A Bushy Affair

Isn’t it curious that the president of a forest turns out to be a bush?

Nevertheless, as a ‘beneficiary’ of imperialism, I must confess that the veracity of the ensuing account is somewhat compromised. Names and some details have been deliberately obfuscated for the sake of national (or should I say, personal) security.

In days gone by, it was “Simon Go Back.” Fast forward to 1st March 2006, and the air was thick with gallantuous cries of “Bush Go Back!” And when has our college group ever lagged in civic engagement? Seizing the moment, they resolved to incinerate an effigy of the honourable Mr. George W. Bush.

Everything was pre-planned and nothing was designed to be accomplished. Sharp at 9:00 am local time (03:30 UTC) Arun hollered at, Aveek to procure some straw for the effigy’s structure.

“And the funds for this venture?” asked Aveek.

“Withdraw from the group’s coffers!” was Arun’s canned reply.

The straw was acquired, and the doppelgänger assembled — remarkably lifelike, I must admit. With palpable concern, someone questioned, “Those shorts on the effigy seem familiar. Aveek, whence came they?”

“Uh, borrowed from Soumen’s quarters.”

“Hey! Those are my only shorts! How could you take them?”

“My apologies. I assure you, We’ll provision a replacement… eventually.”

A throng amassed, slogans flew, and the torch was kindled. The effigy’s left hind leg was chosen as the initial ignition point. “Why won’t the flame spread to the straw?” Curiosity piqued, I too leaned in closer.

“Aveek, where did you buy the straw from?”

“Uh… we took from the nearby cowshed” replied Aveek.

“What? This straw is all soaked!”

“Ow.”

“And the funds you took?”

“Spent on sodas.”

The remedy? Kerosene. Vijay dashed to retrieve a bottle of what was supposed to be colourless kerosene from the common room. It arrived promptly, was applied, and the ignition reattempted. “Wait, this is water, not kerosene!” And once more, the intellectuals convened.

The new solution? Sunlight. It was proposed that we let the effigy dry under the sun’s gaze. After some strategic planning, a bamboo post was erected right at the circumcenter of our college grounds, and the effigy was suspended from the said pole.

The nearest spectator was none other than the Principal.

“What is this?” asked the Principal.

“Sir, it represents Mr. Bush.”

Principal exclaimed “What? Looks like mere straw to me” all while ardently scratching his bald upper hemisphere.

“Sir, the effigy is of Mr. George Bush.”

“Oh! Perhaps make it more recognisable?”

Must the thinkers never rest? Off went Abhijeet to fetch some presidential newspaper cutouts. By this time, many had dispersed to their lectures, save for a few spectators like myself. How could one miss such a spectacle?

Few moments later, “Sir, is it satisfactory now?”

“Remind me, whom are you incinerating today?” asked the visibly perplexed Principal.

“Sir, as I mentioned earlier, George Bush.”

“Then why is Tony Blair’s visage adorning it?”

Enough was enough. I decided to return to my class.

Upon my return about an hour later, the spectacle had concluded. At last! News had also reached me that reporters from YukTV had been present. Soon enough, a few approached Arun and complained, “Were we summoned here merely for mockery?” With a bit more probing, it turned out they were indeed from YukTV, who were mistakenly instructed by the Principal to tidy up after our group’s chaotic demonstration.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.


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