To SIR with love

The assembly elections in five of India’s states, which includes one Union Territory is now, mercifully, over. Or, is it? The aftermath of this enfranchising exercise will linger on for several days, if not weeks. Chief Ministers have to be named, hopefully without acrimony. Where there is little doubt as to who the CM will be, as is the case in Tamil Nadu, a different challenge in arriving at a simple majority, involving scrounging around for support from pliant candidates from other parties, is in progress. Palm grease is retailing at a premium. This is one instance where the Governor of the state, otherwise a decorative figurehead, takes centre stage and the Tamil Nadu Governor is making the most of it. Some might even aver that he is making a right royal meal of it.

 An erstwhile leading, and now rapidly fading, Congress has already jumped ship from its declared ally, the DMK, to extend support to a party led by a celluloid demigod – a trademark of Tamil Nadu politics. A Faustian pact, many would characterise this as. An ought-to-be-outgoing Chief Minister, the pugnacious Mamata Banerjee, refuses to recognise that she has been resoundingly defeated at the hustings. Apparently, nobody told her. Crying foul, she continues to sit on her erstwhile throne, liberally smearing it with Araldite. The concerned authorities might need the services of a crowbar to unseat her. As I pen this, I note that brand Fevicol, with its sharp sense of satire and topicality, has been quick off the blocks to take advantage of the adhesive parallel. Good on them.

Even in ‘God’s Own Country’ Keralam, where the UDF coalition has won handsomely, the CM’s post continues to be a matter for intense speculation and deliberation, if not contention. In Assam, there are no Doubting Thomases as the cherubic Himanta Biswa Sarma of the BJP sings and dances his way to a thumping victory, third time running. In the midst of all the excitement the Union Territory of Puducherry is all but forgotten – a mere footnote. ‘It’s all happening,’ as some of our cricket commentators love to say. As to what exactly is happening is a matter of considerable befuddlement.

I felt it might be a good idea to buttonhole a representative from each of these parties, winner or loser, and get some idea of what their party bosses feel about the results just announced. Obviously, it had to be necessarily a junior functionary, as most of the seniors were busy cadging, cajoling and generally carrying on, plotting and planning. Winning or losing an election is one thing. What happens once the verdict is in (or out) is another kettle of fish altogether. As I could scarcely be expected to travel by air to the various destinations, my pockets being extremely shallow, the internet and my mobile phone had to be my instruments of choice to get a word in edgeways with these party apparatchiks. For the most part it was a hit-or miss affair. Even when someone finally, after several tries, came on the line, I had to take his or her word for it that I was speaking to the genuine article, in a manner of speaking. To kick off, I called the Kolkata HQ of the BJP.

‘Hullo, good morning. Who am I speaking to? Sorry, you want to know who I am first? Fair point. I am a nobody really, just a freelancer who does not have the clout of any of the big media houses. The findings of this interview will not appear in any newspaper or periodical. Just in my weekly blog, which is read by not more than 17 people, at last count. TV? Certainly not. This is not a video call. You will put me on to someone? A karyakarta? Great.’

I then wait for about 15 minutes while the music on hold plays Saint Tulsidas’ Shri Ramachandra Kripalu Bhajman on an endless loop. It was so hypnotic I fell into a trance. Finally, someone comes on the line.

‘Jai Shri Ram. I can give you two minutes. One question only. Shoot.’

I shoot. ‘Since Mamata Banerjee is literally stuck to her chair, how are you planning to unseat her? And since you said shoot, can you also tell me who shot your leader Shuvendu Adhikari’s most trusted aide?’

‘That is a very good question, I mean about Mamata Didi. They have applied so much Fevicol on her seat that nobody is able to unstick her. Her party colleagues have all scooted looking for fresh jobs, most of them waiting outside our office. We have approached the R&D people from the Fevicol company. They are on their way with chemicals and other implements. We, who are now the ruling party, are trying to be helpful, despite her intransigence.’

After that the line went dead. Two minutes were over. I must say he surprised me by using words like intransigence. It was also clear that he was unwilling to volunteer an opinion on the assassination of Mr. Adhikari’s aide.

Next port of call, the TMC. The phone rang for several minutes. Finally, a lady’s gruff voice came on the line with a terse ‘Yes?’

‘Good morning, I am an independent, unbiased blogger. May I speak to someone, however junior he or she may be, and get a statement on what your party’s next move will be, after the recent electoral reversal?’

‘There is no one here right now. They have all gone looking for jobs or hunting for experts on adhesives. What do you want?’ The lady sounded quite annoyed. Why, I have no idea, but I persevered.

‘In that case is it possible to get a statement from the former Chief Minister, Mamata Banerjee?’

‘Mamata Didi to you, you little twerp. And don’t you dare say former Chief Minister. And it is she you are speaking to.’

‘Oh, I am so sorry Didi. I was not expecting you to answer the phone. I hope I am not disturbing you.’ I was very apologetic.

‘I have no option but to answer the phone. I am irretrievably glued to this chair and they have all run away, leaving the party helpline phone on my lap. I can give you one question. I am in a foul mood.’

I could sense that by her tone. I was also taken aback that she knew words like ‘twerp’ and ‘irretrievably,’ leave alone how to pronounce them. Derek O’Brien must have been coaching her. Anyhow, her coming on the line was a huge bonus. I went ahead and popped the question. ‘Didi, were you defeated at the polls because of the Special Intensive Revision, SIR?’ I waited for her response with bated breath.

‘What a stupid question! Why am I even talking to you? Of course it is SIR, what else? SIR, SIR, SIR, SIR, SIR! Only SIR. Nothing else. Bhujeccho? What is wrong with you? Maatha kharaab? You must be a BJP agent. I will find out your number and you will be taken care of. Once I am able to get out of this chair.’

Then the line went dead.

After that I lost all interest in speaking to anybody else. Although I speak fluent colloquial Tamil I cannot, for the life of me, follow what people like Stalin and EPS are saying in their Dravida bhasha. As for Vijay he has decided, for now at least, to follow the dictum, ‘Silence is golden.’ Wise man. He has been kept fully occupied running up and down to and from the Governor’s residence. He has been given the right, royal runaround. He should take time off and watch a CSK game at Chepauk and indulge in some ‘whistle podufying.’ Who knows, Dhoni might hobble in, calf strain notwithstanding, to slam a six or two in the TVK Chief’s honour. A few selfies of the ‘two thalas’ won’t hurt the optics either.

That leaves Assam, Keralam and Puducherry. These are constituencies where the winners have enjoyed a cakewalk and the losers have not applied adhesives to their chairs. Furthermore, they have not resorted to using foul three-letter words like SIR. In short, they have nothing spicy to contribute and I deplore bland interviews. Having said that, I will have to deny myself the immense pleasure, however remote, of getting the dulcet-toned Shashi Tharoor (‘He on honey-dew hath fed’) on the line. He will, naturally, speak in English with me as my Malayalam is virtually non-existent. However, that is not a foolproof guarantee that I will follow every word the silver-tongued Parliamentarian utters.

Finally, here is hoping that in a few days’ time all the five Chief Ministers will be duly sworn in and none will be sworn at.