“Jeeves, I have just returned from the Drones, and there is total confusion. The members apparently saw on TV that some Indian chappie is becoming the PM.”
“Sir, It is confusing no doubt but please permit me to make a correction, an Englishman of Indian origin.”
At times Jeeves can truly make the ganglions jar. I was starting to get one of those headaches which are normally caused by having one too many.
“Jeeves, one is either English or Indian. I have not heard of an Englishman of Indian origin. At times talking to you, Jeeves, please do not take offense, you speak in riddles that makes the brain go numb. Once the numbness recedes, it is replaced by a headache that only one of your 'pick me ups' can remove. I again would like to state, you are either English or Indian.”
“Sir, as we can see, the times have changed, today it is possible to be English but of an origin of another country.”
“Jeeves, again the severity of the head throbbing is increasing. Be kind enough to make it simple.”
After his usual gentle cough, Jeeves went into full flow, “Sir, the incumbent Prime Minister has had parents who migrated to England from India and became English. The PM-to-be was born here and so the sobriquet, an Englishman of Indian origin.”
“So Jeeves, tomorrow a Frenchman who comes to England and settled down here will be English of French origin.”
“Precisely Sir, I am glad you have grasped this complicated issue with such consummate ease.”
“Hold on , hold on, this frog will then have to speak English.”
“Absolutely Sir.”
“So this Indian chappie speaks the Queens English?”
“Certainly sir, I have heard him speak so well, with such good diction that an English man of English origin will be put to shame.”
“Jeeves , once again the head throbs violently . What is this about an Englishman of English origin?”
“Sir, an Englishman whose parents for several generations have been in England.”
Frankly this was getting beyond me. Discussing Newts with Gussie was far easier. “Jeeves come to the point. Will our country be in safe hands?”
“No doubt sir, I have no doubts. The PM-to-be is impeccably dressed and groomed. His tie is knotted with such perfection that one can say that it is flawless. He sports no moustache and above all I have yet to see one accessory or garment having a bright hue that is hurtful to the eye. I can describe in length about his shoes and socks but will stop here. The country is in safe hands.”
“Thank you Jeeves, you put my mind at ease. Please a stiffish whisky and soda. I need to calm the ganglions which are all a-flutter. If you could be so kind.”
“Certainly Sir. I do hope you will not take umbrage at the fact that all pink shirts have been returned to Peabody and Simms. I have retained only the whites.”
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