At last, the world (mostly along and west-of the Prime Meridian, of course) broke out of that charming Buffalo Soldier's spell (hurray!! sorry... my deepest condolences to any sufferers in the erstwhile Kingdom of Rhodesia). Perspiration was the name of the gam(bl)e for several Gr8 'world' leaders (including the New-Matryoshka-On-The-Bloc(k?), who, we hear, was a little too smart for the Bush-man), as they sat around, across, behind (fill in as many prepositions as you can recollect, they did it all..) several (not necessarly round) tables under the fabled (yet conspicuously absent) cherry blossoms and doled out promises aplenty. For here at last the Bush-man decided it safe to say he'd stop smoking by 2050 (atleast he won't be the Bush-man he is by then), though he still failed to impress Nobel winning watchdogs or blood-thirsty Congressmen or even, for that matter, corn deprived cattle. Adding to his woes was Oliver Stone's camera-shy (erstwhile) muse, who found it quite amusing to celebrate bonfire night (or Diwali or any such festivity...) early. Back home (the Bush-lands..) the Buffalo Soldier (the other one) decided it was time to speak out against- well, against anyone who the public love to see trashed, really- so populating the list were omnipresent (yeah,) turban-ed men, Uncle Sam's foreign policies, Reverend Whathisnames- you get the point..(in case you don't, can he trash it? Yes He Can..) All this while the White Elephant found himself back in the keep-distance-from books of the Grand Hollywood Widow(the GRAND old one..). The other turbaned man (the one closer home..) realised it was time to go back to Julie Andrews' old musicals as D-Day loomed large. The Pehelwan's presence only resulted in the unholy alliance of the Left and the Right to knock off the Centre, even as the venerable Speaker (who, a la Basanti, well, you know what I mean..) made it clear that he felt Left behind in all this drama. Princely ducklings came under fire for early celebrations, the 'Terrorist' reminded the English of the pangs of 7/11 (kidding..), former Swedish Stock market wonders hit cold silver screens, while Knights waited in the shadows... a week, in short of (mostly) false starts and wild promises.
ps: they're here at last, July 14 not just Bastille Day and our (mine and my twin sister's...) birthday henceforth...
pps: a smelly digital library inspires only this much, promise you better posts... until next time....
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