are the hottest twosome after Brangelina and Saifreena.
“Tharoor… Tharoor-20,” I barked. Hrik cringed, apparently taken aback by my outburst.
A millisecond later, my friend Nadar Hussain called. “Just to remind you about the next campaign,” he said.
It wasn’t exactly a campaign. Nadar, a wholesaler of precious gems, tries to add value to the bills/reminders for clients with puns and satires or light-hearted messages. I provide him the lines.
His reminder made me feel guilty. I shouldn’t have been rude to my son who inadvertently gave me the new lines for Nadar’s wacky bills.
T(haroor)-20: Cricket, MODIfied.
That, I felt, fairly summed up why Itne Paise Lutaye jaate hain!
Cricket had come to my rescue earlier this year when Shahid Afridi bit the ball in Australia. Around the same time, Assam governor JB Patnaik and chief minister Tarun Gogoi cut a Republic Day cake designed like the Indian national flag.
The ‘campaign’ went: Cake khao, ball nahin!
Below a cartoon with the trio dancing was the line: Having a ball is a piece of cake!
Big B was lampooned too after his Paa released.
The take-off on him was: Amitabh Bachcha…
The line below a caricatured (original) Don rubbing off the ‘n’ in his name read: N-tertainment ke liye kuch bhi karega!
Thank god for cricket. And politicians. And Bollywood.