Not only does nothing actually work, nothing appears to be working either; whereafter, leave alone even pretending to remedy all this, our rulers actually flaunt it brazenly as a virtue. Ordinarily it would be unbelievable to read descriptions of lawyers engaging in lawless fisticuffs, if one did not actually witness them in such pursuits. The sheer mindlessness of our preoccupations is frightening; it would be hilarious only if it were not real, and only if it did not provide a cruel commentary on our times.

Our 'youthful' prime minister, having saved the whales (alias dolphins) of Lakshwadeep, whereafter abandoning the Vice-President of India and the farmers of Meerut, chose one idle afternoon to rescue Afghanistan. He began this effort by first searching for an Afghanistan policy. Being a 21st century technology buff, naturally enough, he did so by making a telephone call to General Zia. Of course, he came a cropper, because it was a wrong number, which too would not matter overmuch if this telephone diplomacy did not amount to one of the most humiliating rebuffs that we have faced since the Rabbat Islamic Conference of the 1960s.

Even as we were regaining our breath from this blow in the solar plexus, our prime minister produced yet another rabbit — this time another quick-fix save-Punjab solution. He released various mediaeval looking Granthis, who are recognised by none other than those whom we still dub as terrorists, thereby, finally extinguishing this pretence of keeping religion separated from politics.

Not content with these two brilliant examples of statecraft — in the realm of foreign affairs and in the management of our domestic polity — the prime minister then demon-strated his parliamentary skills, and engaged in a display of wit: he termed his parliamen-tary colleagues in the opposition "jokers", and called a distinguished member "Croucho". Nothing much wrong with that kind of language; after all, you can only speak as you think, except for where it is used. Schoolboy slang is best left behind at school, unless of course, you do not grow out of it. This flippancy of approach and utterance does eminent justice to our prime minister's personality, but not, alas, to the high office that he holds. Were that not so, we might be convulsed with merriment at these feeble attempts at humour; and if we are not, it is only because the angst of our times burns us.

The one principal quality (amongst many others), which it now becomes apparent Rajiv Gandhi lacks is natural dignity. It is not a vital ingredient; nevertheless a useful attribute for ministers/politicians and other such ritualists to have. All this might be based on an illusion, rather a lingering belief that political leaders ought to have ideas. (It being admittedly difficult for vacant minds to look preoccupiedly dignified.)