Reality Bites: Public wealth as pittance to flaunt Dear Leader’s fakeeri

While journalists are furiously writing listicles on the best or worst things about 2021, I am far more concerned about something that has puzzled me in the year that just went by. It is with a furrowed brow that I ask this question:

We saw the Dear Leader launching public-funded project after project in Utter Purgatory, and bragging like some nouveau riche motormouth about the crores they cost. So, how come he didn’t launch other huge (and more personally important) public-funded projects in every state across the nation too? Like the two new airplanes for his personal use that cost Rs. 8,400 crore, a fancy new Mercedes Maybach car for himself that cost Rs. 12 crore, and the Central Vista Project and his new house that cost the nation well over Rs. 20,000 crore?

He didn’t pay a penny from his pocket, so they belong to everyone in the nation, right?

It would have been wonderful to see the Dear Leader land on highways in other states with the sticker price on the bodies of the new planes. Since he loves light shows, the sticker price could have UV light flashes, while excited news anchors could have screamed “Two planes for the price of twenty” on our TV screens. (Note: Please do not wear white underwear if you’re invited to these events, UV light exposes them).

He could have graciously invited chief ministers of each state he visited to cut the ribbons, because one day these planes could be theirs! Defence Minister Rajnath Singh could have been there too, to do the only thing he does to protect the nation: Hang limes and chillies on the planes to ward off evil.

And why leave out common people who actually paid for his goodies? I’m sure the PMO could have run essay contests in each state about how frugal and fakeer our Dear Leader is, and the winners could have got joyrides in those planes, and free air-sickness bags with the Dear Leader’s mugshot on them.

He could have done exactly the same with his new car. Since the lucky man doesn’t pay for his own petrol, he could have driven through the entire nation waving at imaginary crowds till his flabby arms developed biceps and triceps.

As for the Central Vista project and his new house, he could have unveiled tiny replicas of them in every state. His PMO could have had a different contest for the public. Say like, complete the following sentence in less than 10 words: “I worship the Dear Leader because…”.

Winners could have been allowed to use the restroom facilities in the Central Vista project and his new house when in the vicinity. That would have been inclusive, and underlined the importance of Swachh Bharat Abhiyan as well. Pennies well spent, even critics would agree.

Since he behaves like the Queen of the UK down to waving and wearing silly hats, how come the media doesn’t go to town about the designers he uses?

While news anchors get hysterical about the flowing orange gowns he poses in when he visits 5-star caves, the faux military outfits he dons when he visits soldiers, his monogrammed suits, button-popping jackets, etc, the designers should be also be named and promoted (there are enough people with bad taste in the country to make them super wealthy), and, more importantly, the prices quoted.

I have heard and read many of his supporters gush about how selfless and humble he is, without anything to back their statements. While I’m not saying that the Dear Leader should wear sack-cloth stitched into kurta-pyjamas by his mummy’s arthritic fingers, I’m just reminding you that he should draw the line at splurging public funds. Particularly when you consider that he is solely responsible for destroying India’s economy with demonetisation and shoddily implemented GST.

Now, in case you’re wondering why I’m not asking that seriously important question that has puzzled the nation—Why do Hindutva hate-mongers get away with calls for genocide and violent attacks on minorities—it’s because we know the answer already: The people who voted for the Dear Leader in 2014 and 2019, voted exactly for this.

Our only hope in 2022 is that the Walrus of Nagpur slips on a banana peel, bangs his head hard, and becomes a normal human being.

(Any resemblance to real people or events is a coincidence)