The Secret Diary of Manmohan Singh, Aged 81¾

Excerpts from the secret diary of MMS. Details you didn’t know about Madam and the solidarity march

WrittenBy:Shovon Chowdhury
Date:
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Thursday
12th March, 2015

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It was early in the morning. The peacocks in my garden had just woken up. We were about to start playing remote-remote, when we heard a commotion outside. Gursharan went to the window. She parted the curtains and looked out.

“A large group of people seems to be marching towards our house,” she says.

I had always known that this day would come.

“Ram Din!” I shout. Ram Din, the gardener rushes in, and quickly removes all the files from my study. Sometimes, in the evenings, when there’s nothing on TV, I do some files. It reminds me of the old days. I like making notes in the margins.

Ram Din scoops them up and rushes into the garden. He rushes back and runs into the kitchen. He rushes out again, holding a small drum of kerosene and matches. “Bas, give me five minutes,” he says. There’s no time to lose. We have a set of bags packed and ready, but I try to assess the situation.

“Are they armed?” I ask Gursharan. “I don’t think so,” she says. She is upset with me. She was mortified when I was summoned in a court case. No one in her family has ever been fingered by the CBI. I tried to tell her that this is ridiculous. It’s so obvious that all of us are innocent.

I’m famous for honesty.

The Birlas have been in business for over one hundred years. Regarding Parakh, don’t even ask. I feel particularly sorry for Parakh. As member of the screening committee, he strongly opposed this proposal. As Coal Secretary, he strongly supported it. From this, we can see that he was not biased in any way. He was willing to see it from both sides.

Ram Din rushes back, very excited. “Sir, sir, it’s Madam!” he says. “Also Manish-Uncle and Kapil-Uncle, and Chidu-Uncle, and so many others. None of them are in cars. All of them are walking. Madam is walking in front. It’s like a protest march, but without the lathi charges.”

I can feel my head spinning. Can this be true? After all this time, Madam is coming to see me? At my house? That too, walking personally? On the ground?

Madam! She is coming! She has not forgotten me!

All this time I preserved the remote carefully, waiting for this day. She is walking. To. My. House.

My heart fills with joy. My eyes fill with tears. At my age, it’s too much for me. The world goes blank.

I wake up on the floor. I feel coolness on my cheeks. I look up to see Madam sprinkling eau de cologne. Kapil holds out his hand, and I struggle to my feet. “Rahul Baba?” I whisper. All of them look sad. This means he is still introspecting. I hope he finishes soon.

The current leader of the Congress, whose name I can never remember, slaps me on the shoulder. I think his name begins with a K. “Don’t worry, Uncle,” he says, “all of us are with you, except Pranab-da, who is busy in Rashtrapati Bhavan.”

I look around me. I am surrounded by sympathetic faces. It’s a long time since this has happened. The last time was when I suffered a knee injury in kindergarten. I am touched by their affection, and the warmth of their friendship. Is Chidu trying to give me a back rub? His hands are soft. His cologne is strong. “Shashi couldn’t come, but he sends his regards,” he says, “He said he’s with you hamesha.”

Ram Din comes in with tea, still smelling faintly of kerosene. My colleagues gently help me to a chair. Madam stands next to me, dabbing my forehead. I close my eyes, feeling her cool fingers on my brow. Ram Din waits patiently with the tray, not serving anyone else. “Don’t worry, Manmohan,” she says. “The whole Congress party is behind you.”

I am not reassured by this. Put yourself in my position. Would you like it if this bunch was standing behind you, where you can’t see them?

Kapil breaks the silence. His voice is booming. He is very happy these days. He has lots of cases. How happy his clients are, I have no idea. “Don’t worry, Manmohan,” he says, “as long as there is breath in my body, I’ll defend you.”

This is what I’m afraid of. It’s all in the hands of Kapil. I look at his smiling, confident face, and I feel a pang of fear.

Let’s hope his legal skills are better than his math skills.

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