Greetings from an old friend! Hope this letter finds you in the best of your health and humor. I am sure that your appearance on television has made all your friends as happy as it has made me.
My friend, the reason you are being celebrated is not important. What matters is that the entire nation saw you and heard you on prime-time television. What an awesome sight you were! I tell you, those words you spoke – so matter-of-factly, so confidently – absolutely nothing could even as much as attempt to suppress them. There was something about the camera, which had got fixed on your sinister smile as you spoke those abso-damn-lutely striking words!
I recall you having said, “I don’t care! Why should I? They should learn to drive safely. I am not responsible for their incompetence...” Stunning, my man! You were simply sizzling!
“If only they had,” you had continued in the face of the camera, “mastered the art of swerving their vehicles clear of the obvious little obstacles without causing a major roadblock, they would never have to complain about a thing!” I say! You were pounding the audience with one revelation after another. You were unstoppable.
The press indeed did a laudable job of pushing a great soul like you into the limelight. You deserved it. So what if a southbound express bus had collided into a northbound tourist car? What if five individuals had been immediately transported to meet their maker? What if seven others had come oh-so-close to bidding farewell to their miserable existence on earth? Why should it bother you? Why should the press care?
Dead men tell no tales. The injured had been rushed to a hospital kilometers away from the location, and hence were indisposed at the moment. The driver of the express bus had vanished, as drivers of express buses are normally expected to, immediately after the incident. Therefore, the only source of information the press had was you, and you didn’t mind. They made you their hero for the evening.
This is a secular, democratic republic. You have rights in this country. Yes, you have every right to come driving a JCB or a Quick Concrete Mixer on wheels, to park it in the middle of the busy National Highway, and to pop out for a steaming cup at the roadside tea shack. After all, your vehicle can take good care of itself. Let the rest of the world worry about themselves, or better still, let them try out the practical curriculum at swerving free of the ‘little obstacle’ that you had so considerately left behind for them.
Congratulations, Ganesh, my friend! You seem to have struck the right chords with our press. You gave them an interesting story to broadcast, and they made you a celebrity in return. You have learnt, and taught us all, the ultimate formula that leads to definite fame.
Many thanks and regards,
(Signature and Name)