Barack Obama

Believe me, there is nothing more wonderful than an ID card or a thoroughbred American beef burger!

Barack Obama
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Really, I can’t understand the hullabaloo created by (former) Maharashtra chief minister Ashok Chavan and his men over our consulate in Mumbai asking them to carry ID cards when they came to my functions. I can understand them feeling humiliated because they think they are VVIPs, but as Pete Rouse (my new chief of staff at the White House) says, “You don’t know when you are going to be hit by an identity crisis and that’s when the card comes in handy.” I quite understood what Pete was trying to drive home. There are times when one is drawn by some force of nature or momentary lapse of reason to ask existentialist questions like “Who am I? Why am I? And what’s my sun sign?” This has happened to me quite a few times. I clearly remember the first occasion...I was drawing smileys on my notepad in the Oval Office when I was seized by an I-crisis. That’s when I took out my custom-made card to learn that I am Barack (not the Israeli surface-to-air missile Barak) Obama, the President of USA and that I was born a Leo on August 4, 1961. I also understood I am 6”1’ tall and that I married Michelle in 1992 and that we have two daughters. And all this info was accessed in seconds flat. Believe me, there is nothing more wonderful than an ID card or a thoroughbred American beef burger!

Well, that apart, this power is something even the brilliant Nandan Nilekani (who is trying to make every Indian unique with his own version of the ID) swears by. In fact, in one of the coded mails he sent to a former Indian defence secretary (cleverly intercepted by the CIA) he quoted from a thesis by Professor J. Alucard of Transylvania University which proved—citing, in turn, studies worldwide—that identity crisis strikes men more often than cancer or the thirst for good news. Alucard’s study did not include women for some strange reason (although his other study across genders conclusively proves that birth is the primary cause of ageing). Anyway, Pete looked at the CIA input and concluded that Alucard sounds like someone from Kerala. However, Michelle, who is as clever with her words as she is nimble on her feet, pointed out that Alucard was nothing but Dracula written backwards. That made me wonder, was it all a conspiracy, had some ex-KGB guys infiltrated Nandan’s project? However, later it came out that Alucard was actually a dropout from Pennsylvania State University who now lives in Kottayam, Kerala, and has a penchant for sending e-mails (under the pseudonym Prof Alucard) when not riding his moped or plucking coconuts.

Anyway, that aside, let me share my latest I-crisis. It happened on my flight back from Delhi. I woke up with a start and thought I was Manmohan Singh. Luckily, Michelle showed me my ID and averted the mid-air mix-up. Later, while leafing through the coffee-table book on Maharashtra (gifted to me by Ashok Chavan) I came across his resignation letter. Strange that he should have submitted it to me. Did he mistake me for Sonia Gandhi...?

(As imagined by Ajith Pillai)

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