Diary of the ‘Matdaar Raja’

Image used for representation only

 

There I was on the bedroom balcony, legs perched on the railing, sipping masala chai with the Secret of Nagas on my lap. Oh Nagas! Nagas! It’s ironical because it is election time – a time when King Cobras magically transform into Meek Squirrels.

Just look at them. There they are, with folded hands, looking at me expectantly with a glimmer of hope in their eyes.

There is a barrage of pamphlets, hoardings, fridge magnets, rickshaws and LED displays to go along with it. The scavengers are mastering the art of PR and of omnipresence.
The media industry is happy. This means more than business as usual, lots of bytes and plenty of money. So here I am, the Matdar Raja, enjoying my 15 days in the sun.

Ah, the pampering by all the candidates, Raja to Praja in those 15 days. So cast your vote and forget that you are a part of democracy. Oops! Was that politically incorrect?
Not really. It is politically correct yes, but from a democratic perspective, incorrect. So when you come down to it, what is democracy?

Democracy is defined as a “government by the people, for the people”, according to the dictionary. Well in that case, we are definitely not a democracy. We are more like Bhaicracy.
Bhaicracy can be defined as “Government by the people, for the Bhais”. Or correction – “Government by the people, for the Bhais and their wives”.

That is just in case the Bhai or so called Dada, Nana, Anna is in jail for a crime they never committed! After all, the party presidents wrote the police reports.

Lest we forget, it is also the age of Vahinis and Tais. And of late, juniors have joined in. After all it flows in the blood, right? Vahini is plump, figuratively and literally. She gets a ticket from the party, takes an oath with the senior cadre (read builders, lobbyists, settlers and mafia).

The media asks what the oath was all about. She looks at the camera, smiles coyly, and says, “Oh! So cute!” Well, she has a perfect excuse. She has never stepped out of her house. Now she is on a steroid dose and all pumped up to lead the community.
She has to address issues, implement solutions, interact with citizens and debate in the house. Phew! All of this will surely happen, only if she knows where the Pune Municipal Corporation building is!

On Friday, the candidate comes, folding hands, (read Congress). On Monday, he comes bearing a lotus (read BJP). Then I realised. They are just like me. We both hop parties. The only difference is they do it on Saturday morning and I do it on Saturday evening.
Hypothetically even if I decide to be a part of this Bhaicracy, how do I decide who to vote for? Do I evaluate the candidate – who will only come out of his hibernation every five years, provided he is not in jail?

Do I look at the party – one that boasted of its ideals in the Lok Sabha elections and then fielded goons? Or a party that boasts of a long lived legacy of churning out sophisticated mafias? Or a party that masks its insecurity by attacking “immigrants” from other states?
Well as of now, it seems like I am sitting in a puppet show. The puppets are the candidates, the handlers few. They will get the cheese no matter who is elected.

Done, I have decided. NOTA it is.

Pune365: The views expressed in this column are the Author’s and Pune365 doesn’t necessarily subscribe to them.

Joy Koregaonkar
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