Dear Mr. Modi,
I hope you’re doing fine. You probably are just fine counting the cash IPL’s money machine is making for you and your alliances. This season of IPL has been even bigger and you have left no stone unturned to make sure about that. All good. Clap. Clap. Clap. One tight slap.
I am sorry if I appear rude to you Mr. Modi. It’s not my intent to make you sound like a money hungry Godzilla. To millions of cricket fans across the globe you’re probably a good lord. To millions of innocent ladies in India and across the globe you’re just another sport-loving-money-making-celeb-licking jerk. Cricket and especially T20 owes you big time. Ladies have a special title for you and that’s called Mr. Modi-behen-#$%^@.
I am sorry again. By now you’re probably wondering what you did to deserve such a grand title. Let me make it clear Mr. Modi. Ladies, both young and old, loved watching television soaps and dramas, sugar coated reality shows and saas-bahu social mythologies but then you came around and ruined it for us. Trust me on this but a season of IPL is like a big big PMS.
I am sorry if I sound rude here. It’s not my intent to make you angry Mr. Modi but all we care about is our lovers, our hubbies and our little children. All those cheerleader-dance-licking maniacs that you’ve made out of our better halves is just not acceptable. TV remote is worse than the ring in The Lord of the Rings. Every day we have to succumb to three-four hours of plain boredom as our better halves take control of the TV screens and make our life miserable. As if it wasn’t already.
I request you to kindly shove it up your candy little boom boom. Let there be light.
All India Naari Bachao Association
Disclaimer: The above is a piece of satire. It’s not to be taken seriously. The author’s views are her personal. The website takes no responsibility for the author’s views.