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Super Duper Looper Exclusive: A Confession From The Chowkidar

I’m not here as regular me—celebrated orator, steely administrator, greatest hope of Hindutva.

I’m not here as regular me—celebrated orator, steely administrator, greatest hope of Hindutva. It’s just me fellow citizen, outside the magnesium glaze of publicity, sharing my innermost thoughts. Even a global superhero has to admit, once in a while, that he is only human. Hath not a pracharak eyes? If you prick us, do we not bleed? I need a shoulder for five minutes, is all. But I am still he who refers to himself in the third person even in private conversations like this one, and even in his own head. Don’t let this rare moment of vulnerability make you forget who you’re dealing with.

Anyway, mitron, do you remember that day in May 2014 when, amid the popping flashbulbs, I knelt on the steps of Parliament to kiss democratic norms goodbye? It was an emotional day, and I wept. I was putting it on a bit then, and have judiciously put it on a bit several times since, because I am nothing if not a high-stakes thespian, but today, the glisten you see in my eyes is for real.

Chowkidar

It hurts to say it, but today I am despondent, bhaiyon aur behenon. I have not taken a day off in five years, okay? I think we can agree that that’s nuts-level amazing. I have been the centre of all camera frames. I have mastered the acronym. I have taken earth-shattering decisions that affect the lives of every single citizen—even urban naxals—for the benefit of India. I have carried all our supporters on my shoulders by myself, I have not shied away from military engagement, and I have Not. Stopped. Talking. Okay I have, but only when silence was another way of providing leadership. Do you know how tiring all this is, mere pyare deshvasiyon?

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And yet, people behave as though I’ve messed up the whole country even worse than it was already messed up. Social media laughs at me, not with me. Reporters are sharing clips of people all over India saying horrible things about my government. When…oh god, this hurts…IF I return to power, I’ll have to deal with all those people. Why can’t everyone stop being so negative? Here I am, working day and night to fill their bellies with cultural pride and nationalistic fervour, and there they are, going on like blinkered horses about jobs and food and prices.

My party, which used to set the narrative, is having a hard time just keeping up. I fear that I might have totally overplayed the Pulwama-Balakot thing, and the Pakistan-Congress axis thing, and the global superpower thing. We’re having to react to…and this hurts worst of all—to Pappu! People aren’t even calling him Pappu anymore, they’re having serious, thoughtful discussions about his proposed policies. Plus now I feel trapped me in this very double-edged chowkidar metaphor. It is all very galling.

Chowkidar
Prime Minister Narendra Modi

I’ll tell you something, mitron: I’m tired. You must have seen my very important address the other day, which gave India the jitters—and after which lots of people laughed and went back to whatever they were doing. Did you see how my hands were shaking? Did you notice that my face was not calm? I’m tired, bhaiyon aur behenon, I’m dejected, and let’s face it, extremely nervous about this election. But keep all this to yourselves, because I’m going to flatly deny it.

Okay, back to work. Pulwama-Balakot! Pakistan-Congress axis! Global (and space) superpower!

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