The great Battle of Hogwarts that took place on May 2nd 1998 saw the end of Lord Voldemort – or so we thought. After biding his time in the dense forests of Europe for several years, He-Who-Has-Been-Named-Right-Above (still alive) resolved to start anew. On learning about the fanatical behaviour of Indians, he decided to apparate onto Indian soil to win for himself some undying and faithful followers.
At a recent press conference held at the country’s renowned Hotel Avadakedavra, Voldemort was polite enough to share his thoughts – “WHAT
ARE YOU POINTING AT ME?! CRUCIO!” he screamed at a reporter just as he entered. “After that Potter boy smashed my soul into smithereens”, he stated vehemently while the reporter thus injured was taken out on a stretcher, “I was nothing. None of my cowardly death eaters returned. They shall not be spared. To you Indians I say this – treat me well and you have nothing to fear. I seek your faith. Come to my side.”
For days he traveled far and traveled wide. And then, one afternoon, as he glided past the hot and sweltering muggle-infested streets, he noticed strange magic occurring at one particular retail store. Every muggle that entered was immediately flocked by a throng of keen followers. Lord Voldemort could hardly believe his slits! I mean eyes! Could this be it? The Dark Lord, the one everybody feared, noted mudblood murderer, transformed muggle lover!?
He at once blasted apart the auto rickshaws that lay on his way and strode into the store with his head held high. After a momentary gasp that filled the store, a group of awe-struck admirers surrounded him.
“I am The Dark Lord”, he thundered. “Indeed…” one of them squeaked, “Sir, kindly use our fairness cream!?”