Taking a tip from some very, very senior and highly respected journalists and some very, very senior but not as highly respected news anchors, I have decided to write nice things about NarendraModi from now onwards — just in case he does become Prime Minister of India (gulp). I still have Amitbhai Shah’s Muzaffarnagar speech about revenge being the only answer ringing in my ears — I can’t ever forget that Amitbhai is Modi’s hatchet-wielding right-hand man.
I ’ve been searching very hard, but I haven’t caught sight of the alleged Modi wave yet. Which is why I still don’t have a clue just who India’s next Prime Minister will be.
It’s not difficult at all to be a politician in India these days. Anyone can do it. Just follow these tips, and you will do just fine:
Use every opportunity to talk about your humble/middle class/tragic background
The nation has finally discovered that AAP stands for Alphonso Aadmi Party – there’s absolutely nothing aam about some of its ministers: Law Minister Somnath Bharti, in particular, attacking and publically humiliating African women because their prudish neighbours made shocking remarks about them (these people are not like us, they wear short skirts, their food smells, they are drug addicts and sex workers, and so on) is just not done. Particularly after the Delhi Police refused to make arrests without a warrant.
When it comes to Arvind Kejriwal, I’m not a fan. I never have been, and most likely never will be.
This was the most entertaining year ever – so many of our politicians made us laugh till our sides ached.
I’m not thinking about global warming and rising sea levels these days. I’m more concerned about the rising levels of noise pollution in the run-up to the 2014 general election.
I have often wondered how couples who support ideologically different parties manage to live together.
If you’re as annoyed as I am about the opposition parties (well, mainly the BJP) causing frequent disruptions in Parliament, here’s information that will make your hair turn as whi
After expressing scorn and outrage over political issues on Twitter for about two years, I’ve decided to retire while still relatively unhurt and stick to writing about safer subjects – say, posting dead boring details about my meals.
For example, “Had fab, melty cheese-chorizo omelette for breakfast with crunchy French fries.”
Not going to Goa. I am sick — of Modi. Refuse to stand beside Rajnath as he declares that upstart Campaign Committee Chief (CCC) of my beloved party. Tried to get Gadkari on my side but he refused. He’s still sulking with me because I ruined his chances of being PM. Come on, as if Fatso will be able to fit into the PM’s chair!
Called the press and informed them I am indisposed — the nation must know when a great leader sneezes. Uma has called in sick too, and Yashwant has made a cheap excuse — rats ate the engine of the plane he was booked on, or some such rubbish.
I have never understood why many Indians believe that the West is the best. I know I’d die of a broken heart if I had to live away from this country for over a month. It’s not the food I’d miss (I could just as well cook it myself if push comes to shove), it’s the live entertainment that even the best comedy acts in the US and UK cannot match.