Grading the PM,Gursharan style

PMji in some agitation: What if this leaks out, Gursharanji? What if you give me low marks and the BJP gets to learn about it?

The air-conditioner in the drawing room of 7, Race Course Road, was purring smoothly. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh, after a hectic round of evening meetings, sunk into the sofa with the air of a man largely at peace with himself. It was rare for him to get such free time. Okay, there was violence in Kashmir, the medical students continued to be on the warpath, the stock market was yo-yo-ing all over the place, there were a million demands, complaints, pleas, claims, inquiries, awaiting his attention, but even the most powerful well, second most powerful person in the country deserves a break, surely. It was at that point that he perceived his beloved wife of 48 years at his side with a glass of 8216;aam panna8217; in her right hand and an ominous-looking notebook in her left8230;

Gursharanji: Mai8217;kya ji, drink this aam panna. Changaa hai, good, for this weather. Tussi, you, don8217;t take care of yourself enough, it8217;s always kaam, kaam, kaam, kaam, work, work, work, work, for you.

PMji taking a sip and permitting himself a joke: Changaa hai. Aam panna for the aam aadmi, a mango drink for the ordinary man!

Gursharanji now very business-like, setting down her notebook and reaching for a pen: Now, hun, I need your dyaan, attention. How do you grade your performance after the dooja, second, year?

PMji startled: But we have decided not to grade ourselves, Gursharanji. Remember all the trouble we had after we gave ourselves chhe, six, on 10 last year? This time, no grades.

Gursharanji: Dyaan do, tussi, you pay attention now. What you decide in your office is your business, but ithe, here, I decide, and I8212;thwadi votti, your wife8212;have decided to grade you.

PMji in some agitation: What if this leaks out, Gursharanji? What if you give me low marks and the BJP gets to learn about it?

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Gursharanji: Fikar na karo Manmohanji, worry not. Only the diwaran, walls, and farsh, floor, will hear this. Now answer my question frankly. Are you planning to raise the price of cooking gas, or not?

PMji: Khasma nu khaniye, you want to finish your husband! Gursharanji, you know the price of oil in international markets is at an all-time high, don8217;t you? As an economist8217;s wife you will surely realise that there is a relationship between global and local prices.

Gursharanji: Mai8217;kya ji, mere savaal da javaab do, give me an answer to my question.

PMji shifting uneasily: It8217;s like this, Gursharanji, there is a distinct possibility that some measures will have to be taken to reduce the burden that rising crude prices have on the economy.

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Gursharanji: The trouble with economists, Manmohanji, is that they use panj, five, words when ikk, one, will do. Okay that means you get 10 minus 4. Now, next savaal. What about those poor munde, boys, in AIIMS? How long will they have to go without their roti? It is like a hathaura, hammer, on my heart when I see them on TV, haan.

PMji getting distinctly uncomfortable: Gursharanji, as I have always said, neem hakim, khatre jaan. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. These young people are dangerously misled. We have their best interests in mind and they will see sense.

Gursharanji: The trouble with prime ministers, Manmohanji, is that they use sau, 100, words, when one will do. So your grade at the moment is 6 minus 2, or chaar, four. Teeja savaal, third question. When are you going to assert yourself in the party, haan? I am sick of hearing log, people, tell me that you have become na ghar da, na ghat da, neither fish nor fowl.

PMji stung to the quick: Gursharanji, that is enough. As the PM of this house, I am telling you to maintain your silence.

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Gursharanji: So tussi, you, don8217;t want to answer that question, I take it. That is four minus two. Manmohanji, if twadi voti cannot hold a mirror up to you, who can? As the kahaavat, saying, goes: Bina sewa, meva nahi milta. No gain without pain. Ji, my grade for you is 2 upon 10.

PMji had no words in response. From the corner of his eye he could see his wife write the words, 8216;8216;Could do better8217;8217;, in bold, and underline it three times. He huddled in the sofa, clutching his empty glass. Being prime minister of India was the loneliest job in the world.