A new problem that I am facing is that everybody thinks I am Marzban Patrawalla and keeps approaching me and offering me votes.
For instance, I was at a cocktail party and the host said: “You are doubly welcome now that you are with Kanshi Ram and can drink, unlike when you were in the Congress and could not drink in public.”
“Who is Kanshi Ram!” I said. “I did not come with any Kanshi Ram, I came on my own.”
“Ha, ha,” laughed the host.” I am glad to see you have not lost your sense of houmour in spite of having to campaign at Bhendi Bazar and Dongri and all those other places where Murli Deora dare not set his foot. Let me introduce you to some of my guests who will all be voting for your Bahujan Samaj.”
A guest in a business suit, to whom I was introduced, said: “Patrawalla, did you say Patrawalla… are you not a Congresswalla?”
“I am most certainly not a Congresswalla,” I said, looking slightly affronted.
“Shh, shh, shh, shh, he is not a Congresswalla,” said another guest in indentical business suit. “He was with the Congress but now he is not, because they did not five him a ticket. Now he is with some party in U.P. or Bihar or somewhere.”
A lady in a ghagra-choli, cut like a Western outfit, said: “I have never been to U.P. and Bihar. I am told the people there are very poor, are you looking after them?”
“Why should I look after the poor of U.P. and Bihar,” I said.
“Well, I just heard you say that you are a politician form there, so is it not your duty to look after them, especially at the time of the elections,” she said.
A guest in Kurta-pajama and jhola on shoulder, who seemed to have gtecrashed, unless he was some old shool friend of the host, joined his hands in namaste to me (he could do this because he was not holding a whiskey glass) and said: “I am so glad people like you are getting into politics, Mr. Patawalla. You are a shining example to all of Cusrow Baug.”
An editor-type said to me in a loud and somewhat aggressive voice: “So what are the chances of your Bahujan Samaj getting together with Samata Party, Samajwadi party, Samajwadi Janata Party and Anand Mohan’s Bihar People’s Party.”
“I am not aware of these parties,” I said.
The editor looked amused and everybody around him smiled. The hostess came around just then and said: “You let Mr. Patrawalla relax. I have promised he will not be pestered with political talk at my house.”
“Madam, there is some mistake,” I said.
“I know there is a mistake and it is my fault, I should have warned everybody in advance not to hassle you,” she said.
After that I decided not to bother to explain any further and left as soon as I could. Outside the doot, I met Mr. Patrawalla, just arriving. He looked at me and said: “What’s the matter, Damania, leaving so soon!”