So there I was on an afternoon towards the end of the 70s doing the only thing that mattered in the universe: practising sapsiwaye with my no 5. football. I suddenly noticed a big black car parking on the sidewalk near our gate. I recognised the taillight of BR111, a Series 7 BMW. It was an easy guess as there weren't more than a handful of them around in those days. I kept on bouncing my football while expecting a policeman or government official to spring out of it with some important papers for my dad. The usual kind of stuff.
I was slightly surprised when I saw SSR himself emerging from his car and walking up alone the 25 or so metres of tarred alley that separated us. All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. What is he doing here at this time of the day? Would he care for a game of pike-bare? The other thing I was wondering was how I should greet the Prime Minister in what was turning out to be a one-on-one encounter. Should I go for the regular 'uncle' or should I favour the kind of stiff walking I'd seen the chief of protocol do on TV? And I had stopped bouncing the ball because I wasn't sure if it was OK to bounce a football within a few metres of the Prime Minister's face.
I don't remember exactly how I finally greeted him but I do remember what he asked me: to papa kote? To which I answered that he's not well today and he's resting in my room. And I told him to wait where he was for a minute while I open the big sliding doors of our living room. He told me that this would be unnecessary and he preferred to follow me.
So he did and I walked a few feet in front of him at his pace and with my ball in one hand. Given that I also had to tell my dad that he was going to have a visitor I ran up the flight of stairs so as to distance the old man enough. I got into the room and with some trepidation told my dad who, you would have guessed, was not in an Armani suit: "Ramgoolam inn vinn get twa". He was surprised and asked me where the guy was. "Li pe monte leskalyer li pe vini la". He had just enough time to pull the bedsheet over him and a few seconds later SSR got into the room and greeted him with a "Kher, to pann vinn travaye zordi?".
I was asked to get a chair for our visitor and left them chatting wondering why my dad didn't go to work when he seemed to be in an olympic form.
I was slightly surprised when I saw SSR himself emerging from his car and walking up alone the 25 or so metres of tarred alley that separated us. All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind. What is he doing here at this time of the day? Would he care for a game of pike-bare? The other thing I was wondering was how I should greet the Prime Minister in what was turning out to be a one-on-one encounter. Should I go for the regular 'uncle' or should I favour the kind of stiff walking I'd seen the chief of protocol do on TV? And I had stopped bouncing the ball because I wasn't sure if it was OK to bounce a football within a few metres of the Prime Minister's face.
I don't remember exactly how I finally greeted him but I do remember what he asked me: to papa kote? To which I answered that he's not well today and he's resting in my room. And I told him to wait where he was for a minute while I open the big sliding doors of our living room. He told me that this would be unnecessary and he preferred to follow me.
So he did and I walked a few feet in front of him at his pace and with my ball in one hand. Given that I also had to tell my dad that he was going to have a visitor I ran up the flight of stairs so as to distance the old man enough. I got into the room and with some trepidation told my dad who, you would have guessed, was not in an Armani suit: "Ramgoolam inn vinn get twa". He was surprised and asked me where the guy was. "Li pe monte leskalyer li pe vini la". He had just enough time to pull the bedsheet over him and a few seconds later SSR got into the room and greeted him with a "Kher, to pann vinn travaye zordi?".
I was asked to get a chair for our visitor and left them chatting wondering why my dad didn't go to work when he seemed to be in an olympic form.
Was there something on which SSR and SKJ were not agreeing? SKJ had a strange way of expressing his dissenting opinion: remaining in bed.
ReplyDeletelooooooooool
My hunch is yes. Very strange indeed. Guess Le Pavillon was not available on that day.
ReplyDeletehaha. Pavillon no. But Guess Triveni Club yes.
ReplyDeleteLol. Ah, his biographers could pick this up as one of his major mistakes.
ReplyDeleteLol.Is a biography of this great man underway?
ReplyDeleteEventual biographers ;-)
ReplyDelete(Imagine) .... If the actual PM were to visit your dad, u would get VIPSU people's visit first - to check whether there are other people in the house, profile them in terms of how dangerous they are, place CCTVs, go on tops of neighbouring houses, etc. When he would have come, about 20 policemen in your yard, 15 on the streets,..it goes on.
ReplyDelete@kranti: Lol. You're probably right.
ReplyDeleteFed formally encouraging dissent.
ReplyDelete