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Commentary/Mani Shankar Aiyar

'I can afford to put Kesri in his place. After all, the press will no longer be baiting me for falling asleep on my job'

Wednesday

My information chap, Dua, has come up with a brilliant solution to my image problem. "Tell the press, Sir," he said, "that when you close your eyes, it is not because you are sleeping. It is just that you want to shut your present eminence from your eyes to recall that you are but a humble farmer. That way, you can add, you are better able to concentrate on the poor," Brilliant -- I told you!

But I was not going to let Dua off the hook so easily. Why, I asked him, had he not suggested this before? "Because I don't know the Kannada for 'present eminence', Sir," he said. Thin, I thought, "Why did you not ask Meenakshisundaram?" I asked "Because he's from Tamil Nadu," Dua replied, "and all the Kannadigas here told me he is not to be trusted." Why did we ever teach these Punjabis that not all south Indians are Madrasis?

Well, better late than never. I've asked Dua to fix up a 'chance' encounter with the press at which I'll serve up Dua's answer.

(The information adviser carries on the tale (in conversation with the editors): "The press conference was a disaster. I got one of my old Press Club chums to put the prime minister a pointed question. Unfortunately, this chap was so short that every time he put up his hand it got hidden behind a big burly tough from one of the financial papers muscling in with some nonsense about the incremental capital: output ratio. How is a prime minister expected to know?

Anyway, by the time I ignored other hands and asked my guy to put the question I'd drafted for him, the prime minister was exhausted. The question came - just as the PM dropped off. Some idiot shouted, "Wake up, wake up," True, the chap did not know about the AIIMS psychiatrist -- thank God! -- so the more he said "Wake up" the sounder the PM slept. The press conference became a melee. Clearly, we would have to find some other way of getting our side into the press.)

Thursday

After yesterday's disaster, I was just thinking how silly I had been to not get an information adviser from the Karnataka cadre when Dua retrieved himself by telling me in my cabin as the plane was taxing to the terminal that I need not wait for some presswallah to ask me; I could make a suo moto statement. I asked him what was "suo moto"? He told me. If he had spoken in Kannada, I would not have needed to suffer the humiliation of asking for a translation. Why does he have to use these strange Punjabi words? (Latin actually, but then how would the PM know? He didn't even go to the LSE! -- Editors.)

As I came down the ramp, I raised my hand to demand silence. The assembled press corps listened, because I was on my home turf -- Bangalore. And I told them in unambiguous Kannada what Dua had asked me to say. It worked like magic. Tomorrow's headlines will, at long last, carry my version.

I have returned to Delhi -- with a good night's rest well earned. Mahendra told me that Kesri had called to remind me of our appointment. I told him to tell Kesri it can wait till the world wakes tomorrow. I can afford to put Kesri in his place. After all, the press will no longer be baiting me for falling asleep on my job.

Continued
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