The prime minister is needed in Moscow
The flight takes off in an hour
the employees are
rushing about,
Enough Evian spring-water bottles on board?
Is the paneer gravy salted right?
Mr. Prime minister, he got
Really upset the last time
Is there a copy of the Gita
By the armrest, the photographer
has been instructed to take
“Candids”, if you will
You see, Russia is India’s biggest arms supplier
And Victory Day is near
Mr. Prime minister, he has
Written a speech
Punctuated with embellished sentiment
Victory of the Soviet!
Camaraderie, especially in front of the world’s cameras
Brings FDI, and jobs
And food to the poor
Hope to the desolate
The picture of a perfect nation.
Mr. Prime Minister waves for the media
A smiling picture appears in The Hindustan Times
Mr. Prime Minister and the journey
To a perfect India!
The paneer is cooked to perfection
Moscow is beautiful
Mr. Prime minister snores in his neck pillow
On the way back
A perfect nation he built Awaits him
Pushpak Viman!
Malini howls with glee
Pointing an airplane out to Manik
Hurtling through the expanse
Of the bright May sky
Their mother had told Malini all about it
And she regurgitates the epic
To her little brother
Ram bhagwaan is getting Sita ji back
Manik nods in comprehension
He’s naked, it’s hot
Not that he has the clothes for if it wasn’t
They sit on a divider as cars rack up
a cacophony of blaring horns
Around them
Malini rubs the stump where her arm used to be
It was painful when they cut it off
And she had cried a lot
But people gave more money this way
And she could get Manik nankhatai
For only 5 rupees
From Sundar kaka
If she let him touch her between the legs
And baapu didn’t have to touch
Lalaji‘s feet crying and begging
If she could manage to feed Manik
He was little, but his stomach bulged out
Like Rani mausi when she had kittu
Maybe Manik would have a kittu
She giggled
“You should be happy, cause Sita ji is finally home”
Manik agrees
He wonders why contactor sahib
Is always fidgeting with Amma‘s saaree
And why amma follows him into the half built compound
Maybe he teaches her how to tie it properly
The TV in the paan shop
Shows Mr. Prime minister’s beaming face
Perfect India, he says
Manik buffs two imli seeds on the ground
To make half of them white Like Mr. President’s moustache
There is no dinner tonight
But Manik is happy
His india is perfect, Mr. Prime minister says
And Sita ji is finally home
By Manvi Aggarwal, for the Trans Solidarity Fund