The PM was at his desk at midnight, when a chill wind gusted and a figure materialised on the chair opposite—a man in dhoti and angavastram, tanpura in hand. It was Naradmuni.
“Prabhu!” The PM saluted reverentially.
“Who designs these things?” The sage shifted crossly. “If you can’t get even your chairs right, how will you ever ‘Make in India’?”
“Holy one, please guide me,” said Modi humbly. “I feel my path is blocked by enemies whichever way I turn.”
Narada’s gaze became spiercing. “What is this path?”
“My path for the country."
“Hmm... And where does it lead?”
“Sab ka saath, sab ka vikas,” Modi said without any hesitation at all.
“Shabash!” The sage clapped his hands. “Call it SKSSKV. How much time do you need to achieve it?”
Modi paused. His brain was swamped—the farm crisis, jobs, industrial recession.... “Ten-fifteen years,” he...