It occurred to me while watching the coverage of our prime minister's trip to the United States that besides holding talks to sculpt Indo-US policy, bolster India's bid for a seat on the United Nations Security Council and wrest more economic advantages for India, what if Narendra Modi and his American counterpart, President Barack Obama, had the chance to meet as two guys would, for the first time, say at a bar? (All right, not a bar, dear respected Sangh brethren, a hotel coffee-shop. Why, even a chai shop!)
But you know what I mean, the kind of meeting two middle-level entrepreneurs who are in the same line of work and who want to see if there might be some future projects together would have for instance? I wonder how that meeting would go.
Of course, there would first be the initial sizing up of each other. "Gosh, he's taller and thinner than his pictures," one would think. "Nice outfit. Must get Michele to check on the fabric. Is it linen?" the other would wonder.
The handshake would probably surprise both men. "Ouch. He's strong," one would say. "Definitely got something up his sleeve," the other would say to himself.
But, of course, the civilities of modern urbanity would take over.
"You got here okay, bud?" one would ask the other. "Flight okay?" "Not really. But that's another story," the other would reply, with a don't-even-go-there steeliness.
"Drink? A beer? A cooler from Napa. Wouldn't touch the Vodka though," one would say.
"A nimbu-pani please," the other would say in response. "Or green tea. Not kahva - never touch that stuff."
Once the drinks arrive, the two men would allow themselves to relax a little while they sip on their chosen beverages.
"So about your proposal..." one would hesistantly begin. "I thought it best if we discussed it face to face. You know, all these hackers …"
"Yes, best to meet," the other would amiably agree. "Once I got my visa, thought it was a good time to meet you and catch up with my many friends here."
One would blush at the word visa. "Oh yes, that silly business. Heard about it. Sorry, buddy. No offences meant. You got many mates here?"
"No offence taken," the other would say, perhaps a little insincerely. "Yes, many friends here. They've planned some kind of welcome party for me at Times Square this weekend. Should be fun. But to get back to the project we discussed, it has great potential. We have just the manufacturing capabilities to take on all your production. Besides, our quality is much better than the Chinese…"
"Yes, we are interested," one would say. "Also, don't want to put all our eggs in one basket, you know."
"Right," the other would curtly reply. "But you will have to ensure safe deliveries," he would add. "You know bandits and other rivals at the borders."
"You got it, mate," one would say cheerily. "We have experienced similar business issues. We could put up a united front and take on our rivals."
"Yes," the other would reply cautiously. "Anyway, we have the next couple of days to discuss that. How's the missus and kids?"
"All good. Your family good? Nice picture of the whole bunch of them you tweeted in their shorts - seemed like a great picnic?"
"Yes. They're a good bunch. Awful weather though," the other would say.
"Don't even start about the weather," one would say, looking glumly out of the cafe at the muggy street outside.
"God knows what's happened to the weather…!"
And so it goes, and so it goes.
Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer malavikasmumbai@gmail.com
