While I’ve been grabbing headlines and scaling great heights of fame, my gora friends have escaped the British elections and come to stay with me in Bani Gala. In the evenings, all my desi hangers-on go home and I get to have some R&R with my true Brit friends. Our favourite pastime is to exchange limericks. Lucy Fitztightly goes first:

“Your speeches get longer and longer,

Their language gets stronger and stronger,

Your audiences cheer, your enemies jeer,

You must escape to London on a tonga.”

And then everyone urges me to have a go:

“There was once a prime minister from Lahore,

Who wanted to be in power forever more,

But he was rushed off his feet,

And thrown off his seat,

By me, the silly old bore.”

Then I’m struck by true inspiration and I have another go:

“There was once a maulana with a beard,

Who said, ‘it is just as I had feared!

Two owls and a hen,

Four parrots and a wren,

Have all built their nests in my beard’.”

It was Lucy’s turn again:

“There was a clever young student from McGill,

Who lit a dynamite stick for a thrill,

They found bits of his pants,

In far off Northants,

And his arms and legs in Brazil.”

By then the wife had joined us too. I was in the midst of my latest limerick:

“There was a young maid from Madras,

Who had a magnificent ass (er, here I saw the wife giving me daggers …)

Not rounded and pink, as you probably think,

It was grey, had long ears and ate grass.”

Phew! Enough limericks for the day …!

Im the Dim