My dear Mamma,
Today your dimpled fair boy has turned 47! Mamma, your loving words ‘Bravo Ragazzo raul Vinci’ are enough for me to drag one more year of my life! I promise you, till my last breath, I’ll be ‘Mamma’s boy! I know how much you love me! You asked me on phone how I was feeling. I told you that I was feeling great! But you know my feelings, right? If not you, who would understand my pains and sufferings, my Mamma?
Well, I shouldn’t complain. It’s so blissful to be away from India. Let me enjoy while the vacation lasts! Here, Granny pampers me a lot, God bless her! Italy is home! Veronique is by my side. I feel human here. I can be myself! I’m wearing funky Polo Ralph Loren T-shirt. No Social Media here to haunt me! You very well know how uncomfortable and boring Indian clothing is! But I’ll say my kurta-pajama is still tolerable! I can’t imagine how you wear those long saris! For you to change from short skirts to saris must have been really tough. Granny praises you a lot for your adjusting nature, dear Mamma. She tells me the stories of Mainos’ journey ‘from rags to riches’ since you married Papa! So, I too won’t complain. Haven’t I worn a torn kurta for you during UP Election campaign? And even Priyanka suffers those saris during campaigning, poor sis! We have sacrificed a lot for the congress!
I am a disappointment for you, am I not, Mom? You wanted me to become the PM of India, just like Dad. I’m trying Mamma. You have seen me working so hard on those horrendous Hindi speeches. Frankly speaking, just like you, even I can’t make head or tail of those speeches. Sometimes I make blunders in my speeches. Then, they make compilation of my blunders and trend on Social Media. It’s so embarrassing, it makes me cry Mamma. Couldn’t you spare this humiliation to your darling son?
And those grilling sessions of Parliament sound like Chinese to my ears! I try hard not to doze off in parliament, I seriously do! Sometimes things go beyond my control! And all the hell breaks loose if they catch me napping! Oh, I don’t care whether it is Narega or Manrega…I hate going to Parliament, Mamma. They stare at me with ridicule…BJPians I mean! They are all smart orators. Their grins and amused looks make me feel as if I’m a comedian. Am I, Mamma?
Every person has to go through Exam times during student life. But I’m the unfortunate one to face exam all my life. One election after another…Loksabha, Vidhansabha, MCD …Delhi, Bihar, Goa, Uttar Pradesh…Never ending trauma for your child! Oh spare me, Mamma! Why don’t you just accept it to yourself that your son is a huge failure? See, I was kept out of Punjab and Congress won there. Why doesn’t Congress leave me alone, for God’s sake? Enough of this blame on me for working towards ‘Congress-mukt Bharat’!
You told me once that ‘Power’ is like a poison. But the poison suited us quite well. By the grace of this ‘Poison’, you became the fourth richest politician in the world. This poison has killed Congress Party. Not us, Mamma. We have enough dough to last for 10 generations to come. Now that we are talking about our next generations, have you thought about my marriage? Even the issue of my marriage is used for the political goals. Remember how a rumor was spread about my marriage being fixed with a UP Brahmin girl? Just because I was born with the fake Gandhi surname, am I to lose all my personal space in life?
Why do I need to do all the gimmicks like eating in the houses of poor? Why do I need to wear skull cap? Why do you send me on Vulture Tourism, as these Right wingers taunt it? I hate going to those depressing places. And why the hell am I to speak against BJP, RSS and Hindus? I have no enmity towards them. I still recall how Bajpeyi Uncle and his NDA party had helped me in 2001 when I was caught with US $ 160K cash and cocaine powder at Boston Airport in USA! If Atalji hadn’t helped, I would have been there in jail for lifetime! You didn’t even let me thank him. Even today the Modi-led NDA is supportive to us. The other day when I was admitted in AIIMS, Delhi for drug overdose, no media channel breathed it. Jaitley Uncle is like a family. They are not a bad lot, Mamma!
I do whatever you tell me to do. Just like a robot. I call RSS Saffron Terrorists. I participate in fuelling unrest in BJP-led states faking concerns for farmers, dalits, minorities and all that bullshit. I’m fed up Mamma. Why are you allowing Congress to abuse me like this? That Modi must be doing some good work. The other day, in Bengaluru University, the young students snubbed me with “ Yesssssss” when I asked them if Swachch Bharat, Make in India Missions were working! Why can’t I praise Modi even once, Mamma?
Mamma, I’m reading Bhagvadgita nowadays. Dhrutarashtra’s description befits you perfectly, you know! Your love for me, money and power is ruining me, Congress and India! I am not cut for politics. In fact, I’m cutting Congress to size. If only you would understand this! Accept Mamma, your son is a junkie middle-aged dumbo . I’m Pappu. I’m Buddhu. I’m Rahul Baba. I’m anything but PM Material. Leave me alone! Gurfan Azam Uncle was right. But I know you won’t see the truth. Actually, like Dhrutarashtra, you are blind too!
Your unfortunate son
Jyothi Suparna Chincholi