It was a Hand!

I’d been told I’d never seenit before. It had arrived at the Indian port late at night, and the captain who I luckily knew had asked me if I was interested in having a look at it, “You mean this Hand travelled all by itself?” I asked, and the captain nodded. I looked at the door of the first-class cabin, “And it’s travelled in style!” I said more to myself, but the captain who heard me above the din and bustle of the ship nodded, “It’s always travelled in a classy way,” he smiled.

“You’ve had it travelling with you before?” I asked, and the captain nodded, “Last year during the US elections, and was received by Clinton!”

“Hilary?” I asked surprised.

“Yes!” she came on board and escorted it to the newspaper offices, and after she lost the elections, she blamed the Hand!”

“Yes,” I remember,” I said, “She said Russia’s hand in her election had made her lose!”  

We knocked, the door opened and the Hand stood all by itself inside.“You’re not Russian!” I said looking with astonishment at the handsome Foreign Hand wearing the traditional attire of Pakistan.

“I can be all things to all people, and some things to some people!” said the Hand, “Today I have been invited here as a Pakistani Hand!”

“Who invited you?” I asked brusquely.

“Your Prime Minister himself!” smiled the handsome Foreign Hand.

“But why would he call you?” I stammered, “He’s not too fond of the country you come from?”

“Well he seemed to need my help in the elections he’s fighting in his home state!” said the Foreign Hand, “Didn’t you read your newspapers?He said Pakistan is working with Rahul Gandhi to fix the elections!”

“The foreign hand!” I mused.

“Usually used in desperate circumstances!” smiled the Hand, “Everybody loves a conspiracyaccusation! World leaders use me all the time, especially when they want to get their people to forget their immediate problems and focus instead on some bogey enemy threat…”

“Foreign interfering Hand!” I said immediately as the Hand smiled.“Will you be staying awhile?”

“I guess till the Gujarat elections are over!” said the Hand.

I put out my hand to shake his, but found there was nothing there, “Whoa! Whoa!” I said, “You are a ghost?”

“I am a fantasy!” said the Hand, “I take the shape of whatever I am supposed to be. Today I am Pakistani, last year I was Russian, very often I become Chinese and world leaders mould me, craft me to whatever fearful shape they want to imposeon their people!”

The cell phone rang in the cabin and the Foreign Hand picked it up, “Yes Theresa, I’ll come to London! Sure, I can come looking like a terrorist!”

I walked away in disgust as the Foreign Hand instructed the captain to take him to Gujarat..! 

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