The Famous 7

Ever wondered at the way  our leaders meet at the UN  and get really intimate, backslapping and indulging in general locker-room behaviour. The sworn foes who deliver near hysterical hate rhetoric at home cozy up while on a junket. A sure case of politics making strange bedfellows, but missed. After all, it doesn´t make the headlines like Clinton shaking hands with Castro or Lazio grabbing Arafat, but then its happening. After the recent Millennium Summit, I just couldn´t take it any more. Called up this lady who´s on Interpol´s most wanted list. "What´s up with these jokers? Am I missing something here?" I asked. "Well, this is one of the many cans that the journos haven´t pried open. Will you take me on a holiday to Kerala this winter?" she bargained like one of those sold out to the latest best-seller destination.

After I made an indifferent promise, she gave me a mole´s account of a recent bash, held at a nondescript fishing village on the Saurashtra coast. "It was all drunken revelry. I would even call it conspiratorial foreplay." The real agenda, she said, was to get Clinton to expand his definition of the "most dangerous place on earth" to cover the entire Subcontinent and then apportion parts of the region to MNCs for ´care-taking´.
The night was as black as it could get. In the salty wasteland, only the gaggle of alcoholic mirth broke the night´s stillness. The SAARC rendezvous was taking place at a top-secret location. While the region slept, these guys and girls met to finally bury the misery of SAARC and give it away to the best bidder. But before business, it was pleasure.