Jesustan Fauj Hai Taiyyar

It is I.

I am back.

I know you missed me, but I was busy. Painfully busy.

Beloved Leader’s ceaseless campaigns to annihilate distant nations faced a stern test some months ago. Sundered cruelly from their men, abandoned to their fate, the women of Jesustan set about a hideous wailing. In the old days, it mattered little, but now what with phones and TV, the ranks threatened to abandon their posts and return home.

Aware that Caesar’s armies and Ceaser's god-ordained order has often been undone in such circumstances, even gentlemen of leisure disinclined to either altruism or vigorous physical activity (such as myself) were compelled to pitch in and do their Patriotic Duty.

Saddey mulk mein ich maujan hi maujhan, wrote the Pakistani poet, jithe vekho faujan hi faujan. Patriotic Duty, which is much the same in any land, was like that only. I cannot tell you how miserable it was: hour after hour after hour of ceaseless in-out, in-out, in-out with Memsahibs who had been reared for years on extra-large size packets of aloo chips in sour cream dip, and having all the while to listen to the strange squeaking sounds made by the springs the natives insist on nailing under their manjis

Oh, the horror, the horror. That spoiled so-and-so Joseph Conrad had no idea what the heart of darkness looks like, and this I can tell you, it most certainly isn't in Africa.

Now, though, I am free, to write (and to nurse what was once my proud manhood, but resembles nothing so much as a gajar as it is being shredded to be turned into halwa .) At the core of my new-found liberty, as with most things in Jesustan, lie technology and entrepreneurship: billions of dollars of investments in research, and thousands of the finest minds in this land, have worked in perfect harmony to set me free.

Long Island-based Create-a-Mate has come up with, well, how do I put this, means to mass-produce gajars, sort of like tractor-and-fertiliser farming versus hothouse organic production [http://www.createamate.com/default.aspx]. Create-a-Mate's new technology calls on women to persuade their lords-and-masters to stick their gajars into a something that looks a lot like a large bowl of idli-batter. Given that their lords-and-masters are, for the most part, either deviants who have always longed to stick their gajars into idli-batter, or total kaddoos who are beyond caring, this is usually not a problem.

Once the batter hardens – ideally with the lord-and-master’s gajar well out of the way by then – out pops a perfect, cast-plastic penis. Egg-like vibrating devices – which, for reasons that escape my imagination, are also available separately – are then inserted into the cast-plastic penis. Zindabad! At one fell swoop, and for just $ 79.95, vibrating eggs extra, the Jesustanis have solved what was threatening to be a debilitating social crisis.

Now all is well. No more loneliness. No more infidelity. “Call it fun, call it sexy, I call it practical,” wrote one Army wife to Create-a-Mate, “My husband is in the service and while he’s away fighting for our country, well … I’m smiling as if he were here!”

So, GI Joe can sleep well in Baghdad, secure in the knowledge that Mrs.Joe is curled up happily with her plastic gajar, contentedly turning the 99-kilo steak she had for dinner into methane as she sleeps snuggled inside the nice, warm duvet. In fact, she can even have the gajar, which comes in chocolate, mocha and vanilla flavours, for desert. I know it is made of plastic, but then so is almost anything else that is sold on the food shelves of Jesustani supermarkets.

Dushman Khabardar, Ab Jesustan Fauj Hai Taiyyar!