Shotgun Slogans

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The other day there was this piquant news item that the male Principal of a co-ed College was suspended for sexual harassment.

The girl student complained that he ordered her to unzip her pull-over in public (winter has been severe here too).

The Principal's defense was that he was just performing his duty to inspect if she was wearing her T- shirt ('under' her pull-'over') with any improper 'slogan' (or 'message').

Folks who have sinful minds may doubt his intentions, but I am of the firm opinion that the Prince just wanted to read a new and catchy 'T- shirt slogan', if any.

For, I too have this weakness for 'T-shirt slogans' and always read them, stopping the kid if it is a boy, and chasing her if it is a girl, till I complete reading the 'message', try to make sense of it, and posting it in my memory for recall if it happens to be witty,

If ever you read any news item that good-old gps has been lynched in Hyderabad, despite his gray hair and senile looks, you now know why.

I never could imagine that literary curiosity can land a Prince in jail.

But I find that these literary gems just vanish from my memory.

Only two survive: Nike's "Just do it!", followed in a few months by: "Just did it!".

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Slogans have been a potent weapon in rabble-rousing.

Indira Gandhi's MCP- Electoral Opponents foolishly (even I could see their folly) came up with the 'slogan': "Indira Hatao!" (Banish Indira!).

She (or her Election Brains...must be some IAS 'Ghost') came up with the counter-slogan: "Garibi Hatao!" (Banish Poverty!).

I was an audience at her squeaky election speeches: "O log bolte hain: Indira Hatao!; lekin mii bolti hoon: Garibi Hatao!".

That single slogan turned the tables.

Talking of Indira Gandhi I recall her famous father's Freedom at Midnight speech from the ramparts of the Red Fort (as they are always called...rampart is such an ugly word rhyming with campcot...the one my 'revenue department' gran'pa used to take with him on his junglie tours).

It had the immortal slogan: "Tryst with Destiny".

His Personal Assistant M. O. Mathai, later (after Nehru was safely cremated) claimed that the pretty 'slogan' was his invention, since Nehru was toying with the much poorer: 'Date with Destiny'; I guess only connoisseurs can feel the difference, if any, between 'tryst' and 'date' where the Partner involved is as charmless as 'Destiny'.

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I myself used to indulge in sloganeering whenever I had to 'politically' outsmart and outwit experimental colleagues at KGP.

I just used to ask them: "Did you use the Dirac Equation?"

Dirac Equation was their Silencer.

Later I progressed to: "Bilinear Covariants" in Grand Vivas to buy prestige cheap.

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Tail Piece:

This evening I was on my usual stroll to Chinthal Basthi made famous by my limerick:

When the heart is in susthi
And the mind needs masthi;
For a riot of colors
Sounds and flavors
Take a stroll in Chinthal Basthi!

I always carry my Shantiniketan sling bag gifted by KK.

(Talking of sling bags...the left-intelligentsia of Bengal in the 1970s came up with a trade-mark cotton sling bag that became the Open Sesame for the steel gates of the Writers Building...twice I had to enter the portals of this historic Fort that Didi is trying to batter with her rams and ewes).

I look for rare vegetables there in one or two shops that store them. One is the Bengal & Orissa special: 'Potal'. The other is: 'Chow-Chow' (alias: Benguluru Vankaya).

I found the latter in only one shop. There were just five pieces remaining. They are off-white, bland, but good for a 'change' and go well as fried curry with masala or into dal with imli.

As soon as the shopkeeper saw me, he started weighing the whole lot, I being a regular customer there.

A young and handsome couple arrived just then (Shopping Sunday for Softwarers); and the wife asked the shopkeeper what they are called, how to cook them, what they cost; and he was answering her.

She became all enthu and asked him to give her half a kilo.

The chap replied that all the five pieces are 'sold out' to me.

She looked at me wistfully; and I being the 17th incarnation of the chivalrous Sir Walter Raleigh as well as the 21st of Sir Philip Sidney of the "Thy need is more than mine" fame, at once proffered the poly-bag in my hand with its precious contents to her, saying:

"He will get them for me tomorrow".

She smiled and was about to advance her pretty hand when her hubristic hubby interposed his hairy arm, saying:

"No, no; we will buy tomorrow".

The MCP was imagining that I was trying to 'curry' his cute wife's favor....he will surely have an insipid dinner and its aftermath tonight...


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