And now, as promised, the thing you?ve been hankering for: an update on my health. After riffling through the results of the last round of tests, tourniqueting my biceps sostenuto, and applying a hammer to my knees, the doctor did a hop, skip and jump around the room, pronounced me sound as a Stradivarius, and then practically kicked me out of his chamber. And all because the new medication had reduced my soaring BP by a hundred.

His verdict, was as bad as a sentence however. Wagging a finger at the ceiling, he pronounced I would have to cease to eat, drink, or preferably, breathe. In real terms, that meant no more rogan josh, no rum, no desi Rothmans (as if!). Which more or less rules out living, don?t you think?

But he ignored my ankle as a cause of concern. I don?t like that. And I?ll tell you why, before I go quietly insane. What?s the point of having an angelic BP when, at the root of things is my cloven hoof? I?m the introspective kind but while other sages contemplate their navels, I delve lower ? right down to my foot (the left foot, the creative one, as Daniel Day Lewis would testify). Here, in the region between the toes and the shin, there?s an angry black hump that refuses to go away after a rather painful, unidentifiable-insect bite a month ago.

My ailment should correctly startle civilisation, but no one gives a bee-sting. Some day, scientists will be sorry. Here they are, confronted everyday with earth-shattering findings about the fruit fly and yet, they persist in closing their eyes to the truth: we are being invaded by creatures very much like us ? but not like us, if you know what I mean.

Increasingly in the news are facts about how the fruit fly has more in common with us than a general gladness that the mango season is here. Our mating habits are the same; we are often unwanted guests at meals; and today, even as we speak, we learn that our circadian rhythms match.

Goodness me, isn?t it obvious? They?re so identical to us, they want to be us, enter our beings, take over our minds, and finally use us to take over our world. I?m convinced a fruit fly has entered my foot and is at this very moment raising families and assembling armies which will multiply and go forth (completely reversing the Biblical order) on their evil mission. Shouldn?t the doctor do something about it now?

On second thoughts, if the fruit fly is enjoying the sex, rest and recreation I do, it isn?t getting much of a life. So maybe I?ll just let it be.