Rats United


The boss of the CIA was scratching his head. He looked worried. “Hey, listen everybody. The President wants us to find people all over the world and enlist them on the side of America in his war against terror. He particularly mentioned Gujarat in India. Anyone know where that is?”

One of the operatives put up his hand. “Boss, I have a question. What kind of rat is a Guja RAT?”

The expert on India who had been sitting quietly chipped in. “Listen fellows. It’s not Guja Rat. It’s Gujarath! In the local lingo Rath means chariot”

The operative looked disbelieving. “Chariot! You’ve got to be kidding me. Chariots went out with the Romans centuries ago. This is the twenty-first century remember?”

The expert on India smiled wryly. “We have to keep in mind that not all parts of the world. Are as enlightened as the states, the land of the free,” he said. I’ve been watching some films of the chariot. There is this bearded guy called Modi sitting on it. Lets enlist him.”

The boss looked relieved. “Great idea he said. Do you think he’ll play along?”

“Seems likely. All he says in his speeches is: ‘Lets kill all the muslims.’”

The boss looked positively happy. That’s great. Just the kind of guy we need. Send him ten million dollars through one of those organizations they have – the Wishful Hindu Perished or something it’s called. Let them know that if they do a good job there’s more coming.”

The operative looked shocked. “Ten million! Boss, don’t you think that’s over the top? What’s an Asian going to do with ten million? I think a couple of million will do.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said the expert quietly. “I think the boss is right. This Modi guy knows how to count. He’s always going on about five times five is twenty five in his speeches.”

“Hey, that’s weird, what do you think it means?”

“I’m still trying to figure it out,” said the expert. “What I think it means is this. I think he’s sending a message out to everyone that this time he wants more. You know how corrupt these Asian politicians are. I think he’s saying that while he accepted five percent commission last time, this time he wants twenty five percent. So we better give him ten million.”

“Any other possibles?” asked the boss.

The operative who had been watching the films said, “What about this clean shaven guy who’s talking about Hindu suicide squads?”

The expert on India looked up. “Oh him. That’s Thackeray”

“Hey, I think you got it wrong. He’s a brown guy. Can’t be called Thackeray. That’s a white name.”

“Oh he’s Thackeray all right. Bal Thackeray is his name. Bal means hair you know. Fancies himself the next Hitler.”

“That’s the guy for us. Do you think he’ll lead a suicide squad?” “Not a chance. Look at those smooth hands. Guy’s never done a day’s work in his life. But he’ll get others to do it, so let’s contact him.”

“What about this Togadia guy. He just called someone a dog. Seems nice, dirty material to me.”

“Boss, I’m getting confused. Are we hiring the rats or the dogs?”

“That’s the problem with you. Never could see the subtle points. We are the cats, see? And the rats and dogs are both our enemies. We make the rats fight the dogs and take over when it’s all over.”

“Genius boss, sheer genius!”

The operative put up his hand again. “Boss what happens after they finish our job? What if one of them turns out to be another Osama?”

“Naw. These guy’s are no Osama. See those fat bellies? They are softies who like the good life. After we finish with them we tell them to shut up. We’ll give them a couple of chariots to play with!”