Even before the Superman craze, I was known as Super Sudheen. While others were walking, I was flying. I crossed barriers with ease. First I crossed the Marxist one. I swore by dialectical materialism, then switched my hero worship to Marx Brothers. I was felicitated by the Afghan President and his Soviet admirers, who were dazzled by my intellect—a mix of Marxism, essence of our epics, a dash of the ever-dependable Swami Vivekananda and an endearing instinct for new patrons. The newspapers ignored me, so Super Sudheen landed straight into the Hindutva brigade. In those days, the Khaki knicker brigade needed intellectuals and despite the post-office red of my knickers, I was snapped up. My achievements were near-miraculous. For a few weeks, I even converted the aristocrat Commie Russy Karanjia of Blitz to a Hindutva fan, though by that time old age had made him barmy. Oh, the BJP delighted in me! My rise was swift, Atalji and Lalji drank from the fountain of my wisdom. Like Pierre Salinger, press secretary to John Kennedy, I spoke words of wisdom to the leadership, and someone compared me to Kennedy aide Theodore Sorensen, Kennedy’s ‘intellectual blood bank’. In Mumbai’s Jaslok Hospital, doctors were puzzled when they once found my blood slightly blue!
It was fun educating the ignorant buffoons of the BJP. But I craved for action, that too covert. With my slimy, sticky approach I would have been a natural for the CIA’s dirty tricks department, but the Indian ‘intelligence’ division was full of Yanks. Yet, I was the clandestine head of ‘operation currency note’, which almost brought down the Manmohan Singh government. I was on every TV discussion show, blaming the Congress and everyone else for the fiasco. I was thrilled by the entire operation and how it ended Amar Singh’s career! Unlike Atalji, Lalji recognised my particular genius. It was a pity the BJP ignored his talent.