Bad times. Yesterday, my wife (mind you, she’s a doctor too) told the media I was feeling ‘suffocated’. A bit unusual because normally it’s those who listen to my cricket commentary who feel suffocated, what with my knack for proverbs, shayari and what not. So the question is, how could a suffocator become himself suffocated? Ah, that’s a conundrum for my IPL viewers.
But today, I feel suffocated and I am told that happens to anyone who has a long telephonic chat with our party boss, Rajnath Singh. He went on and on and on about how valuable I was to the BJP. Azharuddin never told me how valuable I was to the Indian team and that was why I ran midway through an England tour. But I have to admire this Rajnath guy. He had the guts to ‘debunk’ my wife’s charges though I’d rather he watched Dabangg I, II and even III and not attempt any such debunking, whatever that meant. Did I tell Rajnathji I was fed up with all those insinuations of BJP minions that I no longer cared for my constituency Amritsar? This was...
