Whether they love him or simply can’t stand him, Indians can not stop talking about him — his skin with its delicate, distinctly fascist, saffron glow; his dead eyes and prominent mouth; his fondness for talking about his fondness for mangoes on national television on the rare occasion he decides to give an interview. Still — it isn’t as if it would ever happen, but just in case people forget his name, he wears it on his sleeve (and the rest of his three-piece suit, too).
With a chest the size of the ideal TV set in a respectable middle-class household and a wanderlust surpassing all other world leaders and Instagram influencers; NaMo is a national hero, and he could easily be a Bollywood icon, too (ref: the size of his chest; how he spurns family for the call of duty). Oh, he can cause a riot — people simply can not stop themselves when he says that golden word:
As one of the great Indian leaders (and the greatest fashion icon in politics since Jackie Kennedy) the 14th Prime Minister of India sure deserves a biography a-la-his favourite dudes, the Mughals — so I gave him one. Here’s hoping he likes it, and that it can be on the blurb for his next bestselling book — hopefully not a sequel to Exam Warriors, jeez.