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The Kettle scowled at the Pot. "Your black image ruined our party in Lucknow," it snarled. "You shouldn't preside over the table."
The cups and saucers watched in silence. Only the spoons tittered. "That’s right, boss," the spoons chimed. "There must be a full discussion. We must fix responsibility for our party being ruined in Lucknow!" The spoons were powerful. They fed all kinds of things to all kinds of people. People often referred to them as chamchas.
The Pot heard the Kettle in silence. The Pot thought to itself: "If I spoilt the party in Lucknow, what about the huge party you ruined in 2004? Why didn’t you talk about accountability then? You boasted about being so shining! And you turned out to be so black! And as the Kettle you occupied the centre of the table and presided over the party! Remember?"
But the Pot didn’t say this aloud. The Pot was made by unskilled potters from Nagpur. It was very brittle. It could break under the heat. So the Pot meekly said: "You’re so right, Kettleji! There should indeed be a full discussion!"
The spoons became excited and started to chatter among themselves. They made fun of the Nagpur potter for making such a brittle pot. The spoons looked up to the Kettle because it was the Iron Kettle. The spoons themselves were also metallic. They were not made by the potter. They were all purchased in the market.
"There will be a big party in 2009," the Kettle said. "We must prepare for it."
"Prepare for that, prepare for that!" the spoons sang in chorus. But the cups and saucers remained silent. They whispered to each other. "How can the Kettle prepare for the big party in 2009 when it gave such a black account of itself in the big party of 2004?" All this was happening on a small corner table in preparation for a banquet in Rashtrapati Bhavan. "If you hadn’t been so black and stained in Lucknow, the waiters would have placed us on a higher table," the Kettle nagged the Pot.
"Higher table, higher table!" sang the spoons in chorus.
But the cups and saucers remained silent. They only whispered among themselves. One was heard saying to another: "What kind of party can we serve? We cups are so few, and spoons so many!"
The other sighed: "Perhaps our party days are over!"
(Puri can be reached at rajinderpuri2000@yahoo.com)