Rajnath Singh: Whose home is it anyway?

For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground

And tell sad stories of the death of kings;

How some have been deposed; some slain in war,

Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;

Some poison'd by their wives: some sleeping kill'd;

All murder'd: for within the hollow crown

That rounds the mortal temples of a king

Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits...

- The Life and Death of Richard II, W. Shakespeare

Poor Rajnath has no dominion over who SITs in his home anymore. The door is wide open and the guests just keep inviting themselves in. A curious lot has been trooping through lately. Some are afflicted with a propensity to spontaneously combust: sons and mothers with a love of the news alike. Others just don’t like the chai-paani they’re offered, and froth at the mouth. Others have a very odd way of catching trains: from the front end. Others make their beds and lie in it so long they oversleep life itself. Others are affected with alcohol poisoning with no access to alcohol, you know, like chikungunya with no chickens. It happens. Others have in-law problems. Why just the other day, almost-like-a-sister former MP CM Uma Bharti received an invitation home to tea, and she hastily declined. Sources say she has not been drinking water for a few weeks now and has taken to bathing in cow urine, because the only thing you can be sure of in MP, is that only whatever the cow is eating and drinking, is safe any longer. The ISI is considering adopting the COW MARK guarantee of safety for MP, which basically means the product has already passed through the intestine of a cow, and hence humans may well, in fact, survive it. He’s told you the court monitors the STFU probe - there is the court-appointed officer at the door clicking the bodies as they go on his People Counter. So there’s no need to panic. No need at all. Calm down. Come into my parlour (said the spider to the fly) for some chai-paani. I hope you brought it.