The Election Commission has announced that the process to elect India's next government will begin by the end of next month. Naturally there is a frenzy in party circles. Who doesn't want a big slice of the electoral pie? The problem, of course, is to wittily capture the electorate's attention and their votes. So here's what we culled from our excursions to party offices in the past few days.
AT THE CONGRESS OFFICE:
"He has said he is not averse to being prime minister," said one khadi-clad worthy, "but who wants him as PM?" Contemplated another: "Should we even name a prime ministerial candidate? What if the party doesn't win the elections under his leadership? Can we make him resign from the post of Wannabe Prime Minister?" The gist of all such ruminations was that propping up the party vice-president in his present avatar wouldn't enthuse anybody, not Salman Khan, not Kalawati, not even Digvijaya. "We need something new to offer," one bright spark said, to the admiring gaze of other khadi-clad worthies around. "Of course, we can't change the old, so the old must look new, or at least made to look like new," reiterated another. All agreed. So last heard, they were saying they should go with a slogan that says, "India Singing: an old tune with a new RaGa."
AT THE BJP OFFICE:
"Our only rival will be that Arvind Kejriwal fellow, that is if his party doesn't self-destruct in the months leading up to the Lok Sabha elections," said a mustachioed politico, brushing his podgy paws against his eyes. Apparently, some of the saffron powder smeared boldly across his forehead had got into his eyes and affected his vision. "Well what does he have that Narendra Modiji doesn't?" asked his friend, pulling at his green and saffron angavastram. "Well, for one, Modiji doesn't look like an aam aadmi in his spiffy kurtas," answered the first. "That Kejriwal is winning over the man in the night shelter with the muffler-around-his-ears act." The friend continued, "So what we really want is for us to win the votes that would otherwise go to that Kejriwal fellow, don't we?" The mustachioed man nodded, again wiping his vision-impaired eyes. They sat deep in thought for a while, fiddling with the red strings around their wrists. "Okay, I have got it," said the heavyweight finally, once again wiping his blurry eyes. "Let us take that Kejriwal's votes by deception. Our slogan will be 'AAPka vote hamay dijiye'."
AT THE TRINAMOOL CONGRESS OFFICE:
I was a bit confused when I reached the Trinamool Congress office, having gone past roadblocks put up by their dissident MPs. Even from afar, I could hear shouting, screaming and general enthusiasm, but all I could make out was "Vote for Modi, vote for Modi, vote for Modi." I double-checked with a policeman in an originally-white-now-grey uniform whether I was in the right place. "Aapani theek jaigai aachhe," he said reassuringly. Puzzled why shouts of 'Vote for Modi' should be emanating from the three-petalled party's office, I wondered whether Mamata Banerjee had read the signs and decided to align her party with BJP, just as she had once done when Atal Bihari Vajpayee headed the central government. I approached the office, almost expecting the spiffy-kurta-clad Gujarati to be the new man in the "maa, maati, manush" equation. Inside, there were the usual goonish types, exercising their vocal cords to the maximum. I pulled one to the side. "Is your party now allying with Narendra Modi?" I asked. He looked at me and snarled, "Get lost, why would we be with BJP?" I needed to know, so I dared further, "Why 'Vote for Modi' then?" He looked witheringly at me. "If Congress can have RaGa and BJP, NaMo, why can't Momota didi be MoDi?"
AT THE CONGRESS OFFICE:
"He has said he is not averse to being prime minister," said one khadi-clad worthy, "but who wants him as PM?" Contemplated another: "Should we even name a prime ministerial candidate? What if the party doesn't win the elections under his leadership? Can we make him resign from the post of Wannabe Prime Minister?" The gist of all such ruminations was that propping up the party vice-president in his present avatar wouldn't enthuse anybody, not Salman Khan, not Kalawati, not even Digvijaya. "We need something new to offer," one bright spark said, to the admiring gaze of other khadi-clad worthies around. "Of course, we can't change the old, so the old must look new, or at least made to look like new," reiterated another. All agreed. So last heard, they were saying they should go with a slogan that says, "India Singing: an old tune with a new RaGa."
AT THE BJP OFFICE:
"Our only rival will be that Arvind Kejriwal fellow, that is if his party doesn't self-destruct in the months leading up to the Lok Sabha elections," said a mustachioed politico, brushing his podgy paws against his eyes. Apparently, some of the saffron powder smeared boldly across his forehead had got into his eyes and affected his vision. "Well what does he have that Narendra Modiji doesn't?" asked his friend, pulling at his green and saffron angavastram. "Well, for one, Modiji doesn't look like an aam aadmi in his spiffy kurtas," answered the first. "That Kejriwal is winning over the man in the night shelter with the muffler-around-his-ears act." The friend continued, "So what we really want is for us to win the votes that would otherwise go to that Kejriwal fellow, don't we?" The mustachioed man nodded, again wiping his vision-impaired eyes. They sat deep in thought for a while, fiddling with the red strings around their wrists. "Okay, I have got it," said the heavyweight finally, once again wiping his blurry eyes. "Let us take that Kejriwal's votes by deception. Our slogan will be 'AAPka vote hamay dijiye'."
AT THE TRINAMOOL CONGRESS OFFICE:
I was a bit confused when I reached the Trinamool Congress office, having gone past roadblocks put up by their dissident MPs. Even from afar, I could hear shouting, screaming and general enthusiasm, but all I could make out was "Vote for Modi, vote for Modi, vote for Modi." I double-checked with a policeman in an originally-white-now-grey uniform whether I was in the right place. "Aapani theek jaigai aachhe," he said reassuringly. Puzzled why shouts of 'Vote for Modi' should be emanating from the three-petalled party's office, I wondered whether Mamata Banerjee had read the signs and decided to align her party with BJP, just as she had once done when Atal Bihari Vajpayee headed the central government. I approached the office, almost expecting the spiffy-kurta-clad Gujarati to be the new man in the "maa, maati, manush" equation. Inside, there were the usual goonish types, exercising their vocal cords to the maximum. I pulled one to the side. "Is your party now allying with Narendra Modi?" I asked. He looked at me and snarled, "Get lost, why would we be with BJP?" I needed to know, so I dared further, "Why 'Vote for Modi' then?" He looked witheringly at me. "If Congress can have RaGa and BJP, NaMo, why can't Momota didi be MoDi?"
Free Run is a fortnightly look at alternate realities joel.rai@bsmail.in