PMOJI AND ME
PMOJI AND
ME
It was a lazy Sunday morning, the first of the New
Year, with the Sun, unusually, managing to bathe the landscape and the
structures in splendid sunlight, resulting in a peak winter time temperature of
26 degrees. I was also lazing around, thinking of such unusual
weather, climate change , odd even and such earthy and vital concerns of the
human race. Surely, it was a lazy Sunday and would have remained so had that
call not come, disturbing my half stupor and half contemplative mood.
The ringtone on my cell is one that is practical but pleasant. The one that disturbed my Sunday sounded impatient and serious. As i glanced across the screen, the true caller I’d the call to be originating from Delhi. An unknown number. Normally, I do not answer a call from an unknown number on a Sunday, particularly when I was worrying about saving the world. This call somehow seemed different. A part of me told that it is an important call, one which may bring good tidings. Another small part, which rarely wakes up, but is often right, cautioned me. I answered with a cautious hello.
A heavily accented voice having a kind of nasal tone answered “Hello. Am I ispeaking to Mr K A S Menonji" I did not let go easily “who is this “was my response. He sounded surprised that I did not recognise him . He replied" Oh! See Menonji , I am calling from Delhi, actually from the PMO".
Me: ” sorry, did not hear you. Can you repeat please"
He politely answered, repeating what he mentioned earlier.
“The what?” I blurted out. Still polite he emphasized. " Sirji PMO, the Prime Minister’s Office" . Now, am I ispeaking to Menonji?"
My incredulous voice managed to find words" hello hello , PMOji , sorry, what was your name , you have dialled the wrong person. Wrong number you see"
" Bhai sab, are you not Menonji? Mumbai cell number so and so" he sounded a trifle worried.
Now there are times when reality leaves you, your senses shut down and you have to rely on instinct. I was not ready for this.
My feeble reaction was" yes yes. I am Menonji, ah em , Menon yes surely. But it is K A S Menon. You see, the wrong guy. “
By now he had decided to shed his calmness. A somewhat irritated voice said “exactly that is the same person i want. So now let’s get to the reason I want to talk to you. You see, actually, we have been following you. I mean tracking you. We know your views about our PM expressed in the shocial media"
I was stunned. And terribly angry!
I yelled at him" what do you mean. Tracking. Checking my WA chats? You have no right. It’s illegal, I say!"
"Sirji , cool down cool down. Nothing to worry" was his week response. T continued to yell
“cool down! Do you know I have my rights! I live in a democratic country, in case you don't know. I will go to court”
Go to the media" I threatened, with full 56" chest!
The guy laughed. My anger moved a few notches up. He still laughed and had the audacity to needle me “ha ha it will not help. We will deny everything. No one will believe you"
He continued, now in a more serious tone " Menonji, listen to me. We mean no harm. All I wanted was to tell you that the Big man himself has invited you to accompany him on his next tour abroad " It was getting weirder second by second.
I decided to take control. I laughed for a change “eh. That's the best yarn i have heard this year! Next you may tell me that I won a huge Nigerian lottery! Good attempt PMOji. My apologies for not remembering your name in all this confusion"
He ignored my sarcasm. Went on “you see, the big man felt that he has to convince you about his ideas. There is no better way and place than his foreign farvanu time. So he want you to join him"
" Why me? I am an ordinary citizen with more ordinary views. He must have been wrongly advised. Even assuming all this is happening, he is surely wasting his time. Time he can usefully spent for the country in the company of Obama or Fidel Castro, for all care. Me! Ha! By the way tell him I like his sense of humour! “ Was the way I tried to reason with him. Continuing and wanting to end this joke of a call, I signalled “so that’s it. Nice, sorry, not so nice talking to you. You remain as PMOji. Let your name remain a National secret! Good by" Rude maybe but the guy deserved it.
He panicked “No no sirji. That’s not an option. He has to finalise his travel plans fast. It’s more than a week he has been in India. He has to move without wasting time. Worldly affairs are waiting for his intervention. His decision to have you is final. And you have to agree fast."
I wanted to tell him to take a jump from the South block or wherever he said he was from. But then a part of me, the big part, was now in a lighter frame of mind and decided to play along.
“Look PMOji, why don’t you reason out with him? Be a good bureaucrat. You know how to stall an idea. Tell him I am untraceable. Or even better, weak of mind. Whatever. Tell him it’s better to have that charming lady Sushmaji instead or that nice lady, who is your education minister, accompanying him. Tell him anything but get him to drop me like a hot potato" I will buy you a drink whenever we meet" I added.
He sounded unimpressed. The guy seemed to be on mission mode.
The ringtone on my cell is one that is practical but pleasant. The one that disturbed my Sunday sounded impatient and serious. As i glanced across the screen, the true caller I’d the call to be originating from Delhi. An unknown number. Normally, I do not answer a call from an unknown number on a Sunday, particularly when I was worrying about saving the world. This call somehow seemed different. A part of me told that it is an important call, one which may bring good tidings. Another small part, which rarely wakes up, but is often right, cautioned me. I answered with a cautious hello.
A heavily accented voice having a kind of nasal tone answered “Hello. Am I ispeaking to Mr K A S Menonji" I did not let go easily “who is this “was my response. He sounded surprised that I did not recognise him . He replied" Oh! See Menonji , I am calling from Delhi, actually from the PMO".
Me: ” sorry, did not hear you. Can you repeat please"
He politely answered, repeating what he mentioned earlier.
“The what?” I blurted out. Still polite he emphasized. " Sirji PMO, the Prime Minister’s Office" . Now, am I ispeaking to Menonji?"
My incredulous voice managed to find words" hello hello , PMOji , sorry, what was your name , you have dialled the wrong person. Wrong number you see"
" Bhai sab, are you not Menonji? Mumbai cell number so and so" he sounded a trifle worried.
Now there are times when reality leaves you, your senses shut down and you have to rely on instinct. I was not ready for this.
My feeble reaction was" yes yes. I am Menonji, ah em , Menon yes surely. But it is K A S Menon. You see, the wrong guy. “
By now he had decided to shed his calmness. A somewhat irritated voice said “exactly that is the same person i want. So now let’s get to the reason I want to talk to you. You see, actually, we have been following you. I mean tracking you. We know your views about our PM expressed in the shocial media"
I was stunned. And terribly angry!
I yelled at him" what do you mean. Tracking. Checking my WA chats? You have no right. It’s illegal, I say!"
"Sirji , cool down cool down. Nothing to worry" was his week response. T continued to yell
“cool down! Do you know I have my rights! I live in a democratic country, in case you don't know. I will go to court”
Go to the media" I threatened, with full 56" chest!
The guy laughed. My anger moved a few notches up. He still laughed and had the audacity to needle me “ha ha it will not help. We will deny everything. No one will believe you"
He continued, now in a more serious tone " Menonji, listen to me. We mean no harm. All I wanted was to tell you that the Big man himself has invited you to accompany him on his next tour abroad " It was getting weirder second by second.
I decided to take control. I laughed for a change “eh. That's the best yarn i have heard this year! Next you may tell me that I won a huge Nigerian lottery! Good attempt PMOji. My apologies for not remembering your name in all this confusion"
He ignored my sarcasm. Went on “you see, the big man felt that he has to convince you about his ideas. There is no better way and place than his foreign farvanu time. So he want you to join him"
" Why me? I am an ordinary citizen with more ordinary views. He must have been wrongly advised. Even assuming all this is happening, he is surely wasting his time. Time he can usefully spent for the country in the company of Obama or Fidel Castro, for all care. Me! Ha! By the way tell him I like his sense of humour! “ Was the way I tried to reason with him. Continuing and wanting to end this joke of a call, I signalled “so that’s it. Nice, sorry, not so nice talking to you. You remain as PMOji. Let your name remain a National secret! Good by" Rude maybe but the guy deserved it.
He panicked “No no sirji. That’s not an option. He has to finalise his travel plans fast. It’s more than a week he has been in India. He has to move without wasting time. Worldly affairs are waiting for his intervention. His decision to have you is final. And you have to agree fast."
I wanted to tell him to take a jump from the South block or wherever he said he was from. But then a part of me, the big part, was now in a lighter frame of mind and decided to play along.
“Look PMOji, why don’t you reason out with him? Be a good bureaucrat. You know how to stall an idea. Tell him I am untraceable. Or even better, weak of mind. Whatever. Tell him it’s better to have that charming lady Sushmaji instead or that nice lady, who is your education minister, accompanying him. Tell him anything but get him to drop me like a hot potato" I will buy you a drink whenever we meet" I added.
He sounded unimpressed. The guy seemed to be on mission mode.
I persisted and tried another line “
PMOji I must now tell you that I am
delighted actually. But unfortunately I cannot come now. Sorry to disappoint
the big man. You see my good wife and me have planned a month long vacation to
celebrate our wedding anniversary. I understand the big man’s vision cannot
wait for me. Can you tell him that? Thanks for the offer by the way. You are a
dear friend”
He admonished me “stop fooling around. I
know your anniversary is many months away.
You have made no plans either”.
Foolish of me to have tried that. These
guys know everything about me.
He used a patronising tone then and said”
I do not see why you are not delighted. Anyone else would have been honoured”
“Well PMOji , firstly I think this is all
a prank call. Secondly, even if it is true, I believe that I feel I will be of
no use to his highness. Finally, I do not want the media to speculate about me
being there, unknown business tycoon and all that” I know I was indulging and I
seem to be enjoying it somewhat.
“All that is baseless. Like I said, it is
not an option” was his matter of fact reply. That once gain triggered my anger.
My word! This guy knows how to needle
me! “Is that a threat? I glared knowing fully well he cannot see that. Or can
he?
‘Never mind “he side tracked and went on”
So it’s final. You will soon get a lot of documents and an air ticket to Delhi.
You will have to come on short notice for a briefing. Then be ready to travel
with Him any time after that” He had enough of me and I kept quiet. He wished
me and said” For me it was nice talking to you. See you soon. By the way stich
a few bandanas. Oh forget that part.”
The line went dead.
A good Sunday spoiled. Not knowing if you
have been fooled or why you have become so important. Even why someone would
make such a monumental mistake. Then if
true, how life will change. Importantly, how will all those friends and near
ones regard me after I do the unthinkable. Life suddenly became a web of ifs
and buts. I dare not ask anyone. The risk of being considered round the bend
was high.
I soon received a bunch of documents and
DO and Don’ts. A first class ticket to Delhi next day. I ignored all the docs
and everything else. What the heck! If I do not comply or clear all this I will
be disallowed. I don’t care anyway. Let then fret. I took leave from office,
just in case.
Afternoon siesta was a relief. So I
thought. I soon drifted into deep sleep after a decent lunch. A glass of Sula
facilitated the calming of the nerves.
I was being escorted by some burly men in
black to the majestic aircraft, Air India one.
I stepped into the first class cabin. A cute little hostess inquired if
everything was fine. Like a veteran I
settled down.
Soon I was called to the sitting room .I
noticed that the plane had taken off. I picked up a glass of Champaign. Sushmaji came up to me and wished me. My
ghost standing beside me was stunned to see how coolly I was handling all this.
I mixed well with the bunch of worthies. Then I heard the voice. That highly
accented nasal voice. So finally I will meet the phone guy, the PMOji , I
thought.
I looked up. There he was in front and I
was stupefied. Stunned. My jaw dropped!.
Then I was woken up by my son. It took few
litters of cold water on my face to stop my head spinning.
Reality and fantasy merges into a blurred
memory. And life goes on…….
This is really very interesting and amusing..!! Good to be true
ReplyDeleteRajan Nair