The Hindu Business Line : A day in the life of the new <I>mantriji</I>

Mr Minister's daughters had a tough time reaching their father to congratulate him on his new assignment as he could not shake off his supporters — well, people who he suspects were his supporters, as he had never seen most of them.

New Delhi , May 26

THE all-important call had come but he was not supposed to divulge it to anyone, not even his wife. But around the time he was leaving for the Rashtrapati Bhavan to take oath as minister, the word somehow got out.

Moments later, life became a whirlwind for Mr Minister (name withheld on request). A vast sea of admirers and supporters suddenly descended on his tranquil bungalow, tucked away in a corner of Lutyens's Delhi. Crackers started going off and within half an hour, a pandaal was up, serving sherbet and sweets.

As Mr Minister left for the Rashtrapati Bhavan to take oath, his supporters insisted on carrying him on their shoulders to the car. Everyone climbed one on top of the other to shake his hand or touch his feet.

A couple of hours later, the might of the administration was on full display. A jeep screeched to a halt, with a mini-truck in tow. A bunch of cops scrambled out and within minutes a tent was erected near the gate to house the Minister's security.

The policemen got down to work right away, and one of the Minister's personal friends, more used to simply driving in his car, was told to park outside and thoroughly interrogated before someone saw him and rushed to the gate. Of course, profuse apologies followed.

As the evening progressed and Mr Minister was reading out his oath of office and secrecy, a tractor and trolley loaded with potted plants chugged in. A lawn mower materialised from nowhere, and the lawn got a manicure at 8 p.m. Scores of freshly painted pots were arranged neatly, all within 15 minutes.

Next, a truck drew in and electricians got working, putting up floodlights around the rather dimly lit bungalow.

Meanwhile, the tent house owner, too, had mobilised more resources and his workers went around putting decorative lights on the trees, fence and walls of the house.

The festivities reached a crescendo when Mr Minister returned after the oath-taking ceremony. As people rushed again to touch his feet, he was taken aback. "Is this my house?" he asked in disbelief.

His daughters had a tough time reaching their own father to congratulate him on his new assignment as he could not shake off his supporters — well, people who he suspects were his supporters as he had never seen most of them.

The drums were beaten as if there was no tomorrow and dancing and sloganeering reached fever pitch.

Meanwhile, Mr Minister decided to take his family and friend out for dinner. Word soon got out that the personal friend was close to the Minister. So, when he came back later that night, people thronged to touch his feet as well.

Mr Minister could barely catch a couple of hours of sleep and the charade started all over again. Skipping breakfast, he had to entertain a string of visitors: bureaucrats, journalists and industrialists.

It was then that a new business sprang up at his house. One of the servants in the house decided to make a fast buck, reselling the bouquets that had been presented to the Minister since the previous night. As visitors came in, they were offered a "deal" on the bouquet. Surprisingly, most visitors already knew the trick and did not even bother to pick up flowers on their way.

The flowers were presented to the Minister with everyone grinning ear to ear, and the bouquet would then find its way to the next visitor, of course for a consideration. Ditto for some of the boxes of sweets.

A couple of showroom owners walked in, carrying at least half a dozen suit lengths each. Mr Minister was requested to stand up for measurement and even as the shop owners introduced themselves, the tailors were busy taking notes of his vital stats. The safari suits will be delivered by the following morning, he was promised.

Some time later the Minister's friend walked in. This time, not only did people rush to touch his feet, some of them even presented him with petitions and requests for favours that ranged from a transfer to a railway ticket confirmation.

While it pays to be the Minister's friend, to become mantriji himself must feel like a groom on his wedding day when the hero loses control over the world around him. And it is the beginning of a stint as a demigod.