Bapu Smile and 'Our' PM's Sytle
THE man in uniform with tantalizing automatic gun was yelling at me. A few moments back, I was in heaven, listening to Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven and now in hell. I removed my headphone and heard only some blabbering. When his tremendous tone calmed down, I understood him and through his big black moustache, he was asking me to stop there immediately, because the Prime Minister was passing by. Smile is a rare thing, so I faked a smile and asked the wobbly moustache, which Prime Minister? He had a surprise tone, 'ours'. I hanged the same fake smile on my face and spoke with a child voice, 'and look, all the bad guys in facebook say, he's extinct in our country!' Now the moustache was unmoved, probably fathoming my unsavory words before raising the tempting gun and shoot me. It was a nice morning, sky was cloudy, rain was expected and a cool breeze was caressing my hair. It was a wrong day to die, so I moved away from the glaring eyes of moustache to