By Krishnan Sethu
Mumbai is 8,000 miles from New York, but, now, only a day away when it comes to the latest episode of Game of Thrones, Season Six. And closer still when it comes to the great political game for the grandest prize of them all—the U.S. Presidency.
Every other hour, the internet brings us fresh scoops of Trump ice cream as we brave the summer heat and wait for the rains. The headlines range from the merely mundane (“Trump Wins Again”) to the bizarre (“Hindu Group Prays for Donald Trump to Win”). Sadly, there is no Hillary. (She always seems to be “on ice” as far as the Indian press is concerned, let alone Bernie—“What is that? A milkshake from McDonald’s?”)
Trump is also known in these parts for his Miss Universe beauty contests, with Indian nymphets using that as a springboard to the movies. What can be wrong with the creator of this great and good competition?
The advancing summer also brings out that tropical aphrodisiac—mangoes—in all their variety. Mango connoisseurs walk the grocery aisles sniffing the sweet Kesar, praising the Rajapuri, or triumphantly holding aloft Trump’s only competition, the overrated King Alphonso.
Trump had the foresight to strengthen his India connection when he named his eponymous casino after the Taj Mahal. Little does it matter that the original is a serene mausoleum, with gardens and fountains, meant as a sanctum of peace. Atlantic City beats Agra.
From afar, Trump is quintessentially American. He speaks forcefully in an easily understandable idiom (his expressions of “Love,” as in “I love the poorly educated,” and “Beautiful,” as in “Beautiful! Beautiful! We love Florida,” are truly universal), is surrounded by many glamorous women, and is always shown to be an underdog who is winning. Plus, at 69, we respect his wisdom. Our current President is 80, the Prime Minister a youthful 65.
To the casual young observer brought up on a dose of Marvel super heroes, Trump is the new Captain America ready to “bomb the shit” out of ISIS. “He is hope for humanity against Islamic terror,” said a member of the Hindu group mentioned above praying for his victory.
For an older demographic brought up on cop thrillers from the 1970s he is Dirty Harry with a bad haircut, barely stopping his lunch to chew up the competition. (“My whole life is a big, fat fight.”)
What, you might ask, is the opinion of the middle aged, somewhat bewildered intelligentsia? Well, they have little to say. It is hot, and there are many, many mangoes to eat.
Krishnan Sethu, formerly of NYC, now lives and works as a business analyst in Mumbai, India. For apolitical mango-related advice he can be reached at krishnanset@gmail.com.
