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Miss Whirl
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 Mekya, I thought Bareilly was only for baans or bhains, I'm not sure which. Now it also has a Miss Blurred. All the papers tell me it is a hysteric occasion.I don't know why people make such a fuss about Priyanka Chopra saying that Mother Teresa is alive. Maybe, she hadn't cribbed the right notes for a living person. Who cares if she thinks Jamshedpur is in the West? It's all for the best. National integration and all that. People tell me India has a hattrick of world titles. Lara Dutta was Miss You-Ni-Worse and Diya Mirza Miss Something-or-the-other. Our own Mona Darling is now Miss Kaddupur. What joy, no? Lara, I think, was the girlfriend of a Dorjee but now has moved base to Noo Yaawk to some ball player, Jeter-Feter kuch. What ball I don't know, but it isn't a kirkit ball. At least, she's not with the tailor any more. I saw the paper on Saturday and all it had on the frontpage was Priyanka, not that Vadra bahu but sadi Chopra kudi. Vajpayee's ceasefire for a paragraph, the Bush-Gore stalemate was in the inside pages, but then we have to get our priorities right, right? I wonder what she will do now? I'm trying to think what the others did. Aishwarya Rai is with Salman Khan and Sushmita Sen has adopted a girl (at least, she didn't go with Salman or it would've been a freak show). But other than that, I can't remember the names. Some Yukta? I remember all the work they promised to do for charity. Maybe they also remembered that charity begins at home. Now, peopleji, I must also tell you about the pain I'm trying to hide. My beti, all of six years, also wants to be Miss World, Universe, Galaxy, whatever. Basically, she wants to be a heavenly body and it's costing me the Earth. For a Lower Division Clerk like me it's difficult to meet her demands. First, she wants all those creams and lotions and lipsticks and other make-up they keep showing on TV. I'm stunned. Even my wife's dressing table doesn't have so much on it. She, my daughter, paints herself before going to school, for dinner, even for going to the bathroom. I don't remember what she looked like. No, no, I'm a proud papa but I have my secret worries. She wants special tuitions. Not for preparing for the IAS or IIT or IIM but drama classes and psychology coaches and speech trainers not to mention admission to a finishing school so she can learn to walk correctly. I thought she'd learnt that years back. Think also of all those dresses she buys. No, she doesn't want ordinary frocks, she needs beachwear and evening gowns and such things. She wants designer labels. Not even some Tahiliani or Abu-Jani but someone from Milan or Paris. She's certainly dressed to kill. Every time I see the price tag, I nearly have a heart attack. Anyway, I don't have time any more. I have to take my beti for the preliminary round for the Little Miss pageant that is being in the mohalla. RECENTLY ON JAAL: Chatterbox 6 Chatterbox 5 Chatterbox 4 Chatterbox 3 Chatterbox 2 Chatterbox 1 Cloud Nine The Son Always Shines Glam Slam Autonomy Retort The Sri Lankan Mulberry Bush Take The Green Quiz A Tiger By The Tail 1000000000+ Chandrachud Rereported The Second Coming Of Bill Are You A Bollywood Buff? SEND US YOUR FEEDBACK ABOUT THIS ARTICLE:
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