This is the second of two limericks in the fourth installment of Rhyme and Reason, my weekly set of limericks for the Sunday Times of India edit page.
MACROCRUSH
An army of ladies stormed the RBI Gate
To meet Raghu, and set the record straight.
They said, ‘If you gotta go,
Then you oughta know
That you will never, ever lower our interest rate.’
This is the first of two limericks in the fourth installment of Rhyme and Reason, my weekly set of limericks for the Sunday Times of India edit page.
CORONATION
‘Mommy, Mommy, throw me a party,’
Said Pappu the Prince, all hale and hearty.
Mommy said, ‘Fine.
The Congress was mine.
Now it’s yours, my cute little smarty!’
JHAPPI DIN
Some people called the PM a thug.
Mr Modi replied with a shrug,
‘I’m not sophisticated,
It is true that I am hated,
But hey, I really like to hug!’
MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE
Hillary let off a joyous scream
She said, ‘This is such a dream.
That fellow Trump
Who I’m gonna thump
Behaves like he is on my team.’
This is the third installment of Rhyme and Reason, my weekly set of limericks for the Sunday Times of India edit page
FIGHTER
There was a man named Subramanian Swamy
Who was known to be kind of barmy.
PM Modi put him right.
He said, ‘I know you like to fight,
So why don’t you join the bloody army?’
HEY BHAGWAN
Subbu Swamy filed a case against God.
Subbu Swamy accused God of fraud.
Much thunder was heard.
God said, ‘How absurd!
Such chutzpah I really must applaud.’
Every Sunday, two of my limericks appear on the edit page of the Sunday Times of India. Here’s today’s installment.
QUIT INDIA
Once there was an airport named Gandhi
Where all flights were grounded in an aandhi.
So with a laugh and a cough,
The airport flew off,
Now all the pilots are sitting drinking brandy.
FLUSH
Once there was an internet troll
Who was pushed into a toilet bowl
By his dad, who decreed,
‘Having seen your twitter feed,
I hereby perform delayed birth control.’
Once there was a guy called Sandy
Who behaved all macho and randy,
But guys who flex their pecs
Usually have a complex:
He might well be an impotent dandy.
(Pic courtesy Veena Venugopal on Twitter.)
Mr Modi said, ‘I won’t allow
A sale of the public sector now.’
Well, I have to agree
With Mr Shourie:
Modi = Nehru + cow.
*
Vivek Kaul has a response to this that I agree with entirely.
And oh, I’ve written multiple times in the past that Modi is, in different ways, a legatee of Jawaharlal Nehru and Indira Gandhi. (I mean that as harsh criticism.) Those pieces:
The Fatal Conceit of the Indian Politician
Looking Beyond Left and Right
Lessons From 1975
Starting today, two of my limericks will appear every Sunday on the edit page of the Sunday Times of India. This is the first installment.
CULPABLE
Once there was a problem of water
Summer was hot and getting hotter
A politician explained,
‘Our hands are blood-stained.
Bad governance is equal to manslaughter.’
LITIGATION
Once a wrestler tried to move a building
Muscular Sushil grunting and pushing
When chastised,
He said, ‘I was advised
To move court, so that’s what I’m doing.’
The song below is to be sung to the tune of Billy Joel’s ‘Piano Man’. (Original lyrics here.) I started writing this at exactly 9am today, I swear!
TROLLER MAN
It’s 9am on a Saturday.
Regular tweeps shuffle in.
There’s an old troll sitting on my timeline
Spitting in his tonic and gin.
He says, ‘Slut, why you criticize policy?
I’m not really sure where that goes.
I’d pull you to the street, and I’d kick out your teeth,
but right now I’m not wearing clothes.’
La la la, di di da
La la, di da da da dum.
Sing us a song, you’re the Troller Man.
Sing us a song tonight.
We’[ve done photoshop, we’ve wanked 30 times,
Now we’re in the mood for a fight.
Now Mr Shah at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me retweets for free
He’s quick with a joke, or a Facebook poke
But there’s someplace that he’d rather be.
He says, ‘I believe achhe din are here,’
As the Muslims rush out of the place.
‘I’m soon gonna be a movie star
in a film called “Buddha in Space”.’
Oh, la la la, di di da
La la, di da da da dum.
Now Naren is a full-on brahmachari
Who never had time for a wife.
He’s talking with Jaitley, who has lately
Put the nation under much strife.
And the politicians are practising warcraft
And the journos are all getting stoned
Poor Sushma sitting in a corner with dignity
Nursing her drink all alone.
Sing us a song, you’re the Troller Man.
Sing us a song tonight.
We’re useless as hell, and we only feel well
When the toddy has made us all tight.
Pappu’s passed out in a corner.
Some scoundrels put gin in his milk.
Politics is tough. This life is so rough,
But his sleep is smoother than silk.
Arvind is out picking pockets
Soon he’ll shout, ‘Hey, the drinks are on me!’
Vadra’s a bouncer, who thinks he’s an announcer
What would he be without family?
Oh, la la la, di di da
La la, di da da da dum.
Sing us a song, you’re the Troller Man.
Sing us a song tonight.
We’[ve done photoshop, we’ve wanked 30 times,
Now we’re in the mood for a fight.
Oh la la la, di di da
We’re in the mood for a fight!
