Happy New Year: Mumbai just got its dream city planner
In the run-up to welcoming another new year, I stood in line, all night in the bitter cold of December. I had for company others who wanted to apply for the residence permits of their favourite cities, a loony tune in my head and the image of the girl I saw in a line in November 2016. Since Ayesha Bee, aka, Hey-Ma Malign-Me, the dream girl city planner, decided to cap the populations of urban conurbations to protect people from natural calamities, demonetisation and other fan-made disastrous films like Rum Bhopal Burma’s Bog, there has been a scramble for getting a residence permit for various sought-after cities. People stood in serpentine lines, just like they did last winter, in November of 2016. I hoped to get my residence permit, under the RAC or Tatkal quota, and so stood patiently in the queue. This government loves order. It loves lines. It loves lies.
Despite never having fallen in love, I am a hopeless romantic. Discarding the astrologer’s horror of not finding a love line on my palm, I got ready to find my love in the line. Telepathy tells me it will be an adorable meet-cute in a long serpentine line. And so, my benevolent supreme leader of Pulkistan ensures that we stand in long disciplined lines each winter. When we stand out in the cold, for our own money or residence permits, it becomes easy to find love. I’ll know it’s her when I stand shivering in the winter breeze and suddenly feel some warmth permeate in my heart. There have been so many meet-cutes in the lines created by Megalo-56, the supreme leader of Pulkistan, who he is held in high esteem by those madly in love.
Megalo-56 is easy to identify. He sports a pair of scissors around his neck. Yup, he’s got a pair. It comes handy when he has to snip any ribbon he sees. He rues often that the previous governments only created infrastructure, but never informed the simpleton citizens of Pulkistan. Since they did nothing for 70 years, Megalo-56 has been working hard for the past three years to snip the ribbons of their projects. Sometimes he cuts the same ribbon twice and sometimes he goes to the neighbouring enemy land to cut other people’s birthday cakes and make them cry. Megalo-56 is so brave! I am sure he will share with me a few crumbs to celebrate my moment of love in the line, when I spot her.
I held a place for her in the line. We do things differently in Pulkistan. While in other lands people hold places for their better halves in their hearts, in Pulkistan, we hold places for them in lines. Other countries try to develop, but forget their culture. Our supreme leader, Megalo-56 ensures we never forget the revered cow and move towards it. So, while other lands move forward, Megalo-56 has made Pulkistan go cow-ward. In other lands, people fall in love. In Pulkistan, we fall in line. I told you, we’re going cow-ward ????
And then just before the crack of dawn, I saw her silhouette against the flashes of cameras that were covering Megalo-56 who came to cut the ribbon of a local tea shop. Chinese tea it was and like most things Chinese, neither the shop nor the government worked. Nevertheless, the air was filled with chants of “Megalo-Megalo-Megalo-Megalo”. As the megalomaniacs established a rhythm, Megalo-56 acknowledged them and said, “May the farce be with you.”
Just as the excitement was going to settle down, madam Hey-Ma Malign-Me opened the gates of the Dream Girl City. There was a near stampede and one of the megalomaniacs began misbehaving with women. He abused them, tolled them taking advantage of being anonymous in a mob and attempted to run away. The brave Megalo-56 got excited, dropped the pair of scissors, abandoned the ribbon and took to his feet. He followed the troll. I didn’t want to be distracted by any of the melee and made a dash towards the gates of the city. But just as I reached, the gates closed, and I was left out in the cold. There was no line. It was reminiscent of the chaos of November 2016.
In that dark moment, before dawn, I saw her yawn. The silhouette now had a face. Megalo-56 was right. A strange warmth permeated in my heart. I heard the cuckoo sing. A guitar strummed in my head and there was percussion in my heart. A crescendo built up as I approached her.
“I can hear music. You must be Sangeetha?”
“They closed the city. Where do we go now? Will Megalo-56 and Mailgn-Me GSPC us?” she said a little worried.
“GSPC?” I asked.
“Gas Some for Population Control. Remember, Megalo-56 and his ilk revere the great dictator…,” she replied.
“Don’t worry, I know how to resist GSPC. We’ll move to the new city where people overcome GSPC.”
“Which city is that?” She asked.
“Audacity”.
“Let’s look forward to 2018 and to see what Megalo-56 has lined up for us”, she said.
And so, we locked hands and are no more cow-ward bound. We proceed towards Audacity. Cowabunga!