Once upon a time there lived a lion in the forests of India. He was an ambitious and aggressive lion. Where his other contemporaries were happy to eat whatever food the lioness brought, he would go far and wide, seeking new hunting grounds and trying out different cuisine. He developed quite a taste for exotic meat after he came across a few hippies sleeping in a tent. After that indian meat never seemed that good to him and he kept dreaming of going to the west.
As luck would have it, the NYZ or the New York Zoo had a need for a lion. Their old Lion had reached the end of its productive life and was demanding more healthcare and shorter working hours and its roar was no longer the same as it used to be. The zoo authorities came up with a plan to let their old lion go and get a brand new hungrier lion from India. Our lion in India who was anyway dreaming of white meat, got wind of this and applied for the job. After jumping through a few hoops to prove his mental and physical fitness, he was selected and was soon on the boat to America.
On his arrival, he was taken to his new livng place and shown his cage where he would work. He liked the bright efficient world of lights around him, the wealth and prosperity visible and everything he saw seemed so much bigger and healthier than he saw back in india. The people were definitely juicier and bigger, the food he saw people munching looked so much bigger, heck even the squirrels looked like little cats. Our lion felt mighty pleased and looked forward to a great lipsmacking time ahead and soon was roaring enthusiatically.
After a while he became hungry and went to see what was up for dinner. There was a little corner where he saw a little door open and a plate was pushed in. Bounding forward he attacked the food only to immediately step back frowning. All that was there on the plate were a bunch of bananas. He figured that there must have been a mistake and they probably werent ready for his coming here and so mixed up the food. Being a lion who could take the rough with the smooth, he finished off the bananas washing them down with lots of water, and went to sleep.
The next day the same thing happened. Another plate, another bunch of bananas. This was getting too much. Still he finished them off and waited for dinner where he hoped he would get a juicy steak or something finally. Dinner came and again another plate and another bunch of bananas. This time he let out a mighty roar and someone came around to find out what was the reason for our lion doing overtime.
"Whats up lion dude" said the janitor. "Nothing much" said the lion, "but do you know who is incharge of the kitchen here?".
"Hell no, I'm just the janitor, but I could find out. Whats the problem?"
"Well you see, I am the king of the jungle. I roamed far and wide in the forests and plains of India. There was no one who could even raise their head and talk to me. I ate only the finest freshest meat and left the rest for my family. Yet ever since I came here all they give me to eat is bananas. I think theres some mistake.. why the hell would someone give the king of the jungle bananas to eat"
The janitor smiled a knowing smile. He had seen this before. He said " Hey lion dude, do you have your passport"
"Sure" said the lion, rummaging among his things and coming up with it.
"okay, now check whats written on your visa stamp"
The lion, peered closely and read the fine print, his frown getting frownier and frownier.
"Yup man" said the janitor, " you may be the king of the jungle back in India, but you came here on a Monkey Visa. Be happy that you get bananas, dude."
And our lion let out a roar, which was quieter and softer than he had ever roared.
an "a to z" of thoughts, conversations, remarks, observations,musings about
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Woo hoo! Missing home, is it?!
Great!!
:)) :)) :))
thats a good one.
cheers.
heh...thanks... my last few weeks in amrika.. am reduced to making daal and chawal ...something i swore i would never do. next thing you know i am gonna be returning for the next trip with a pressure cooker.
Post a Comment