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LuckOfTheDraw also further warrants that this work is purely a work of the imagination, intended only and solely as Humor and Satire. No offence, hurt or harm of any kind whatsoever is intended to any person's sensibilities, be they nationalistic, political personal, or of any other form.
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Press Report: Asked about the "deal" which she inked with President Pervez Musharaff, Benazir Bhutto allegedly replied: "Pakistan is constructing a new future and President Musharaff is the tool that has made it possible."
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President Pervez Musharraf sat in the comfort of PAF One and gazed pensively out of the window. He was on his way to have yet another meeting in Dubai with the head of the Pakistan People's Party, Benazir Bhutto; on his way to make yet another attempt at striking a deal that would allow him to remain in power and for her to return to Pakistan as the Prime Minister. What made these meetings so damnably frustrating was her insistence that he "shed his uniform" if he wanted to remain President. He was a soldier through and through, a commando in fact, and he often boasted that his uniform was his "second skin". But all to no avail; she remained as obdurate as ever. So, no deal.
He had met her in London, he had met her in Washington, he had met her in Zurich. He'd even met her in Paris, in May, in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. He'd wondered why on earth he was wasting his time, because the meetings were always like a rerun of an old and unpopular movie. His wife Sehba seemed to feel the same way; and had archly remarked just before his departure that perhaps it was meeting her that had had become more important rather than the deal itself. He had gruffly dismissed the possibility of course, but her demure smile remained.
Now, as he gazed at the sparkling waters of the Persian Gulf far below, he suddenly realized that Benazir was indeed an extremely attractive woman. I must be getting too involved with my work, he thought to himself, to have not noticed or thought about it. Her perfect complexion, fair skin, oval face tending just a little to a heart shape, large lustrous expressive eyes, and above all, her luscious full lips were everything a virile man could desire. Her hair was thick and shining, and he recalled that her figure - even when hidden behind the voluminous folds of her shalwar kameez - was obviously still well-preserved and lush. Come to think of it, he had never bothered to read her dossier, which were part of the papers for every meeting he'd had with her. On a sudden impulse, he picked up the docket lying on the table in front of him and leafed rapidly though it.
Yes, there it was, a comprehensive backgrounder. With photographs. As he turned the pages, Musharaff's eyes widened. There was a photograph of the younger Benazir in a white microskirt, sitting in a chair with legs crossed, showing an incredible amount of skin, nearly all the way up. Some more photographs, all in the same category. Her husband was one lucky man, Musharaff realized. No wonder he'd always kept her pregnant, even when she was in power, leading to the jibe that her party - the PPP - was the Pregnant PM's Party! Her nickname was Pinky, as he'd known. Pinky, eh? Well, maybe he'd find out the truth of that, he smiled to himself.
So perhaps he'd been taking the wrong approach, talking down to her as the President of Pakistan and the Chief of Army Staff. Treating her as just another politician, another Nawaz Sharif even. Maybe the way to win the deal was to talk to her as man to woman. He was no stranger to that, had been reputed as the king stud in the Army in the old days, and Sehba even these days said she always needed to keep a weather eye skinned. He'd surprise her by coming across as relaxed and full of humor, he decided. Pull her leg, shock her a bit, and let's see how she responds.
PAF One touched down soon afterwards, and after the usual welcome reception and other elaborate formalities, Musharaff found himself being driven to the Emir's palace. Usually he basked in the sheer sense of power and ego that an overseas visit always engendered, but on this occasion he had sensed himself impatient with the welcome ritual. He was impatient to see Benazir, he realized. And now just to seal the deal.
As always, a one-on-one had been scheduled immediately after the initial photo-op meeting with aides present. When the aides left the room, he turned to her to find her eyebrows lifted slightly and an amused smile playing on her parted lips. She was dressed in a soft pink kameez and a white embroidered shalwar, her lips were painted a bright shiny red a, and her eyes lined delicately and stylishly with mascara. She looked good enough to eat, he decided, and maybe that was just what she wanted him to do.
"I really prefer an informal personal meeting." he smiled.
"So do I." she replied. "so very much more.." she paused. "Meaningful".
He was intrigued by the pause and the way she had looked straight at him with her lips parted. He decided to introduce a humorous note, a la Reagan, he thought. The Great Gipper!
"Although some of these official do's can be fun. Unusually so." he continued."The other day I had hosted a reception for the visiting South Korean head of state. My wife asked the South Korean ambassador, And when did you have your last election, Your Excellency? He was silent for a second and then replied, Befole blekfast! Ha ha!" Musharaff chortled.
Benazir joined in the laughter. She had a good unselfconscious full throated laugh.
"That's a really old chestnut, Pervez." she smiled.
The use of the first name took him aback. But he was not a commando for nothing.
"So we share a sense of humour, Pinky?" he said laughingly."But do you know, I thought he had a twinkle in his eyes."
'Maybe Sehba did too" she replied deadpan.
She laughed again at the dumbfounded expression on his face.
"Just teasing, Pervez." she smiled again. Her eyes were very dark and luminous now. " But your autobiography says that you're no beginner when it comes to teasing and practical jokes."
"That's again something we share." he responded with a grin." I'm beginning to wonder if there's more to come."
"Why don't we surprise each other?" she laughed again.
Just then there was a knock on the door. An aide peered respectfully in.
"Just another couple of minutes" said Musharaff. The aide withdrew and the door shut again.
