Keep it secret
“Keep it secret.”
“Shhh! Keep it top secret.”
Secrets are the best paradox especially in India with nosy relatives, poking neighbours. Things get too difficult when it is politics; everybody seems to have rabbit ears.
The rumour somersaulted to fly at a supersonic speed. Suddenly, the passengers at the bus stand were discussing it. The man in the evening club who was thought to be dumb was whispering like a duck funnelling his hands. IT HAD TO BE KEPT A SECRET! The opposition party leaders were bungee jumping with delight. It was their ticket. Even the sky seemed to boomerang the news through hushed showers and splendid thunders. Everybody was curious and curiosity isn’t a sin, is it?
The chief minister of the state was perplexed after reading the report of the special branch.
“Who disclosed the news?”
“ Sorry sir, I told the officers to keep the astrologer’s reading a complete secret. They don’t know about Nostradaum’s prophecy though. But the newspapers are feasting on the loose thread of the carpet.”The PA retorted.
“By the way,do Nostradaum’s predictions come true?”
The CM had a saintly vibe to him but his right eye was a radar for bad omens. It was continuously flicking. The CM held it lest it might enrage the Mahila Mukti Morcha members sitting just outside the door.
“Yes, sir. 100%. He predicted the rise of Hitler in Germany, second World war. Moreover, the death of Indira Gandhi also matched his notorious prediction.”
The PA feverishly checked his notes to continue blabbing.
The C. M again read the prediction word by word.
In South East Asia, the P.M of a populous country in 21st century will be the most powerful person in the world. The CM of a coastal state in that country will GO MAD after his 5th term in power.
“O my God! Will it come true?”
He felt restless and winked again. Despite it being an A.C room, he felt suffocated.
‘LEAVE ME ALONE FOR AWHILE.’
Solitude brings deep thought. While sipping coffee all alone, he rewinded his rule for the consecutive 5 terms. He had been internationally awarded as the best administrator. The reel played, he looked mad.
“You are our Raja Harischandra”, said a tribal woman during his visit to Kathipooram village.
“Our chief minister has turned the state into Ramrajya.’
“If any anyone can break the record of Karna, the great giver, he is our benevolent chief minister.”
People love to be loved and he loved his people.
‘How could Nostradaum’s prediction come true?’
“Only two things a man can’t hide; that he is drunk and that he is mad.”
The more he thought, the more uneasy he felt. He had to fight that idiotic jinx whole night sleeplessly. In the morning, he looked more lost than ever.
Something had to be done.
Soon the PA was ringing the best specialist in the US. CM’s condition deteriorated further with stress and jetlag.
“let us discuss everything in detail. Tell me what happened at the beginning. “ Said the Psychiatrist.
“In…the.. beginning.. God created Heaven and Earth…….. “
The CM was lost in thoughts. What about his image? He was too over possessive of himself.
Though the doctor managed to supress his laughter feigning a sneeze, the naughty nurse ridiculously circulated the condition of the patient.
“This Indian VIP is really mad.”
The doctor prescribed some medicine. He was suggested music therapy next.
The music had already been started by opposition parties in the state. Some said he had an unknown disease, some said he suffered a heart attack, some also remarked he had gone mad. They knew well that opportunities pass like clouds. The whole state fell silent like birds do with the advent of rains. The admirers prayed and shed tears that evaporated on the blisters proclaimed by the paparazzi.
The music therapy seemed effective with Sweet melodious music relieving him. His pale face beamed, heart lightened, but at the end of music session Nostradamus’s prophecy used to start ringing. He looked madder.
“This music therapy won’t work.”
“If music therapy fails, we must apply our final weapon. Dance therapy works wonders.” said the doctor consoling the CM.
Beauties appeared. Their voluptuous figures, shining eyes, heart winning smiles enthralled him. He loved the Monroe lookalikes too much. What a relief! Everything vanished from his mind. Day by day he felt better and in a month’s time he looked perfect. He could dance stepping and stooping with dancers. What he liked most was the ball dance.
The chief minister’s return was a great relief for the public though a great headache for the opposition.
To silence the opposition parties, win over the public support and counter the ominous prophecy, the CM ordered various schemes to meet the demands of every section of the people, particularly the farmers. He had to have a land slide victory this time.
The chief minister was extremely happy to see the large gathering. He started his speech in the regional language transliterated in English. Applause showered for ten minutes. But soon the public sighed and was irritated to listen further. The PA wanted to whisper to the CM. Disregarding it, he kept on declaring new schemes with a grinning face. Non stop speech. The public started making a hue and cry.
Mad! Mad! Mad!
“Why uproar? The public doesn’t seem happy. What a rough speech!”
“Sorry sir, I had mistakably kept three copies of the same speech. You….read.. all of them.” Said the PA bowing his head.
“IDIOT! YOU,THE DESCENDANT OF NOSTRADAUMS,SPOILED EVERYTHING. GET LOST!”
That late evening a man handed a brief case to the PA in his residence with a short note. “ Great job! Dearest Mirjafar, the king is going to be dethroned, your sum as promised. The ministerial post awaits you.”
History repeats itself!
He smiled with satisfaction.
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