Moving the Inflation Goalpost

The economists rested in Heaven,

For the economy began to leaven, 

"Inflation at year end, 

Six percent," we contend, 

Did they mean December 2011.

The Onionee

At ninety rupees onions are dear, 
Rupee's worthless, Reserve Bank fears 
"The onion you see 
Is the new currency,"  
Says the Bank's Governor in tears. 

Oligarchs Unlimited

India's ravaged by oligarchs, 

Politicos, corporations and sharks,

The country's being plundered,

But the media won't thunder,  

Political sponsors ensure it won't bark.

All India Radia

 

Lobbyist Radia's brief it was said,

Was to appoint Raja the Telecom head,

Oil, land, and gas,

Resources looted en masse,

By whom is this banana republic led?

The Black Gown and the Pigeon

Radia's black gown it seems was chic,

When phone calls to Tata were leaked, 

Her phone was encrypted,

But calls were transcripted,

Niira, please deploy a pigeon that speaks. 

Stash under my Bed

Lobbyist Radia allegedly swore 

Stalin's mother received 600 crores,*

The latter then said,

"It won't stash under my bed, 

Where can I get some more?"

Source: Outlook expose on the 2G Scam Tapes 

*1 crore = 10 million

India's Unique Inventions

Applying for anticipatory bail,

Is a stratagem that often doesn't fail, 

"An offer" to resign,

Feigning illness a sign

That you're desperate to stay out of jail.

Obama's Discovery of India

Greeting Congressmen, he wasn't naughty, 
Nor was Obama distant or haughty, 
Meeting Rahul, the middle-aged, 
Obama declared as a sage, 
"India's dynamic youth are all over forty."

Fight scams with more scams

The Congress High Command combats corruption, 

With renewed vigor and gumption, 

Probes are such a chore,

So we'll have scams by the score, 

To cheat the nation with supreme deception. 

Relationships Redefined

 

In Congress there's a new kinship equation,

For a mother-in-law is not a relation,

So logic dictates

That a wife's not a mate,

When Mammon* commands fervent adulation.

 *Riches; wealth; the god of riches

The Minor-League Courtiers

The Congress CMs were chosen to prostrate, 

Before the Monarch, The Almighty Potentate, 

Their minds Lilliputian, 

Appointed for diminution,

"They also serve who only stand and wait."

Inspired by  C.L. Manoj's column "Congress' Lilliputian satraps" in the Economic Times

The Medieval Maoist

A revolutionary on the make,
"Sickular" Roy has ideas to bake,
In a Maoist stew,
Stir a Taliban brew,
Is she dotty or a certified fruitcake?

Figures and The Figurehead

Food inflation's stubbornly high,

At sixteen percent figures don't lie,

The poor are dazed, 

The PM's unfazed, 

Because he's a figurehead, that's why.

Anarchy in the Assembly

 

The bribe was twenty five crores, 

To swim to the Congress' shore, 

So the MLAs* slugged, 

And behaved like thugs, 

In the Assembly, it was civil war.

*Members of the Legislative Assembly (Karnataka)

Terms of Endearment

If an Indian woman has you transfixed,
Don't kiss her say the Tourism hicks,
If you are really keen,
Find and kiss a beauty queen,
As for the rest, play safe, discuss politics! 
(Travel advisory to visitors to The Commonwealth Games)

Compliant Cringing Networks

Over Rahul, the media does drool,

Treating the public like twits and fools,

The sycophancy's crass,
On news channels en masse,

Perpetuating feudal rule.

CWG's Scam Stars

The beggars and workers have been whisked away,

Dumped with rubble before break of day,

Delhi must be bedecked, 

With scammers unchecked,

Like Kalmadi and Dixit on display.

The Delhi Adventure Games

At the roadside kerb, you stand dismayed,

Waiting for a passing VIP cavalcade,

There's a sudden shootout,

For terrorists lurk about,

Then a falling bridge knocks you dead in the shade.

Delhi's obstacle race

Delhi's citizens run an obstacle race,

Straddling rubble mounds at a quick pace,

Mosquitoes bite their guts,

Buffaloes kick their butts

And hurl them in the flood waters' embrace.

Nuking mosquitoes

Delhi's mosquitoes are adept at evasion, 

So the army's been deployed on this occasion,

Soon the navy will be hired, 

And the air force will fire 

Missiles to nuke the pestilential invasion.

The hazards of swimming

Swimmers failed the Games dope tests, 

Selectors will now choose the very best,

Jayalalitha may be rotund,

Mayawati will leave you stunned,

And the masses will succumb to cardiac arrest.

Breaking News: Militant Mosquitoes target Games

The Games' venues the athletes will throng,

Down with dengue they'll be before long,

With sneezes and coughs,

The stadium's roof will blow off,

They'll flee singing Rahman's lousy song.

Oh darling, I love your sweat equity

With his third wife, Tharoor looks pretty, 

Celebrating his wedding in four cities, 

With Sunanda in tow,

And a seventy crore glow,

"Oh darling, I love your sweat equity."

Weapons of mass infection

After CWG's venues were ordained,
Mosquitoes multiplied in every pool and drain,
In multi-crore grounds,
Mosquitoes splash around,
Citizens be damned, let dengue fever reign.

The MPs' Money Mantra

Voter, can you spare me a crore,

Why do you create such a furor?

I'll keep you in chains, 

Why do you complain? 

I'll be back looting some more.

With apologies to "Brother, can you spare me a dime?" a 1931 song of the Great Depression.

Shoe Time

If you have smelly old shoes to spare,
Fling them at fools of Vanity Fair,
Don't hurl one but two, 
'Coz you'll have to woo,
The politico with free footwear.

The middle class bribes to fuel progress

FIIs* favor the rich noblesse, 

NGOs nurture the dispossessed,

The middle class slaves away,

Long hours everyday,

And bribes to fuel India's progress.

Inspired by Professor Vaidyanathan's column in DNA: "Why economy is growing despite jholawalas and Wall Streeters"
*Foreign Institutional Investors

India is dimming, not shining

With 8% growth rate quotes,
Our policy wonks grin and gloat,
Eighty percent slave away,
On twenty rupees a day,
India's not shining, please take note.

Scams and swindles opportune

We won't have a helium balloon,

To herald the Games in full moon,

But we are enthralled,

With the daily roll call,

Of scams and swindles opportune.

Delhi's Fort Loo

Fortress Loo at Defence Colony Market

 


The MCD decided to push through,
An eatery above a loo,
But the residents raised a stink,
It's no place to eat or drink,
Welcome to Delhi's Waterloo.

The missing ministers

Spectrum Raja's hands are in the telecom till,
Mamata decamped to West Bengal seeking thrills,
DMK's Alagiri doesn't care,
The Prime Minister despairs,
"It's not my brief, it's Sonia's will."

The Ten Lakh Treadmill

If you wish to dupe the exchequer by stealth,
Or amass a share of the nation's wealth,
Send Kalmadi an inflated bill,
Amass 10 lakhs leasing a treadmill, 
You'll augment the politicos' collective health.

Congress Wealth Gains

Are the Commonwealth Games a chaotic fat wedding, 

A shambolic affair towards which we're heading, 

The taxpayers have been fleeced, 

So politicos palms can be greased,

A gargantuan scam, that's what we're dreading.

The UnCommon Wealth Games

Delhi's citizens are enraged, 

The sportsmen are disengaged, 

The Games costs have ballooned, 

To enrich the nation's goons, 

'Tis for political leaders, the Games are staged.

Is the Foreign Minister a cream puff?

In the Indo-Pak talks SM Krishna wasn't tough, 

Not hawkish, not aggressive, nor rough,

He wasn't well-prepared, 

Wily Qureshi had him ensnared, 

Is he a Foreign Minister or a cream puff?

The Deaf Politician

If you have the gall and gumption,
To whine about corruption, 
You'll be treated with disdain,
So you'd be wise to refrain,
For politicos are deaf, never forget that basic assumption.

Stop whining about the fuel price hike

"The fuel price rise," the PM explains, 

"Will reduce the budget deficit, so don't complain,

The price hikes are a bitter pill, 

You paupers have to pay the bill, 

Stop whining, and drink some champagne."

Prayer: the inflation slayer

Inflation's causing citizens to despair,

Policy wonks claim it's a short-lived affair;

As prices rise, 

The PM beseeches the skies,

Hopes ride on the wings of a prayer.

Where's the Prime Minister?

Where's the PM, ask his detractors? 

Is he Sonia's stooge, or a consummate actor, 

He addresses science conventions, 

Travels overseas to alleviate tensions, 

Of heading a government swarming with malefactors.

Congress declares Rajiv Gandhi its patron saint

"Rajiv Gandhi never had a taint, 

To Citizen Morons we must acquaint, 

We worship idols,

Our sycophancy's unbridled, 

Towards Rajiv: our patron saint."

None wept when Bhopal died

In Bhopal, twenty thousand gassed and died, 

Justice delayed, the leaders inflate with pride,

Horrors even Bruegel could not have painted, 

Efforts are afoot to redeem the criminally tainted, 

With golden guineas, lawyers' egos are puffed,

While lives in gas chambers were summarily snuffed.

Political parties have a policy objective, 

Victims must endure, for justice is selective, 

The poor man's life is to be expended, 

The rich are nurtured, never apprehended; 

Politicos, judges revel in the macabre game, 

Passing the buck, shuffle the blame. 

Impervious to the images of ghastly death, 

Indifferent to the victim's last rasping breath,

Attorneys, politicians on Carbide's graveyard dance,

Absolve themselves of guilt's sharp lance,

Weak and impotent, more's the pity, 

The Prime Minister fiddles, forms a committee. 

Mega corporations, may your colonization never cease, 

Pillage and pollute what you can with ease, 

"Life's cheap," our leaders boast with glee,

"But in India we give it away for free,

We'll shield you from meddlers while you bide, 

Remember, none wept, when Bhopal died."

Capital punishment

There's no need to workout,

In the current heat bout,

The wind's on the boil, 

We sweat without toil, 

You'll shed kilos even if you're stout.

The heat wave's beginning to roast, 

Our bodies into toast, 

The neurons gather silt,

While our frames sag and wilt,

We'll keel over and give up the ghost.

The tantrum throwing dame

Mamata Banerji has a singular aim: 

Outmaneuver the Communists at their game,

The Railway ministry is inconsequential,

West Bengal has more potential,

To elect a tantrum throwing dame.

Jairam Ramesh's hurricane proof hairdo

When deriding his critics with disdain,

Jairam Ramesh flaunts his coiffured mane,

Thrice daily he blow dries, 

Using scarce power supplies, 

Environment Minister, shouldn't you refrain?

Euro's current worth

Greece has been on a debt binge,

The euro's got hammered and singed;

The German mark spurred the euro's birth,

Is the drachma euro's current worth? 

Ask investors extremely unhinged.

Braying for retrograde causes

Earlier this year, when Minister of Environment Jairam Ramesh supported the introduction of genetically modified BT Brinjal or aubergine, he was opposed by farmers' and environmental groups. During his recent visit to China, he accused the Indian government of being alarmist and paranoid about Chinese investments in India. 

Naveen Jindal, a businessman and MP, meanwhile is playing footsie with the khap panchayats, self-styled community representatives who dispense medieval justice in the villages of Haryana. 

These two worthies have hidden agendas and I have a limerick: 

  

Jairam Ramesh is seduced by Chinese swindles,

Khap groups have wooed Naveen Jindal:

Both loudly brayed,

For causes retrograde,

Let's force feed them toxic BT Brinjal.

Rackets and racketeers

Sporting heads have never wielded a racket,

Yet they've all stashed massive pay packets:

Racketeers to a man,

Mobsters of a clan,

They belong to top income tax brackets.

Fight terror with sixth sense

Delhi lives constantly under the threat of imminent terror attacks, so the Lieutenant Governor Tejendra Khanna advised the edgy, nervous residents of the capital to develop vigilance as a collective sixth sense. Translation: we the serfs are left to fend for ourselves.


Here's my riposte in verse to the Governor:

Be vigilant with your sixth sense,
Says Delhi's Governor who's quite dense,
Police will protect the elite
Not lumpen masses in the street,
We commoners now live in perennial suspense.

Big Brother learns to tap dance

Outlook magazine reported that the Indian intelligence services are keeping tabs on all kinds of electronic communication: landline calls, cellphone conversations, sms exchanges and chat. 

Big Brother, you've earned yourself a limerick:

It seems our phone lines are tapped

To plug the information gap,

Thousands are employed,

Ministers are overjoyed

Listening to unadulterated crap.

On your phone when you hear strange clicks,

Try some shrewd and canny tricks,

Chant a melodic Italian aria

Praise the Prince and Mama Sonia,

Who knows, you'll be chosen the Prince's sidekick.