Wednesday, May 14, 2014

From the Desk of Raghuram Rajan

(We were all impressed by that cute little ten year old who had the gumption to send Raghuram Rajan, the RBI governor, a letter with twenty dollars and got an interview with the BBC and a visit to RBI HQ in return. Yeah, this is totally not a contrived and manipulative story at all! Everything was just a coincidence! However, our secret correspondent, Subramanian Swamy, found the original letter that the governor wanted to send in the trash outside the RBI building and mailed it to us for immediate publication. We have faithfully reproduced the contents below.)

Dear 10 Year Old Girl With A Weird Fucking Name,

Thank you for sending the twenty dollars to help recover the country’s economy. It was really nice of you to do so. According to the rules and regulations of the RBI, I’m supposed to return the money to you. But, you know what? I’m fucking keeping it. Not because it makes any difference to the country’s economy, but because I hope this will be a lesson to other entitled assholes like you.

You think twenty dollars will make a difference to one of the world’s largest economies? Who do you think we are, Bhutan? Twenty dollars won’t even cover the cost of sending you this fucking letter. You know how much this letter costs? The time I have spent reading your letter plus the time I spent dictating this letter multiplied by the time it took to type, print and mail it to your stupid ass cost more than you can ever fucking fathom, you tiny, tiny idiot. I’m Raghuram Fucking Rajan and I crush idiots like you before breakfast everyday.

You think it’s cute that you broke your shitty piggy bank and sent me a few grubby coins, Oliver Twist? You think I’d go like awww and make you famous you little famewhore? You think I’d become your penpal? Send patient answers to your dumb questions that can be resolved with a ten second google search? Nope. Not going to happen. You’ll have to get famous the same way untalented little princesses like you become famous: by making a sex tape. I’m Raghuram Fucking Rajan, the demon banker of Dalal Street and I don’t give a flying fuck.

You know what my Dad would have done if I would want to pull a stunt like that? Punched me in the face and sent me to my room with no dinner. And what did your parents do? Encourage you to send me a letter! Who the fuck do they think I am? Santa fucking Claus? You thought you’d send me a letter and I’d send you something cute back and then you’ll have an anecdote to tell at cocktail parties and college essays? Well, them them this. Tell them that Raghuram Fucking Rajan, the best damn governor the RBI has ever seen, thinks that you’re an obnoxious little punk. When you write your college essay, tell them that you’re so dense that you thought sending a letter on cutesy stationery to the man who chokes the life out of currency manipulators with his own bare hands was a good idea.

I’m the George Clooney of governance. I am to monetary policy what Mary Mark is to underwear modelling. I am the Harry Styles of high finance. The Ryan Gosling of repo rates. I am to the supply curve what Sean Penn is to activism. I am Raghuram Fucking Rajan. I shit bricks of gold reserves. I can make or break more lives than you can imagine. I am a fucking god. Worship me. Seek my wise counsel. Hire me to bring back the economy from the ninth circle of hell. Lie down at my feet in the hope that some intelligence rubs off on you. But don’t ever talk to me like I’m your friend.

This is not over. You think I’m going to stop bothering you after I write this letter? Think again. You’re now my enemy for life. I’m going to spend all the free time I have plotting your downfall. You think I’d let you off because you’re just ten years old? Think again, sucka. That’s just going to make me work harder. I’m going to be watching you. I’m going to pay people to watch you. I’m going to make your life so fucking miserable that you will spend every  day, every hour, every minute, every second of your life rueing the moment you decided to send me that letter. I’m going to crush every hope, every dream, every source of happiness that you will ever have. I’m going to make you feel so helpless that you’re going to pray to your god everyday for the sweet release of death.

I’m coming for you, you puny little asshole.

I’m Raghuram Fucking Rajan. Don’t write me a fucking letter.

8 comments:

Chennakeshav Shenoy said...

Made me laugh so hard people in the office thought i had finally had a meltdown. It is so hilarious i am wiping my tears as i write this comment. This should be all over the place - facebook - twitter - even google+ (perhaps it will get some traffic)

Great stuff - respect!

Mr Holmes said...

Motherfucking Brilliant. You wrote what I was feeling when I was reading that letter.

smirk_ninja said...

Inspired by the letter above, am planning to send 1 kitchen knife to help save the country from terrorism. Just worried about the guy am sending it to, might take it positively.

Orate Fucking Docast said...

what a crappy post!! Someone people are so jobless!!

Louis Litt said...

This feels like it was said by Louis Litt....Was it intentional?

nefertiti said...

I am a big fan of your articles and I follow your blog regularly. One of the reasons i like it your wry sense of humour which is usually witty, sarcastic but not cruel. However, I must say this post left me slightly shocked because it hurt my sensibilities. May be we have become too cynical a nation after all...

Pappu Smartphone said...

This gratifies me

priloza said...

Thank you for writing this. You are the Tom Cruise of Blogspot (The early MI ones not the Knight and Day one).

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