This year, Sheru sacrificed two bulls (daand) on Eid-ul-Azha.
It reminded him of a meeting he had with a pro-India politician who called on him at the Press Enclave a few years ago.
Sheru then was at his “worst.”
The bullish (not in the stock market sense) politician wanted media coverage for his party.
Sheru asked what party he had chosen to do democracy with in this neglected land.
The politician named a party, and Jhelum, sorry Sheru, burst its banks. “Your party will not get even a centimeter of space in this newspaper as long as Sheru is here.”
The politician did not even blink.
“Why? Is this a Pakistani newspaper?”
“Yes, it is Pakistan’s newspaper.”
Sheru’s love for Pakistan is too well known, and yet the politician appeared to have had no clue.
He knew not what to say.
He had expected Sheru to be deflated at the mention of Pakistan.
He gave Sheru a curious look, which Sheru shrugged off.
Sheru asked him to leave, and he did.
But the bullish politician was mulish as well. He returned.
“Sir, I request your good self to honour a function at our headquarters on Saturday. We expect a guest from New Delhi. He will be pleased to interact with you. Later, we will have lunch together.”
“I am not a vegetarian.”
The politician had thought Sheru would be easy to deal with.
“Our Indian guest is also not a vegetarian. We will have full wazwaan.”
“I do not take mutton either. I take beef. If you cook beef, I will be glad to share the dais with your guest from India.”
The bull knew that he had been gored.
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