INDIA’S NEXT PM
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. Here’s a random list of a few of the likely candidates, and my thoughts on how the country will flourish under their leadership.
Parliament will be held at Jantar Mantar. The monsoon session will always be a washout.
When the price of onions soars, the PM will go on a fast. This symbolic gesture may not bring the prices down but at least there will be one less mouth to feed onion bhajjiyas to.
Ink will be banned in the nation, lest some disgruntled soul wishes to splash it on members of the ruling party.
Urban, educated India will get new-age khap panchayats called Mohalla Sabhas. Neighbours can gang up and decide whether to throw people into jail for drinking, smoking, eating Thai green curry, wearing red lipstick, flushing their potties after 10 pm – heck, anything at all!
The Indian Institute of Dermatology will get bigger grants, since Rahul Baba’s cheeks will be scarred after all that affectionate pinching by sundry aunties.
Hundreds of biographies will be written by hundreds of writers. Half of them will be called Power is Poison and the other half Power is not Poison.’
Women will expect to be empowered as this was one of his main promises. If that doesn’t happen, bottles of ink might be splashed on his pristine white kurtas. Turmeric and chilli powder, too.
A lot of baby boys will be named Rahul during his term. While not such a bad thing, they will curse him when they grow up to find they have to make do with cumbersome email IDs like email@example.com
India will have to import vegetables, cereals and so on since almost all of the nation’s agricultural land will be handed to corporate houses at around Re 1 per square metre. If we’re really starving, we can eat cars. Nano meal,anyone?
The latest anti-rape law will be amended: stalking will not be a punishable offence anymore. This will make Bollywood dance with joy, as producers/directors/actors won’t have to shamefacedly defend films that romanticize stalking.
Journalists and political analysts will be reduced to taking dictation from lowly PR chappies. The CBI will have company—it won’t be the only caged parrot around.
The history of India will be rewritten as a comedy. We may even discover that the Rani of Jhansi was a man in disguise since no woman is capable of doing anything apart from fasting, cooking and producing babies.
India will be richer than before, as Our Beloved Didi’s paintings will be sold to visiting presidents, prime ministers, diplomats and so on. Or else no business will be done with them. So there!
Yo Yo Honey Singh may have to get a job as an accountant in an office. Rabindra Sangeet will possibly replace his brutish yowls in Bollywood flicks.
India will threaten to go to war with every nation that dares to criticise Our Beloved Didi.
We will all prudently keep photographs of our Beloved Didi in our homes, wallets, and on our car dashboards, just like the TMC chappies do. Of course, we’ll have a range of engaging poses to choose from: Our Beloved Didi smiling/frowning/looking pensive/waving regally.
1. India will not be allowed to play cricket with Sri Lanka.
2. Idlis will become the cheapest and most popular street food in India.
3. Stubborn North India will create the world’s very first aloo-tikki idli. Hey, if they could do it to McDonald’s, they can just as well do it to Amma.
4. Just before Amma’s term is over, we will all get free ceiling fans with her mug shot, smiling benignly down upon us.