The PM's Speech

 I tried writing this last night on the eve of independence day. This is my endeavor to present an idea how our leaders address the mob. I named the title upon being influenced by movie ' The King's Speech'

August 14, 2013 New Delhi, 7,Race Course Road.  Prime Minister's Residence.

 "Is it unavoidable to give a speech?" the uncomfortable old man said, "You know, I hate to talk."

"But you are the Prime minister," the young man said, " You've DONE it before. It's ONLY the Independence Day. And I am here, your speech-writer. Why worry?"

The PM remained anxious. 

The writer continued, "It's mostly school kids who attend. So, There will be no Q&A at the end. Unfurl the flag, stand for the national anthem, take the gun salute, read the speech and you are done!!"

"Everyone gets a holiday on Independence Day," the PM said, "why can't I?"

The speech-writer was speechless. After sometime he replied "No, you are not alone, Bangalore is always with you. Most of the IT people too don't get the holiday'.
"So, Should we talk about the content?" the writer said, "what do you want to focus on?"

" How about the killing inflation? People are truly sick of it," the writer said.

"Not sure if they are" the PM said " "I never buy anything. Sonia Mam does it for me and People make the payment. So, I can't talk about inflation. Any other?"

"Corruption?" The Speech writer suggested.
"Corrupt who?" the PM said.
"Aren't Politicians and Officials? " the writer said.

"But they are VIPs. The law is NOT the same ,You better understand" the PM said.
He continued " Have you ever seen any high-profile official in jail for corruption? I don't like to make false promises"

"Of course," the writer said and cleared his throat, "How about Naxal's disturbance ? Just talk to show you care and talk about solving the issues, of course."

"Is that my job?" the PM said.

"You are the prime minister. The most powerful person in the country. the writer said.

"Stop making fun of me" the PM said, "other topics?"

"India-Pakistan relations" the writer said.

"Sonia Mam will not permit for this" the PM said.

The writer was as silent as remains his PM in mob.

The writer stretched his arms out. "I'm out of ideas. You suggest me, sir. We don't have much time."

"General topics" the PM said, "just make it broad enough that there is no controversy. But make it bit interesting so that the guards and kids don't sleep" the PM said.

The writer nodded.

The PM explained, "Like talk about poverty reducing it, of course. And education. And stuff like we won't tolerate injustice and inequality.
Oh, and use the word superpower a couple of times just don't mention a specific issue "

"Thank you sir, You made my task easy.Only thing I need to do is to copy-paste Pst several years speeches" the writer was happy and so was his PM "You need not to even read that. I guess you remember them too"

The PM said " In MOBOCRACY, it's practice that make you PERMANENT . Ain't? "

The writer pretended to understand . " Ok Sir , I wish you best wishes. Unleash the PM within you tomorrow. Good night!  "

The PM showed him the least-often smile.

The Touch

When I opened my eyes, I found myself shrouded by myriads of new faces. All that I could surmise then that I was the cynosure of the concorge of people there. I could hear the beep- beep sounds of the traffic. I saw my T shirt and it was all red. My jean was no longer blue. The road was vying to match its color to my T shirt .  I hated gory stuffs since childhood and today I was the stuff.  I tried to remember anything, but in vain.  I gave myself assiduously to the role of road-accident-victim. An avalanche of hobnobs and suggestions appeared to me, but gradually both instructors and assumed -acolytes disappeared ; each of them found an excuse not to join the 'extra-trouble'. I didn't blame them. I too would have done almost similar in case I confronted such a trouble.
I could open my eyes once again. Someone was asking me my mobile and some contact. I gave my mobile and tried to answer him something . The words were not coming. I found that my upper sets of teeth were deformed; the front three bent down completely while canines had come outward. I cued him somehow my room-mate's mobile number . Forty pairs of eyes watched me crying. It is hard to mention the exact taste of mixture of blood and tears.

I was blankly watching all the phenomenon happening to me since my colleague in the company approached and hospitalized me to the operation room, where two doctors were trying to tie my teeth after emphatically positioning them , to the CT scans and so on.  I tried recollecting the scenes . I was going to Kormangla for GMAT mock test and then I found myself on the road near Jaydeva .  The date was April 13 and it was Saturday. Apparently from the location I fell, a bike, coming in wrong way (the road was one way there), had hit me to this situation.  I could not sue; I should not sue when I was not sure. I, lying sordid in the  bed (with fractures in my nose and several stitches inside and on my face) of a hospital of a city, where strangers were both my life saver and my almost-life-taker,  allowed to release the bike the traffic police had busted. The rider was a young lad who admitted after several demur that he was in hurry and took detour to step in the bike in wrong direction. Mistake was inadvertent and could be excused - I believed at least for then.
 It was almost two weeks since my accident. I could not eat anything and I had to be on liquid diets. (Then I was not knowing that my this semi-fasting is going to take severe toll on my health . I lost my appetite by 10 kg and weighing just 49 kg when I broke my fasting after 110 days - of course nothing to brag off!) .
I read somewhere - 'a good man is as strong as the right woman needs him to be' . From the accident day , I got attracted to one of my doctor. Not that she was Miss world in look, but something was there that - to give myself an excuse to see her again, I longed for the each appointment I had in the hospital - in fact, unlike many who consider it pathetic to visit doctors,  I never realized, I went hospital. The adjectives such as bootylicious, nubile, sinewy, sylph, comely and damsel  were matter-of- factually undermining her, I supposed.
For months, I fed the attraction with morsels of time stolen from the appointments, and long treatment procedure.  She was elder than me and still I had to figure out if I was in love!

She was trying to fit my teeth to the its position. The day before, I had met the torturous process of root canal in one of my teeth, which was broken badly. She had never charged her fee to me ever even after I emphasized her for that. Her such compromise to her profession was beyond my ken. I had clinched my feast to resist the pain . My mouth was getting blooded soon after she was cleaning it with water. Howsoever I controlled  , my tears rolled on my cheeks . My doctor took out her white perfumed handkerchief and wiped out my tears.
' Sumit ! See how much  you are crying! You are a brave boy I know. Don't cry please. Everything will be fine. I am here. Be calm! '
I melted more on listening those words. Such warmth could be indispensably of my elder sister; or even my own sister, if  she were a doctor, would have given a second thought to wipe out my blood-sweat-tears mixture with her unmasked bare hands and with an affectionate touch transcending the precautions of medication.
She was my sibling! Indeed! 
The second accretion of tears masked the dried one- this time the reason was not the pain I was getting.