Two friends visit Parliament and rate Budget session

The phone rang. "Suleiman!" A familiar voice crackled over the line.

"Hello, Anwarbhai," Suleiman Khan replied, placing one hand over his ear to hear his friend over the cacophony around him.

"Where on earth are you, Suleiman," Anwar Sheikh asked, as the sounds of people and traffic reverberated in his phone.

"I'm at Jumeirah Plaza mall in Dubai, Anwarbhai, doing some shopping. Here on a short visit. Things in Saudi aren't that great these days."

"Really," asked Anwar. "How so?"

"Well, the collapse in oil prices has hit the economy hard. The princes are thinking of stopping subsidies to people. Petrol prices are up and they may even introduce a value added tax."

Anwar made sympathetic sounds as Suleiman continued: "I'm thinking of relocating to Dubai, Anwarbhai. More stable. And they don't lash or behead people."

Anwar changed the subject. "Listen, Suleiman, I've got two visitors' passes for the post-Budget debate in Parliament. You must come. I'll introduce you to lots of MPs. If we're lucky we may even run into Sonia Gandhi and Rahul Gandhi. They are so classy, na?"

Suleiman nodded excitedly. "Yes, yes Anwarbhai, that would be great. I'll take the first flight out of Dubai to Delhi. Let's plan our Parliament visit while they're still debating the Budget.

Anwar picked up Suleiman at Indira Gandhi International airport the next day. "Nice flight?" he asked, looking at Suleiman's bags with an Emirates tag.

"Lovely. They upgraded me to Business. Watched a movie, Haider, on my personal video screen." Suleiman grimaced as he said that.

Anwar looked at him sharply as they drove out of the airport. "Nice movie, Haider, no?"

"Not really," said Suleiman. "I have relatives in the Kashmir Valley and they tell me the movie was like it was written by separatists. You know the type, Anwarbhai."

Anwar shifted uneasily in his seat. Suleiman was frank, too frank at times.

They arrived at Anwar's South Delhi home, settled down to a mutton biryani dinner and chalked out a plan for their visit to Parliament House the next day.

The two friends arrived at gate 12 of Parliament by 9.45am. They showed their security-cleared passes at the gate and deposited their mobile phones in a small glass-encased cabin where a surly officer laboriously noted down their details in a register. He gave then a round blue token to reclaim their mobiles on their way out of Parliament.

More security pat-downs followed. "After the Parliament attack in 2001, the security has been beefed up," said Anwar as they walked towards the open grounds in front of the steps leading up to Parliament House.

They walked past the private office rooms of various political leaders with name plates on each door. Suddenly Suleiman's eyes widened. "See Anwarbhai," he said pointing to a heavy wooden door with the name plate Sonia Gandhi. "Do you think she'll be in her Parliament office room now?"

"No Suleiman, she's already in the Lok Sabha. The post-Budget debate begins at 11.00 am sharp."

Suleiman continued to glance at the name plates on the doors to his right as they continued walking down the corridor. Ram Vilas Paswan…Ravi Shankar Prasad…Arun Jaitley...the names flashed by.

As they made their way to the visitors' gallery, Anwar nudged Suleiman. "That's Rahul there in the second row, sitting next to - "

"The young man with a sullen expression on his face," interrupted Suleiman.

Anwar looked at him disapprovingly. "That's Jyotiraditya Scindia, Suleiman," he said, dropping his voice respectfully. "He's royalty."

"I know, Anwarbhai," Suleiman said soothingly. "So why does he look so sullen all the time? And why does Rahul cover his face with the palm of his hand? Is he naturally shy?"

Anwar nudged Suleiman gently on his side with his elbow. "Quiet, Suleiman. Parliament rules for visitors are strict. We can't talk loudly and we can't even shift position. The marshals will evict us otherwise."

Suleiman was thoroughly confused. "But Anwarbhai," he whispered, "MPs shout and scream at the speaker - no one evicts them!"

"They're MPs, Suleiman," Anwar said exasperatedly. Shouting is part of their job."

The Budget debate began. Suleiman watched in fascination. Finance minister Arun Jaitley defended his Budget proposals vigorously as Prime Minister Narendra Modi looked on impassively.

"Modi's changed his hairstyle!" said Suleiman suddenly, nudging Anwar. "He's swept his hair back like Shahrukh Khan. Must be watching too many Bollywood movies." Suleiman cracked up at his own joke but fell silent as a marshal directed a stern gaze at him.

During the lunch break, the two friends sauntered out. They ran into a short, silver-haired man giving his take on the Budget to a bank of TV cameras. "That's Ashwani Kumar, the former UPA minister who resigned during the Coalgate scam," Anwar said.

The camera crews suddenly abandoned Ashwani and rushed towards Rahul Gandhi as he emerged down the steps of Parliament.

"Sir!" A TV reporter from an English news channel accosted Rahul. He smiled, mildly embarrassed, dimples on display.

"I'm in a hurry," he said. "Just one question, please."

The TV reporter, jostled by other crew, said breathlessly, "Sir, how do you rate this budget on a scale of 0 to 10?"

"Minus 1," said Rahul, a frown replacing the smile. "It's a suit-boot ki sarkar budget dressed up in a dhoti-kurta to fool our farmers."

Impressed with his own wit and flanked by a kurta-clad brigade of young MPs, Rahul marched off.

"Are they going to have lunch in Parliament's subsidised canteen?" Suleiman asked.

"Of course not," said Anwar. "They are going to a five-star hotel to have New Zealand lamb. The Taj Palace does lamb really well. Tender, melts in your mouth." It's only Rs 2,300 a plate."

There was a sudden flurry of excitement among the battalions of TV crew as two women walked down the steps of Parliament hand in hand.

"That's Smriti Iraniji and Mayawatiji," said Anwar.

Suleiman was bewildered." I thought Smritiji had promised to cut off her head and give it to Mayawatiji if her statement on Rohith was proved false on the floor of the House."

Anwar looked at his friend indulgently. "They're politicians, Suleiman."

Suleiman shrugged. "Let's go to Taj Palace for that New Zealand lamb," he said to Anwar, eyes twinkling with mischief. We may even run into Rahul. I want to ask him where he gets those grey Lacoste T-shirts."