IN my very vivid imagination, I saw the wife bouncing into my study, “There’s some government officials to see you!” she said. I wandered into my sitting room, and watched as the two men rose and extended their hands in my direction, “We are honoured to have you on board sir!”
“On board!” I said, “I’m quite happy where I am!” “You have been chosen unanimously as the country’s new historian!” “Whoa! Whoa!” I said, “I am not a historian, I’m a story teller! I write fiction!” “Yes sir, all of us in the government have read your stories sir, and felt you were best suited for the job of rewriting our history!” said the shorter of the two officials, as he pulled out a sheet of papers and gave it to me.
“What is this?” I asked. “Just an agreement saying you accept the post!” You are very kind gentlemen, but I have to refuse!” “You will be offered a post equivalent to a ministerial one. You can have a red beacon for your car!” “Lovely!” exclaimed the wife. “Would I be able to take it to the mall and kitty parties?”
“Of course madam!” “We liked your article yesterday about our countryman already being on the moon, and welcoming Neil Armstrong there!” “But that was just a work from my imagination!” I cried. “We would like our history books to carry that story!” said the taller man, “All you have to do is to give it a date, just before the Americans landed!”
“A car with a red beacon!” sighed the wife. “Our children also need some, fighting, some bloodshed and heroes,” said the shorter man, “So let us have the freedom struggle a little bloodied, not just this non-violent thing we have now. Also put some of our present ministers serving as officers in the liberation army freedom struggle! You can even have a scene of these same ministers cum officers driving the British out of the country, singlehanded with their swords, maybe chasing down to the sea from the Gateway of India!”
“I can’t do that!” I said desperately, “It is absolutely fictitious!” “That is why we have hired you!” said both the men as one pulled out his pen and offered it to me. “A car with a red beacon!” sighed the wife as I reluctantly took the pen and signed the agreement. “This sir, is your first assignment!” said the tall man giving me some notes
“What is it?” I asked wearily. “That India won the first Olympics!” smiled the shorter man. I reluctantly took the notes sat at my computer and started creating history!” After all, nobody has a car with a red beacon anymore..!
