My friend Obama!

Obama's sketch courtesy friend Bhagvan Das

Raju Korti
You stumble upon friends in the most unlikeliest of people and dubitable of situations. After grappling with an irritable medical condition for years, I have found one in my adversity. In few minutes of enlightenment I have concluded that under the circumstances my best and abiding friend is -- justifiably or unjustifiably -- the world's most powerful man.
Thanks to garrulous Media, I found the common chord that binds us two at the extreme ends of the spectrum. United States' first Afro-American President who dropped down on the Indian soil barely twenty-four hours back suffers from the same disorder that my fragile body has been enduring for some time now.
So it was with a first-hand feeling of natural trepidation and second-hand feeling of certified glee that I discovered Obama is discomforted by the same Acid Reflux that has made my battered body its second home.
It is not my case here to burden you with the usual drivel about the roller coaster relations between New Delhi and Washington or Obama's palpable interests in investing India or his country's geopolitical compulsions. Nor do I wish to underline the subservient predilections of the Indian government in dealing with a nation that never stops labeling itself as the greatest democracy in the world.
My immediate concern was the probable predicament on the American President while some of the choicest dishes were laid out for the consumption of his brittle digestive system. For those who do not know, Acid Reflux is a condition where the food gulped down has a nasty habit of navigating back to the throat, resulting in hyper acidity and a feeling of nausea.
I do not know whether Obama battled a feeling a bile or of a drooling saliva when his gastronomic preferences were so robustly challenged with a range of epicurean delights. Though not a word was uttered about Kashmir as hotbed of world terrorism, the Valley made its presence felt through Galauti Kebabs, Mustard Fish, Saunfia Fish Tikka, Chicken Korma, Roasted Leg of Lamb with only a semblance of western involvement in Broccoli and Walnut Soup.
In my new-found love for Obama I wondered how could the Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi with his self-proclaimed 70 mm vision lose the sight of the emphatic advisory that the American President would not touch anything that was even remotely spicy. Quite likely Modi forgot in his overenthusiasm to break the protocol and reach out to him right at the tarmac that a patently Gujarati menu would have served the august guest's revolting stomach better. As someone who has been braving Acid Reflux with more pills than food, I should have been the natural choice to decide the right menu for the American President.
Hugs and protocol smiles are not known to cure Acid Reflux. As first step towards restoring a balance between the American interests in the world and Indian interests that percolate to only immediate neighborhood of South, West and South-East Asia, I suggest a tummy-to-tummy meeting between Obama and me. It will, if nothing, help restore the digestive system of the US, and I dare say this on the basis that my Acid Reflux is far more senior than that of Obama. The Americans have already showed perceptible improvement with their Communist neighbor Cuba. I can bring down the American acidity to a manageable extent.
Modi just needs to give me one chance. Obama will be guaranteed go back with an ear to ear smile and will give me a warmer frontal hug than he did to Modi. Acidity brought us together. Sweetness will do us apart.