Chapter Text
Shah’s hand caressed Modi’s inner thigh, the latter of whom slapped it away with a shush.
“What are you doing? We’re in public, don’t you understand?” He said, his face flushed in anger.
Shah’s eyes grew wider, Modi had never refused his advances before. Where is this newfound embarrassment coming from? The last he’s seen of this expression was the night after demonetisation had caused mockery and......memes. He desperately wanted to ask ‘what’s troubling you honey’ but a quick glare from Sitharaman shut him up. Sitharaman, interrupting them more than a cow in Delhi traffic.
No one knew why they’d been called here by her.
”We need to appear financially competent of handling this country's funds, no slacking mind you,” she said. That’s why. Shah laughed.
”What. Is so funny?
“Competent? Says you.”
”I beg your pardon Amit?”
”Nothing,” he said after a quick pat from Modi’s hand.
”The automobile industry is facing losses, what should we do? Modi? You’re the Prime Minister, surely you have some ideas?”
”Blame it on the opposition?” Shah provided helpfully.
”Nah, we already did that last time we were inconvenienced. We need to come up with something new.” She tapped her pen (one with a Patanjali logo on it) against the table.
Shah noted that Modi had been uncharacteristically silent up till now. He wanted to say how much he missed his booming voice, the kind that could be heard over the scary morning loudspeaker azaan. He’d meant to twitter about that, but someone else had already done the work for him. Shah however, wouldn't have minced his words like that man had. Maybe if he’d talked to Arnab, he could’ve gotten more support.....
“Modi?”
“Brothers and Sisters, I.......” he gave a defeated sigh “don’t know. I barely passed college the first time around.”
”Opposition is grilling us, we have to do something!”
”Brothers and sisters, just say that we weren’t self reliant enough. Atmanirbhar, anushaasan, they’ll eat it up.”
”That puts the blame on us.” Shah wasn’t listening, he was staring into Modi’s soulful eyes. What he wanted to say was ‘you should grow your beard longer. Sexy style.’ What he really said was “Sexy.” Modi’s eyebrows rose seductively. Oh how Shah wanted to just rip off that 35,000 rupees vest and devour him. Seductively, of course.
”I give up. I’ll just say that Uber and Ola have caused people to not buy cars.” Shah’s face lit up at that, how could he give up an opportunity such as this to. His pride swelled at being different, anyone can delegate authority, but can they delegate responsibility like they just did? He scoffed at the thought.
”Nice, blame it on the poor,” Shah said. He wanted to high five her.
”Brothers and sisters, what about opposition?”
”Dunno, just promote some more yoga, tell them to chill. Hug them or whatever, I don’t know.” Shah knew the look on Modi’s face, it was the look he got when he was conspiring against some shitty fellow that always deserved it. It was the look he got in the bedroom after the 2002 riots had forced Modi to show no emotion in public. His Botox had looked particularly amazing then.
“If only we could get rid of the opposition... especially in the parliament,” Shah thought out loud.
Modi smiled at him, the smile reserved only for private encounters (and that one time in the jantar mantar). Shah smiled back.