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Bull's Eye

It was early dawn when prime minister Vajpayee stepped onthe lawn of his house for his morning walk. At this hour the poet in him was mostinspired. ...

It was early dawn when prime minister Vajpayee stepped onthe lawn of his house for his morning walk. At this hour the poet in him was mostinspired. He sighed as he thought of all the problems troubling his government. He hopedpeople had forgotten the Bihar fiasco. The president was right of course...

Breakdowns which are institutional Do not make crisisconstitutional—Rabri is a lucky dame, Despite a government quite lame...!

The PM wiped the sweat from his brow. The cabinet expansionbusiness had been a narrow shave. A faint frown creased his forehead. What was wrong withhis allies...?

His allies were quite problematic,
Not knowing simple arithmetic,
How could he provide chairs
For all the hopefuls taking airs...?
Jaya of course was the worst. He blamed her most of all...
If one bad apple spoils the rest,
A single Jaya ruins the best,
Let alone Mamata or Ram—
Now even Badal twists my arm!...

Thank God all the silly clots clamouring for berths in thecabinet had been silenced till next year. And after that? The PM smiled grimly. Acaretaker prime minister faced no pressure to expand the cabinet! He wondered if themidterm poll would be in March or April. March was more pleasant, but April gave him anextra month. It was nice of Clinton to postpone his visit. Would Clinton survive? Not thatit mattered...

Bill or Newt or Al,
 No one is your pal,
Foreign affairs is a jungle,
At every step a bungle!...

The PM wondered how long his governmentwould last after the Delhi government fell. On the other hand would Sushma, could Sushma,actually win...?
I admit we weren't too clever,
But better late than never!
We couldn't deliver Ram Raj,
But we did deliver Sushma Swaraj!

The PM sighed. He walked towards the verandah. It was timeto help Sushma. Time to deal with the business at hand...

Stop smiling, end the mirth,
Time to get down to earth,
Time to rest your aching bunions,
To wrestle with the price of onions...

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