India Uncut
This blog has moved to its own domain. Please visit IndiaUncut.com for the all-new India
Uncut and bookmark it. The new site has much more content and some new sections, and you can read about them here and here. You can subscribe to full RSS feeds of all the sections from here.
This blogspot site will no longer be updated, except in case of emergencies, if the main site suffers a prolonged outage. Thanks - Amit.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
India Uncut Ambition 1
I want to be a hooch inspector.
I should be India’s designated hooch inspector, and my job should be to go from city to city, town to town, and inspect hooch. And oh, to villages also, with pretty belles.
Like I could go to this small village and ask for the panchayat to convene. After it does, I could ask the sarpanch, “Excuse me, do you, like, have any hoooch here?”
And the sarpanch would say, “I’m a sarpanch. Please call me ‘Sir’.”
So I’d say, “Ok, excuse me, do you, like, have any hoooch here, sir?”
And the sarpanch would say, “No.”
Then I’d stride to a hut nearby, fling open the door, and reveal that the hut was full of hooch, wall to wall, ceiling to floor. The sarpanch would look at me sheepishly and blush.
“I see that you do have some hoooch here,” I would say. “But not to worry, send me some belles, and I’ll handle the matter.”
* * * * *
Three weeks later, 400 brass bells would land up at my home.
I should be India’s designated hooch inspector, and my job should be to go from city to city, town to town, and inspect hooch. And oh, to villages also, with pretty belles.
Like I could go to this small village and ask for the panchayat to convene. After it does, I could ask the sarpanch, “Excuse me, do you, like, have any hoooch here?”
And the sarpanch would say, “I’m a sarpanch. Please call me ‘Sir’.”
So I’d say, “Ok, excuse me, do you, like, have any hoooch here, sir?”
And the sarpanch would say, “No.”
Then I’d stride to a hut nearby, fling open the door, and reveal that the hut was full of hooch, wall to wall, ceiling to floor. The sarpanch would look at me sheepishly and blush.
“I see that you do have some hoooch here,” I would say. “But not to worry, send me some belles, and I’ll handle the matter.”
* * * * *
Three weeks later, 400 brass bells would land up at my home.
