Subject – To Report Abuse
Long time no see, no hear, no speak – I hope you are not trying to be Manmohan Singh!
On a serious note, I am writing to you to express outrage against centuries of abuse I have suffered in the hands of your greatest creation, mankind. Generation after generation has engaged in vilifying my “good name” for absolutely no fault of mine. I am but just a shade minding my own business but now spend most of my time howling in agony like a hungry hyena at the unfairness of it all. Could you please ask your assistant to hunt for the devil who initiated this ugly campaign against me?
My name is being exploited to describe all things evil and undesirable. I mean, there are so many others they could have picked. Why just me! I have become a slur to my own name. I wish I could drown and melt into nothingness.
Guess what, it has become even worse. A hirsute Baba, with a wink deadlier than Diggy’s conspiracy theories is spearheading a kranti that has taken away my shanti. He’s associating my name with ill-gotten wealth stashed away in Islands with difficult to spell names. A collaboration that has earned me nothing but disrepute. I concede that he is simply using me to endear himself to a nation with an attention span of a 3 year old, but did it really have to be me?
I think I will sue that man and live sadly ever after, drinking lauki juice on his island in Scotland.
As if it wasn’t bad enough to be associated with cats that bring bad luck...sheep with a villainous character... a day that’s tragic... a heart that’s devious....a skin that will relegate a girl to a lifetime of misery.... a colour that’s racist! As if there were no colours to choose from! Tell me, what’s wrong with the “red sheep of the family”, a “blue cat crossing your path”, “a mauve heart”. Yet it had to be blackmail, black-money, black guard, black-eye...a face blackened to shame...Uff!
I suspect mankind is colour blind.
My sob story doesn’t end here. After watching White hog all the limelight for centuries, I now have to put up with the agony of Grey being celebrated as the next-superstar! The very name “fifty shades of grey” is turning women into a red faced, panting, and giggly mass of gloop. What does grey have that I don’t?
But I must thank these women for turning me into a style statement, using me to flaunt their curves and hide flab. The superstar, who prefers me to be picture perfect on the red carpet. The girl who lines her eyes to appear mysterious. The coffee that keeps his adrenalin pumping.
But I refuse to be placated with these small consolations. I want you wave your iWand and make this politics of colour disappear into thin air. I’ve had enough of me, sitting on the Opposition benches, feeling like L.K Advani. My life feels like a grid failure with no hopes of recovery.
God, give me hope, show me light and make life fair for me.
Waiting for Glory
P.S – can you please send cartons of Fair & Lovely to Baba Crusader? After all, all he needs to do is slather those notes with the lotion, to make them legal and white.