Galleh, what are you doing up so late? I thought I could sneak in and out without notice. Men! I must say though that I love these satires you share and you have a knack for our pleasure. I thank you for sharing. Allow me to share a story with you: He is from Calcutta. Uttam Das. Has been all his life. Satinder comes to join him As she does intermittently Only this time she declares its for good. Satinder shares there was a Tsunami In Bombay. And Shawkat escaped the Tsunami He made for the hills his colleagues in the Bombay guild All drowned to join us in Calcutta. Satinder promises to share a story. She squats, legs folded In the air of a Talube. Her flute raised, the maestro hums Uttam glanced at me the notes had wafted in the monsoons all year in the air around Calcutta. In Calcutta, we make the mould. For the folks in Bombay. Discouraged, Satinder uncoiled. as the adder recoils back in the burlap. On Jaaraama. Easy Baby boy. Haroun Masoud. MQDT. Al Khairawan. Darbo that is!! In a message dated 11/1/2007 11:01:43 P.M. Mountain Daylight Time, [log in to unmask] writes: Animal Farm Reloaded (Part Two) By Baba Galleh Jallow Oh yes, Napoleon the pious pig had become a great goat-lover over the past several years. Muriel and other local goats were not very much in favor; but a new species of goat had surfaced in Animal Farm from other surrounding farms, and had been particularly favored by Napoleon, and for good reasons too. These goats had exceptionally long beards and had the peculiar custom of wearing either oversized gowns or strange animal skins with pieces of mirror and cowry shells stitched to them. They profess great spiritual knowledge and power and put themselves at the service of the superstitious Napoleon. These goats professed an uncanny capacity to see into the future and to smell out Napoleon’s actual and potential enemies long before they even thought of harming the great pig. Every night, these medicine-goats, after a long day of feasting, drinking, and stoking Napoleon’s fat ego, would retire to bed with strange objects such as lizard tails, frog carcasses, boar teeth, pieces of dry feces, and small animal horns under their pillows that would help them scan the distant horizons of the future for the great pig. In the morning, they would all meet with Napoleon and tell him which animal to be wary of, what sacrifices to offer, on which day not to venture too far, and a host of other warnings and advices all geared toward the eternal protection of the great and benevolent pig. They also told him that he must personally take control of all local animal structures because there were some strange rumblings at the local level that might cause him some unease. But whatever they did and whatever powers they possessed, these long-beard and strange-clad goats could not help Napoleon against making the lower animals so angry that they would fart near his house, sing only half-heartedly, poop on his doorstep in the middle of the night, or whisper vicious things about the pig who thought he was a god. Neither could they protect Napoleon against the birds who deliberately shot small balls of shit at Napoleon’s mansion and sometimes on the back of his grand boubous, or the chickens who made it a point every dawn to litter Napoleon’s front and backyards with hundreds of droppings. The chickens also made sure that they dropped a few eggs here and there all over the yards. The appearance of eggs at Napoleon’s doorstep every morning was quickly proclaimed as another sign of Napoleon’s esteemed status in the divine scheme of things. The droppings were of course ignored and surreptitiously removed. “You see,” Squealer the Dealer would announce every morning to the traditional assembly of animals; “Eggs are now falling from the skies to show you that our beloved leader is indeed a favorite of the high powers above! So rejoice, O ye wretched animals, for ye have been blessed with a miraculous leader!” It was one of these long-beard and strange-clad goats who advised Napoleon to beware the animals of the red forests and all their talk about animal rights and the rule of law. These red animals, this particular goat had told Napoleon, were a bunch of thieves and liars who were hatching a mammoth plot to drive him out of animal farm and have him replaced by some lowly animal of no consequence who would then be compelled to dance to their red tunes. Their description of this lowly animal cost many an innocent animal their lives. For whichever animal fit the description of this pious goat was made to disappear, accused of planning to overthrow Napoleon, or otherwise effectively neutralized. This particular long-beard and strange-clad goat also told Napoleon that he must befriend the leaders of the animals of the brown forests. He must, Napoleon was told, particularly look out for a leader whose eyes were squinted because he was one animal who could help him fight the treacherous animals of the red forests. And so Napoleon had picked Mr. Squinteyes of dubious fame as his favorite colleague and friend among the league of animal leaders. Mr. Squinteyes was a vehement critic of the red animals and professed a philosophy that sounded very much like a combination of Animalism and Pigism combined. Moreover, Mr. Squinteyes ruled over a very wealthy forest with lots of milk and apples, Napoleon’s favorite foods. It was on account of the ceaseless pouring of milk and apple-aid into Animal Farm that Napoleon had grown so fat that he could hardly raise his paws. That Napoleon, Squealer, Napoleon’s dogs, his black cockerel and all the other pigs were greatly enjoying themselves had become clear as daylight to the lower animals. Napoleon had grown so fat that he could hardly open his eyes and spent most of his time sleeping in Jones’ comfortable bed, while Squealer directed farm affairs. In addition to ‘Animal hero, first class’, ‘Animal hero, second class’, ‘Animal hero, third class’ Animal hero all classes’ and the Order of the Green Banner, Napoleon created and bestowed upon himself many other gallant decorations and titles, all of which he wore on his many public appearances. In addition to his titles of The Great Leader Comrade Napoleon and Savior of the Animals, Napoleon now took on the additional titles of Gallant Benefactor, Grand Master of Wisdom, Benevolent Guardian of the Lost, and His Excellency And Most Royal Highness Dr. Ratahal Bemutoye of Miracle Tree Fame, Commander of the Faithful and Raiser of the Dead. He insisted that on every public appearance, first Squealer and then Kokoliko the black cockerel came forward to address him with all his gallant titles and make mention of his divinity, his heroic deeds and his decorations before his hallowed name itself was pronounced to the unworthy ears of the lower animals. After the battle of the Windmill, Napoleon had also bestowed upon himself the honorable title of Lord Chancellor of the Chequered, as a mark of his gallantry and patriotism. Not even Moses the raven, who never tired of talking about the mysterious Sugar Candy Mountain hidden beyond the distant clouds, failed to see that Napoleon had become worse than Farmer Jones. Clearly, Farmer Jones did not change the rules at every turn to suit his personal needs; Farmer Jones did not drink so much beer and make so much merry as Napoleon did now-a-days; Farmer Jones never claimed divine and miraculous powers; and Farmer Jones, in spite of all his vices, did not have all the long-beard and strange-clad goats of nearby forests flocking to his feet to serve as medicine-goats. Like Benjamin, Clover, and Minimus, Moses the raven could not fail to see that Napoleon now considered Animal Farm his very own personal property and the animals nothing less than his personal slaves. They had heard him say that he held the title deeds to Animal Farm and all the animals that lived within it. Over and above everything else, they had seen him contradict all the rules in the books and all the promises he had ever made by trading with humans, sleeping in beds, wearing Jones’ flamboyant tails and ties, walking on two legs, and wearing colorful ribbons to his tail, among many other outrageous extremes. Eventually, they had seen him abolish “Beasts of England” the anthem of the anti-Jones rebellion, and change the name Animal Farm back to its original name, the Manor Farm and then to Nap’s Farm. Thus, it was from Manor Farm to Manor Farm to Nap’s Farm. The wheel of fortune had gone full circle for the lower animals and in spite of themselves, they increasingly saw through the gross inconsistencies of Comrade Napoleon and his fellow pigs. Happily, Squealer had grown so fat that he was fast losing his honey-coated voice and could now only croak “Lort Naple is the beast”, a mispronouncement for which he once received a hard slap and a sharp rebuke from one of Napoleon’s top dogs. Unhappily however, some of the lesser pigs and animals had absolutely mastered the art of puppetry, their sole occupation in the course of time being always to be there when Napoleon delivered his flamboyant exhortations on the virtues of sacrifice and squealing and shrieking and clapping and crying ‘poleon! at every word. But there were also many angry animals, and these expressed their disgust at Napoleon in every imaginable and unimaginable manner. Yes, the weak also have their weapons; and when the powerful set out to oppress them, they must remember that the weak also have their weapons. So sang the birds of Animal Farm. 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