Down is Up

"He may be a real contender for this position." commented General Specific putting down the tattered newspaper.

He got the sex wrong but no one cared enough to point it out. Even Sir Mam seemed content letting it pass. General Specific suspected the basis of his contentment was the march in June, the second pride parade in Delhi.

Premier Worst was, as always, pompously looking out of the window with greedy eyes but seemed aware enough to prod Ambassador Boeing in the ribs. "The country of Pseudan," he began, a tad flustered, and stopped. A poke and an irate grunt later he took another stab at it, "President Obama believes she is an inspiring woman who will make a great justice.”

"And his nominee believes that it is appropriate for a judge to consider their experiences as women and people of colour in their decision making." added a sullen Private Public.

Premier Worst had lost interest and Ambassador Boeing chose to not disclose his personal view. Silence followed until Platinum Blonde chose to break it with something that sounded like "Obam-ie has been, like, nominating people?"

Anju Bobby George would have been put to shame at Ambassador Boeing’s jump to explain. She was probably used to it by now. “President Obama, on Tuesday nominated federal appellate Judge Sonia Sotomayor to the US Supreme Court.”

A disappointed Platinum Blonde, out of courtesy maybe, chose to respond, “So she’s gonna be, like, one of those judge folk at the US Supreme Court who bang tables and wear black and uhm...you know, judge other folk?”

Ambassador Boeing went sixty to zero, flat.

“It’s a publicity gimmick nowadays. The success of anyone who isn’t everyone is something to write in the papers about. Help the helpless and then they start taking psychological advantages.” spat Baby Bitch. Major Minor hesitantly nodded, more in acknowledgement than in agreement.

“Immigrations laws were changed but the Mexicans and Indians taking over the hot dog industry and public transport didn't happen until quite some time after that.” offered Private Public as an argument after a thoughtful minute had passed.

“Margaret Thatcher became PM years after the British Suffragette and a blonde vice president would have been a bigger gimmick than a black president.” blurted Ambassador Boeing, obviously regretting it.

“And Beckham be kicking ball in Europe again only when England comes up with a senior citizens scheme making it mandatory.” added Great Scot. He hadn’t been his usual self since Wednesday’s G2 summit in Rome and it was good to see him back.

“Even the black, once the pin-up boys of oppression, didn't get the modern form of NBA until 1949. On the other hand, it hasn’t been long since Arjun Singh, ignoring the scientifically proven methods of using logic and statistics, came up with 49.5.” continued Major Minor from behind his locks. “And we already have eight more.” he added as an afterthought.

Holy Shit filled up his lungs and cleared his throat, but Inner Shia beat him to it. He was meditating a minute back and took everyone by surprise really, catching Holy Shit off guard too maybe.

“If it’s about being different and oppressed then look within, we have just elected a Sikh PM and have a Muslim vice president. A woman president is in office and 59 more were elected to the Lok Sabha. A Dalit lady is being appointed Speaker of the House while an Italian widow holds the strings. The young, fair and the not-so-naive-after-all-is-he Rahul Gandhi figures in the credits as the Messenger while the Ministry of Youth Affairs and Sports is headed by another Sikh who is seventy two years old. A twenty eight year old girl from Meghalaya managed to take oath in Hindi, some swore in the name of god and some others solemnly affirmed and still we rise. That, my children, is too complex to be a coincidence.”

His eyes twinkled maybe because he wasn’t much for religious propaganda. Holy Shit had, in the meantime, given up on his argument. Inner Shia was probably right anyway. He was also not finished.

“People using their minority ‘tag’ are innumerable. There isn’t one specific person as such that you could blame either. It is misused, I won’t say it isn’t, but think of those who really need it. It gives them another thing to look forward to, hope that things could change. Even false hope helps in the short run. Apart from that, giving something which you could do without isn’t as fulfilling as giving something that you can’t and that, children, reflects your sincerity. It is eventually up to you. How much are you willing to sacrifice for your brother?”

The others didn’t seem to have an opinion or were refraining from expressing it. It was food for thought which required chewing upon. There was literally a world of arguments out there. On both sides. What was missing was a conclusion and a measure of compassion didn’t seem to be an answer. Sir Mam wanted to raise that point that women could count as oppressed. Ambassador Boeing had plans of introducing the LTTE story and how the Tamils fared. Major Minor thought the Deccan Chargers were a good example of a genuine success story. Archies’ rumoured marriage to Veronica, thought Page Boy. Captain Follow considered mentioning North Korea and Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal. There was no end to it.

The lights were dimming. The driver drove on nonchalantly. It was a wonder how he stayed up all the time, for the bus never stopped. Premier Worst was already drooling and Platinum Blonde seemed to be nodding off too. General Specific was just getting comfortable and that was the moment Great Scot chose to bring the issue to life again. General Specific couldn’t help but smile.

“It was only last week that Sir Bobby was wondering when ye lads be getting yerself a national football team.”

It was going to be a long night.

(Image modified from the movie, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End)