I sit at this cafe on Indiranagar Hundred Feet Road. The brand outside is proudly American. The music is seventies Americana nostalgia. The coffees on offer don't even have a whiff of South Indian filter on the menu. The snacks on display have congealed quiches, frozen cookies and supposedly fresh salads there's not anything that resembles a malleswaram maami's larder anywhere in sight. 
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Run baby run:u00a0 For some, Barack Obama's dog Bo seems more important than the electionsu00a0 Pic/Agencies </td></tr></tbody></table>Around me, chatter a bunch of twenty somethings attired in the latest brands, Bluetooth accessories and Bangalorean hip chic. They punctuate their swear words with a smattering of Kannada: their only concession to the madding world outside. From what I can overhear (ok, eavesdrop on) the issues in their lives include some girl dumping one of them, a project report that needs to be delivered like yesterday, the 'awesome' new movie in town, the 'awesome' new guy in college, the 'awesome' new bike one of them has picked up, and the weighty crisis of whether to pick up an i-pod or a mere lesser Chinese brand that is simply (sigh, you got it!) "awesome!". The largest elections in the world seem to play no part in their lives. Trifles like Prime Ministers, poverty and parochial parties seem to escape them completely. But then you have to admit, Bo is far more important in their lives than the Bharatiya Elections. When Barack swept into power and into the White House, his Colgate-perfect family had only one flaw: there was no pet to scamper around the Oval Office. So the hunt for the perfect First Dog was launched. German Shepherds were rejected as too Aryan. Pekingese were denada-ed in case the Presidential family inadvertently created a diplomatic boo boo you can't pull a Chinese tail, now can you? African breeds were nixed off the list, as that would be seen as Obama favouring his ancestry. Cocker spaniels? Naah, too girlie. Dobermans? Too ferocious.u00a0 Great Danes? Well, too Danish. Finally the political pundits, the campaign advisors, the White House Chief of Staff and the Governors of all the important states zeroed in on one perfect pet: A Portugese Water Dog. It was neither too long haired nor too short haired (So the Prez wouldn't be seen making a pro-comment on Beatniks or Buzz Heads.) and neither too small nor too large. Its Portugese ancestry sounded exotic enough, so the Obamas could be seen as concerned about the world - without making a statement about a powerful country. Which is when the campaigning for a perfect name began. The whizkids and the Pentagon finally agreed on Bo. It sounded American enough. As well as being distinctly a phonetic French "Beau" so when the First Lady of France next connected, Obama could whisper into her ears, that she was just like his dog: tres beau!u00a0 At the cafe I sit in, Americana like Bo, New York holidays and Fifth Avenue stores are now being avidly discussed. Really, so much more crucial than casting your ballot.

Country first!

I sit at this cafe on Indiranagar Hundred Feet Road. The brand outside is proudly American.

Bos versus ballots

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Bos versus ballots

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