He was released recently on parole. "Show me some important people," Bharat pleaded with his parole officer. "I'm out of touch with recent happenings." His parole officer took him to a social function attended by many vips. "That's the prime minister," he whispered. "But he wants to forget that. He believes he is a great poet. If you ever meet him, talk only of poetry."
They mingled with the other guests. "That's the home minister," the officer pointed out. "He used to believe he was Lord Ram. He now believes he is Sardar Patel."
"Do people believe he is Sardar Patel?" Bharat asked.
"People are confused. That bearded chap by his side is the Gujarat chief minister. He too claims he is Sardar Patel!"
"How do people know who is the real Sardar Patel?" Bharat asked.
"They don't. That's why the CM has hired a firm that uses computers to alter his face on the Internet and make him resemble the original Sardar Patel."
"Who are those two in the corner?"
"The chap on the right is Bal Thackeray," the parole officer said. "He wants to create terrorist suicide squads."
"Isn't it suicidal to announce suicide squads?"
"Of course! That's how he's ensuring that the squads achieve quick suicide!"
"What about the other chap?"
"That's Acharya Dharmendra. He believes the Pope wants to conquer India. His war is against the Vatican."
"What about the fellow behind him?"
"That is Praveen Togadia. He believes his trishul-wielding followers will forcibly occupy Islamabad!"
"Let's leave," Bharat said.
"We have made alternate arrangements for your stay. Where would you like to be put up?" the parole officer asked.
Bharat started crying. "Take me back to the asylum," he sobbed. "I don't want to be sane!"
Things look really bad
When truth becomes so hazy—
Why call me mad
When you yourself are crazy?
