Note Ban: Jasoos Kutty Says What Mohanlal Didn't

Jasoos Kutty’s Theory of Boredom and Demonetisation

Puttu and kadala.

Again.

I don’t know a single person who has got bored of eating puttu for breakfast. But 30 days at a stretch is a bit of a stretch. It is enough to make people think of very drastic measures. Now, if the dinner is fruits and soup, you have had it. You will start dreaming of chicken tandoori, beef fry, and all other sins at odd times. It could even force a nervous breakdown.

“Sara, I admit puttu is my favourite, but the same puttu and kadala for one full month is too much. Can’t you ask the cook to prepare something different. Even bread-omelette will do.”

“Go ask your Modiji. The grocer doesn’t take PayTM-ShayTM or dollar-shollar and I am not wasting precious domestic currency on a packet of bread and a dozen eggs.”

“Now you blame Modi, it is exactly because of assistants like you he had to demonetise all those lakhs of crores of rupees. You good for nothing ~!#%#$^$%.” To make my point I threw the cup of tea on the floor, was just about to throw the puttu and kadala as well, but luckily stopped myself in time. All that yoga-bhoga I do works at times, though I haven’t shed any weight so far. Sara, like me, also has a temper, if I do something like that, she might just stop cooking or worse still, make puttu and kadala for the next one year.

“If the maid doesn’t come, you will sweep the floor today,” Sara picked up the newspaper and started reading.

“See Sara, you don’t get the point. I will explain.”

“What is there to explain?”

“You know why Modi became PM?”

“Why?”

“He was Chief Minister for 15 years and wanted a change. What was there for the taking? The PM’s post.”

“It’s not as easy as that.”

“Of course not. You know of my 11-month undercover operation. I am so bored of it that I just stopped it.”

“What will you do then? Half your money came from that assignment. And my salary.”

“Don’t worry. Since I don’t have a CM’s job on offer, I will go undercover somewhere else. What I am saying is Modi became PM because he was bored being CM and it has nothing to do with ambition. It was the same with Manmohan Singh. He wasn’t doing much and when Sonia offered him the post he just took it. Singh was bored of doing nothing.  Boredom is nourishment of ambition.”

“OK. What does that have to do with my cooking?” Sara sometimes amazes me with her stupidity. I have to explain everything to her.

“Just like macro-economics and micro-economics, there is macro-boredom and micro-boredom.”

“And what is that?”

“Micro-boredom has to do with small things in life. Like eating puttu every day. Take Modiji for instance. Every day he eats dhokla, rice, dal, roti and kadak chai. Just imagine doing this every day of the month, every month of the year, every year of the decade. A good aide, or cook in this instance, will make small changes. Make dal tadka instead of dal makhani one day, upma instead of dhokla, vada-sambhar instead of dahi-bhalla.”

“Feeki chai instead of kadak chai.”

“No, no, no. Never. Never touch the chai. The whole day will be ruined if the chai is out of sync, and you don’t want your PM’s chai to be spoilt. It is a bit like the kattan chai I have every morning.”

“OK.”

“Now when the cook fails you, you start thinking. ‘What is the point of life if all I am eating is dhokla and dal-chaval.’ This thought process is a tricky thing. You never know where it takes you. Philosophy, spirituality, you could start thinking about anything.”

“OK.”

“The first two years, the PM was busy with foreign affairs, at the expense of internal affairs, some losers like Rahul say.”

“Oh, please. How can you randomly call people losers?”

“But he did lose an election, Sara. Getting back to the point, after two years, one fine day Modiji gets yet another plate of dhokla and the thought process starts. ‘I have done enough of foreign affairs, more than what Sushmaji has done, it is time I helped out Jaitleyji a little.  What kind of a Prime Minister doesn’t help his ministers?’”

“OK.”

“And then he eats the dal-roti, yet again, it is not helping at all. He is encouraged to think further. ‘The GST is done, but it was the brainchild of Atal or Manmohan or whoever, and I am pretty much doing what they did. What is there for me to do?’ Every time he gets the same dhokla and dal-roti, he starts thinking. He is a man who doesn’t settle for the second best, he couldn’t have done nothing less than a surgical strike on the economy.”

At this point, Sara ended the conversation and left the room. She returned after 15 minutes.

“Kutty, here is bread-omelette for you. If you were bored of puttu and kadala, you should have just told me instead of cooking up a story.”

The evolution of Puratchi Thalaivi into Amma

The year was 1999. Atal Behari Vajpayee had taken office as the Prime Minister of India, on the crutches of J Jayalalithaa and the 18 AIADMK MPs she had at her beck and call. Jayalalithaa was out of power in Tamil Nadu, but now held the plug on the BJP’s second government at the Centre (Vajpayee’s earlier term ended in 13 days). ‘If Jayalalithaa catches a cold in Chennai, Vajpayee sneezes in Delhi’ was the joke of the day, a couple of newspapers even ran headlines to the effect.

Jayalalithaa was flying to Delhi, with a plan in place to raid the national capital, aided and abetted by Subramanian Swamy. Yes, the trip now infamous for the number of suitcases she carried, which were rumoured to have cash, sarees or footwear, depending on who you spoke to.

A friend, whose father was a Tamil Nadu government employee and a big fan of the Puratchi Thalaivi, was entrusted with the task of arranging a fitting welcome for who could be the future PM of the country. He ferried two bus-loads of Tamil migrants from Trilok Puri to the airport, where they greeted their beloved leader with chants of ‘Puratchi Thalaivi Vaazhkaa’.

In return, this friend, fresh out of college, and a member of the AIADMK’s youth wing in the Capital, got an audience with the Empress. He bowed with respect, said some greetings, and Jayalalithaa took a few notes from a tray placed near her and handed them over. The next guy in line was rewarded with a bigger wad of notes, he had fallen at the feet of the Leader. My friend, born and raised in Delhi, had missed the trick.

For Jayalalithaa, that Delhi trip was in vain, from kingmaker she had become a butt of jokes. She pulled down a government, but gained nothing much in the process.  

The Jayalalithaa that returned to power was a changed woman. She understood the importance of allies -- used them to win power and threw them under the bus once the elections were over. She ruled her party with an iron hand. She reportedly kept a leash on her trusted friend and aide Sasikala Natarajan, she brooked no hint of criticism, she dropped ministers at the drop of a hat. More importantly, the ornaments were missing, the suitcases were missing, the pomp was missing. She had understood the importance of perception. She was doing penance, so to say, for her sins of the past. The dictator became a practitioner of welfarism, fondly called Ammanomics after the several schemes she floated under the brand Amma.  

All of Jayalalithaa’s obituaries in newspapers today talk about her industrial policies, pro-poor freebies, women’s safety, how Tamil Nadu, a big state, has scaled all development indices under her rule.  The metamorphosis is complete. Jayalalithaa Jayaram, the Puratchi Thalaivi (the ‘revolutionary leader’), who was held in awe and fear, will be remembered forever as Amma by the people of Tamil Nadu.

(The writer has no expertise in Dravidian politics. He reads newspapers and watches TV news)