Yes,It Happened To Me..

Once what happened was that I had just landed at the JFK International Airport, in my private Cessna Citation Mustang (Model 510) VLJ Business Jet. I know most of you must be thinking that I had flown to America, for my usual business trip or to meet President Bush and discuss the issue of rising oil prices with him. But no, this trip was for a different cause. Here is why I was there-

Around 20 hours before I landed at JFK, Scarlet Johansson had called me up and invited me to her house to spend the weekend with her. She even said that I should be ready for some “serious action”. Being an Indian, I knew that serious action only meant Dharmendra kicking Gabbar’s ass, after Hema Malini went against his wishes and danced for Kalia, Sambha and the rest of the gang. Dharmendra had even shouted, “Kutte Kameene, Main tera khoon pee jaunga (Bastards, I’ll drink your blood)”, but even that could not scare off Gabbar. He must have been a hell of a dacoit or maybe even he was fed up listening to Dharmendra’s age old dialogue. Maybe he thought, “For long have I heard him swear like that, but yet nobody has seen him turn into Dracula to feast on anyone’s blood… and maybe this is my only chance of getting Hema Malini to give me a lap dance!!” So Gabbar decided to take the risk and Hema gave him an Indian lap dance but the ass kicking he received afterwards has been etched in the memory of all Sholay lovers. So, like I was saying, I knew what “serious action” really meant. Before I could tell Scarlet that there was no need to rent Sholay as I had already watched it more than a 100 times, she hung up the phone.

Now, international calls from India are too damn expensive. Thus I decided to fly all the way to New York and call her up from a local phone. After all, I knew the importance of saving money. The global economy was in doldrums, and I didn’t want to waste a lot of money on an expensive phone call. I even made up my mind to donate that money to the US Federal Agencies so that they could add my sizeable contribution to the $700 billion, in order to overcome their financial crisis.

Incase amongst my regular readers (like Kislay, Bhai Chandra, Professor Chaos) and forced regular readers (like DJ, Obdurate Sushma, Anonymous Su-deep, Mly and Mockingbird), there are those who think I’m being partial towards America, then I must dispel their doubts. Even I am aware that the Indian economy is on the edge and the market is very volatile. The erratic stock market has burnt a big hole in my pocket too. For long I have quit buying Jockey, Alligator, Van Heusen etc and have been wearing Rupa’s undergarments instead!! The reason why I want to help to the US Federal Reserves is because the entire world economy is directly dependent on the US economy. The sooner we can get their economy back on track, the sooner I can replace my Lifebuoy soap with Denim Leather (FOR MEN ONLY).

As I was saying, I had decided to go to New York to make a local call. I went to the roof of my 80 storied luxury apartment and put on my parachute knapsack. (P.S. - I owned all flats/condo in that luxury apartment.) I jumped off the building and opened the ‘chute when I crossed the 65th floor, where I saw Bill Gates having lunch with my dad. I wished them a good day and the wind carried me to my personal airport. I got on my Eclipse Aviation 500 VLJ and remembered that it had not been serviced ever since I flew around the world ten times at a stretch on it.
So I jumped off the cockpit and all of a sudden, I felt seismic tremors. The earth shook below my feet, and the trophy which I had won for shooting two terrorists with one bullet, fell off the display unit. I was mad. “Damn you Moulshri Gupta!!” I shouted. She must have fallen off her bed again, I thought. The tremors were tremendous and I was sure that the whole of New Delhi was razed to the ground by now. I replaced my trophy after hurling a number of abuses. I climbed into the cockpit of my D-JET composite, five-seat, single-engine jet aircraft and leapt into the pilot seat. The bloody seat broke and crashed through the cockpit floor. “Manufacturing seat defect”, I screamed and called up my secretary ordering her to stop payment for the aircraft to the Diamond Aviations. I wasn’t going to pay a penny for an aircraft with manufacturing defects. While I was on the phone, I boarded the Cessna Mustang and sat on the pilot’s seat. The chair creaked... I wondered why.

I fired up her Pratt & Whitney Canada PW615F turbofan engines and soon was tearing through the clouds at one and a half times the speed of sound. It must indeed have been very fast for I could not even hear my own voice. I was flying faster that I could speak. Impressed by the jet, I decided to fly over New Delhi and see the devastation which Moulshri must have caused by falling off her bed. Like a true Indian, I feared for the safety of the people of Delhi. But I was amazed to see all the buildings in Delhi as sound as ever. Yes, the Red Fort was still there, the Parliament was fine and the Qutub Minar still stood out like a giant erection!!

“Funny”, I said to myself and began to wonder about the cause of the earthquake. If it wasn’t Moulshri then it must have been Bhai Chandra in Bangalore. I smiled to myself for having solved the mystery in no time and put the aircraft in auto pilot to pat my back.

With the aircraft on auto pilot, I went into the cabin to sign a couple of T-shirts which I had promised to give to Jenna and Barbara Bush. Yes, George Bush’s daughters. Both of them have a huge crush on me and requested me to sign a T-shirt each, for them to show off in front of their super hot girl friends. President Bush has helped India seal the nuclear energy deal, and being a true patriot, I didn’t want to feel burdened by his special interest in the deal. Thus I decided to give these T-shirts to his daughters and thus reduce a burden off my fellow country men’s’ shoulders. We already are overloaded with the Income tax and the sales tax and the property tax and the house tax and the car tax and the wife tax and the education tax. Now our health minister, Mr. Ramadoss has levied a smoking tax as well. He has made sure that the areas where one is allowed to smoke is so disputed that even if you smoke atop the royal seat, you shouldn’t be surprised to see him barge into the loo and offer you toilet roll in one hand and demand smoking tax from the other.

While I was lost in deep thought about the burdens we Indians are burdened with, I saw land below with people thronging on the streets, and cheering. “I couldn’t be flying over India again”, thought I. Then I saw a huge banner go up which read “NO! You are not in India. Welcome to America. We love you, Great Danny!!”

“Ah, always nice to be recognised by my fans”, I remarked. I wasn’t sure how they got to know about my arrival. “It must have been Aaj Tak, after all they are the Sabse Tez news channel. Even before a rape is committed, they air it on television. Even before a match gets underway, they tell us the match score and results, along with detailed match analysis. Yes, it indeed must have been them”, I figured.

I landed in New York in ten minutes after flying over the Arabian Sea, Europe and the Atlantic. I hopped off my business jet and again it happened. I felt the tremors here as well. But then I remembered that I was traveling faster than the speed of sound, and these were just the repercussions of the earthquake in India. In doing so, I was the first man to prove that India and America lie on the same tectonic plate and the seismic waves travel at one and a half times the speed of sound. (I was later awarded the Nobel Prize for this discovery).

I walked to a phone booth and called up Scarlet. It was a local call!! Boy she was excited to hear from me. I told her I knew what was on her mind. I also told her that we Indians know all about “serious action”. After all, we watch a lot of movies too. I also suggested that if she is so keen on engaging in “serious action”, then I should call my friends as well. The more, the merrier. I recommended her to wear a cotton sari, while my friends and I dressed up in Indian outfits.

She said, “Danny, you are sick. How many times have you watched the Kamasutra??” Before I could answer, she hung up again. Hmmm, I still wonder why!!!