Many have read the story of how a lady in a burqa was noticed moving suspiciously outside Osama’s tent settled amidst rocks and hills and wilderness on a bright afternoon. Her movements raised suspicions and one minion alerted the sheikh. She was searched and a sat phone was found on her, which apparently she was using at that time as it was very warm. The sheikh and all his men along-with a journalist from Pakistaaaan who was a visitor left immediately. Within fifteen minutes, the fortified tent was blown into the Afghan wilderness by a mortar attack.
Another story that is just as popular, is that the Americans pointed to a few guys to Pakistaaaaan and asked them to track these guys and let them know. One such guy was around 52, 6’5” and a bit frail, wearing the trademark turban and robes and shawl walking with the help of a staff. He had a companion who had a few AK 47’s slung around his fat shoulders and one ready in his hands, ready to fire. He also held a strong rope at the end of which a horse, an ass and a fat goat following. The tall guy would walk at times and at other times he would ride the horse.
Over steep terrain he would use the ass. The Pakistaaaanis were tracking him and found his gait and frame and visage very familiar. They had heard of a sheikh who had shaken America and wondered if this was the guy who they were looking for. The tall guy would stop at times for a rest and the fat Friday would milk the goat and they would break bread before resting a while. They would converse at times, otherwise they continued on their way diligently, silently. At some time the followers felt that he threw a knowing smile across to them and waved. Wow they thought!
Now this routine went on for long miles, vales, valleys hills before they reached the Karakoram pass. The twosome stopped had some goat milk and and this time the tall guy got on to the ass to cross the pass.
The alert Pakistaaaaaan got a fit. What if they crossed over? Who are these guys, and if this guy was he, then They should be told this was he. The ISI chief asked Saeed who checked with Zawahiri who replied in the affirmative that this was indeed the sheikh.
The stalkers alerted the Them who in turn alerted the other Them who confirmed that they were on the way. What took days to cover was covered in a few minutes and a chopper landed with seals coming out of the metal work. They let go a blast at the feet of the ISI chief who was following the tall guy.
“What? How dare you?” screamed the chief who was usually used to feeding on freely available imported goodies. “You lucky guys” growled one seal, “you should have been finished by your eastern neighbors in’1965 and 1971, but they were dumb to let you go and they have dumber guys like Digvijay and Singhal and despite all these acts of kindness and our charity on which you survive you can’t live an honorable life! We knew you could do nothing right and were testing your integrity”
“Ya a a ah Khudaa mujhe baksh de! Main, Main Babar ka pota hun.Main tera khoon pee jaonga!!” ‘You, you,you infidelity personifications! You dare to insult me?” screamed the ISI.
The seal let go a shrill whistle and the tall guy jumped onto his horse and came galloping at haste. He took off his turban and under it shone the bald pate and the smiling visage of Tony Greig, Maradona following, ready to fire! "You cant even solve a fixed match" growled the seal.
No comments:
Post a Comment