In the world of enforced binaries that pointlessly pits Kishore against Rafi, Microsoft against Apple, Beatles against The Rolling Stones, The Economic Times against The Times of India, when it comes to the Sushmita vs Aishwarya stakes, I have always chosen the zen Sen. This was never because she’s Bengali – she’s as Bengali as Rishi Sunak is Kenyan-Tanganyikan – but because she is sharp, a high cheek-boned single mother, and has a laugh that seems as genuine as mahogany.
Sen was, is, and always will be four years younger than me. She was, is and always will also be above my pay grade. So, when I heard on a dull, dreary Thursday evening that she is – to use a late 20th century phrase – going around with Modi, my heart sank and rose again in quick succession in a Madhuri dhak-dhak systolic-diastolic.
It sunk because Modi, in my opinion, falls short of her – by more than a few inches. It rose again because, at the cost of sounding cheesy, she looks happy.
The nation that needs to know more upon knowing the existence of this jodi – including Sen’s brother Rajeev who was ‘pleasantly surprised too,’ adding ominously, ‘I will talk to my sister about this’ – doesn’t seem to have taken Modi’s tweetheart very well. It has largely been a classic case of ‘PNPC,’ which in Sen’s (and my) Bengali means ‘poro ninda, poro charcha,’ or ‘bitching about others, discussing about others’.
Much of this PNPC has been about Sen’s choice as partner – the man who invented IPL, a man about (London) town, and who, by his own admission, doesn’t live like a hermit. ‘She did it for his money’ may not seem like a novel jibe, but it’s still good old misogyny. And much PNPC has been about Sen’s ex, about whom, to be honest, I learnt about only on Thursday.
Modi seems a swell guy with nice ties (clothing accessory, not contacts). His enthusiasm to tell the world about his girlfriend – ‘just back in London after a whirling global tour #maldives #sardinia with the families – not to mention my #betterhalf @sushmitasen47 – a new beginning a new life finally. Over the moon.’ – is quite charming, a word I’d never thought I’d use with him.
Just back in london after a whirling global tour #maldives # sardinia with the families – not to mention my #better… https://t.co/D6lPzVPS6B
— Lalit Kumar Modi (@LalitKModi) 1657828972000
For a few hours, the nation pondered about whether Modi and Sen had married or… [the collective hive mind drew a blank as to any other option]. Modi confirmed a bit later in another tweet, ‘Just for clarity. Not married – just dating each other,’ adding cryptically (and ungrammatically), ‘That too it will happen one day’ followed by four namaste emojis that social scientists on social media analysed till Saturday evening.
When a couple decides to make their coupleness and love public – not through any PR mechanism but via their own PA system – everyone’s inner Auntie comes alive. They become insanely curious. Why are they sharing their lovey-dovey pictures? Why is Modi not wearing a tie? Where is Sardinia?
The fact that Sen is looking very happy – and beautiful – in all the images with Modi that he tweeted should make all of us realise the beauty of social media: it makes PDA acceptable in our RWA world. In fact, what the ‘Modi loves Sen’ announcements and photos do are two things. One, they make us reconsider our dogma that Modi is incapable of appreciating life beyond wrist watches, IPL cheerleaders, and neckties. Two, they make us realise that for Sushmita Sen, Lalit Modi hai to mumkin hai.
As for those who are dying to say, ‘I told you so’ if things go from Sardinia to sardonic someday, die another day.