Wednesday, November 18, 2009

The Rise and Fall of Phyan

SURPRISED WILL be too simple a word to describe the mood of Myanmar-born Phyan when she received an invitation from Qui Than early November to visit the Indian coast on a vacation.

The fallen cherry (Phyan in Burmese), wanted to let her hair down and whirl around like coils of a snake, lash at hard surfaces at a wind-speed of 103 kmph and do a tango with Qui Than. She reached Arabian Sea clandestinely from her country, ruled by a star-gazer turned junta, with lots of hopes and aspirations.

The last time, a distant relative of hers visited this part of the world was in 1966.

"1966 is not just a number. It's history in a nutshell," Phyan told Swaravahini's television crew in exclusivity. Qui Than noticed Swaravahini's absence. "Big Daddy from the U.S. visited Paa that dreadful year," Phyan stated.

Though Qui Than had kept her visit a secret, overzealous babus at Met Department sensed an opportunity and issued a warning. Qui Than ignored it with the contempt it deserved.

He made elaborate arrangements to receive her: Unwanted onlookers were evacuated; pumps were kept ready to tide over any shortage of water; and Naval Band was kept on high alert.

But Phyan, in her early teens, had the fright of her life when she moved towards Mumbai coast.

A beaming Raj declared: "13 is not an unlucky number."

At the thought of a backlash from Marathi Manoos, Phyan shuddered.

She exhibited symptoms of Hutchinson–Gilford progeria syndrome -- the Amitabh variety. But Paa's wife refused to carry her on shoulders.

She decided to move towards Kerala. Mayamohini, Qui Than's vacation guide, was not pleased at the turn of events. She said: "Don't think Surprise Babies (Abdulla Kutty in Malayalam) can take elephants in the State for a ride."

Pleased at the interlude, Swaravahini said: "Caparisoned elephants can't be used to pull dead wood."

The untimely and improper use of the E-word annoyed Mayavati, the sole proprietor of elephant grazing in the cow belt.

"Don't ever think of pulling an elephant by its legs," she said. And clenching her fist with her forefinger and middle finger protruding, she shouted: "Statue." Adam, Madam and everyone froze.

Phyan lost her way.

She scrambled for her next option -- Gujarati asmita.

The bed-ridden Modi, was immediately declared physically fit and in a combative mood but not ready to take the mantle from his party's national president.

Chorus: "Oranges grown in Nagpur have a special flavour this season."

Phyan groaned under pressure. Even if Suu Kyi is arrested outside her house, Paa has scheduled the next coup for 2011.

Stupefied, even the babus at the Met Department lost track of their own directives.

Phyan had no other alternative but to get into Bay of Bengal for an escape route.

"Not above my head," declared Mamata. "Nothing can match the Duranto," (the express she travels in nowadays to harvest two-leaves from red fields) she added and laughed merrily glancing at the Mahakaran built by writers in Bengal.

Sandwiched between Junta and India, Phyan's time was running out as 24X7s have already posted her status as: Fizzled out.

Across the Atlantic, Obama was closely monitoring the events as they unfolded. In an address to a joint session of Congress, he said: "This isn't about politics. This is about people's lives. This is about people's businesses. This is about our future."

And after 12 hours of bitter debate the House of Representatives passed a Bill amounting to a 10-year, trillion dollar plan to extend health coverage to 36 million Americans who lack it now.

Later, Big Daddy flew to Singapore to meet Phyan's Paa.

Phyan was awestruck.

And she roared: Meow.

Reality struck Qui Than. Even his Blue Cloud couldn't compute the turn of events.

But sitting under a coconut tree, one sunny afternoon, Koran, who cloned Qui Than, smiled, for he is not supposed to do anything else.

(To be continued)

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