Teri Colleagues and My Friends,
I am quite used to writing smutty novels with graphic details of an old pervert’s sexual fantasies and salacious text messages to colleagues young enough to be my daughter. But, drafting a leave application for everybody’s eyes makes me feel like scratching my predator’s whiskers.
But, since resigning, proceeding on indefinite leave, returning and then going back on indefinite leave consume most of my energy, resources and intellect (MERI, for brevity) during day time, I might as well get used to the idea of writing something more than sexting.
Well, it is that time of the year again when I need to dig up a deep hole somewhere to hide from the outrage over my ability to dig up girls at an age most people should be digging up a phone directory to contact somebody to dig their grave. All this because they have dug up more skeletons in meri dear Teri.
It’s a shame, actully. Last year, after resigning as head of International Panel of Climax Control (not that Panel on Climate headed by a man of similar tastes and temperament), I had hibernated for long to escape the world that had exploded because of a senior citizen’s ability to do unmentionable things to his junior colleagues.
I returned for two reasons. One, there was an alarming increase in complaints of harassment by the local fauna — basically anything that moves — since I ventured amidst them. And, two, I assumed that the world would have started lacerating itself with penance — note to myself: must call up Tarun Tejpal to get the next farewell missive right — for hounding and grounding a man so eager to discharge his duties towards mankind and womankind, especially the latter.
I mean, only flaccid fools will ask a man to quit just because he wears trousers in office only to keep his ankles warm, or because he knows that harass is not a single word but perks of power defined by two words?
Why don’t they get it? I have money, I have power, I am Nobel, so, why can’t I give up all these material pursuits and take up the missionary position in office?
O Tempora! O Mores! O Bill Clinton! O, all those blighted Os.
Silly me! Just when I had taken time off my pervert pursuits and said yes to the offer of taking up a position of power, something that would have allowed a man like me to be on top again, they started talking about my past. And now have to go on leave for an indefinite period.
I thought I was so clever. With the media focus having shifted from my dark deeds, my victims giving up their fight and quitting the organisation and the board of directors solidly behind me, I presumed that I will return to a hero’s welcome. Like Bill Clinton returning as a Starr to the Oval Office after being needlessly hounded for enjoying similar perks of power.
And what is this fuss about accepting degrees from me? Schools and colleges can only teach you so much. But only a self-taught man like me can prematurely articulate, yes, I mean articulate, the importance of perversion, shamelessness, hypocrisy, immorality, moral squalor, treachery, cheating, predatory instincts — in short all the qualities that turn us into beasts — in the corporate jungle.
I think the loss is all theirs. I might yet get to ogle and pounce at some other girl student at some other convocation in some other university, but these students will be permanently devoid of my quick guide to a Nobel cause.
I am tempted to say to them what all Punjabis love to…Teri …But then some might wrongly interpret that I am bequeathing the organisation to some of their relatives I may be eyeing.
Instead, I am making a quick Return to Almora, which, incidentally is the name of the unreadable porn I wrote. Guess what! I was promised the Bad Sex Fiction prize for it. And just when I was drafting my acceptance speech, they gave me something more Noble.
Anyway, to get to the climax without any more wordplay, I am proceeding on leave till further notice. I hope, in my absence, you will not do to the cause of climax control, what I always scheme of doing to those young colleagues.
And don’t go anywhere. Like the Predator — or was it Terminator? — I shall be back once the current outrage dies down and people forget that what I am hiding in my beard isn’t just a twig but a whole nest.
Nothing can destroy people like me. As long as the world has few good men and — wink, wink — lots of beautiful women, I will go on and on.
I remain, as always,
Slimy As Kachori