There are a couple of good indicators that make a political rally go in the capital: one is the extent and orderliness of the security bandobast; the other is the sheer strength of media attendance. On both counts, Narendra Modi's meeting in Seelampur in Delhi's North-East constituency on Wednesday evening was an example of the strategic advance planning and adroit stage management that mark the selling of a prime minister in 2014.
It was the opening day of Mr Modi's election campaign. He began the morning in Udhampur outside Jammu, followed by Bulandshahr in western Uttar Pradesh and ended in Delhi. Practised political performers are like Bollywood adepts - they're used to having their dialogue changed at every retake - and his script was shrewdly tweaked and updated for each location. In Udhampur, he warned of three AK threats (Pakistan's AK 47, Defence Minister A K Antony and AK49, that is, Arvind Kejriwal's 49-day government); in Uttar Pradesh, he thundered about the contest between a naamdar shehzada (high-born prince) and kaamdar chaiwala (working-class tea vendor); and in Delhi, he touched on issues from the December 16 gang rape to trashing the Congress party's manifesto, which was released a few hours earlier. In Delhi, he also peppered his speech with English phrases like "shehzade ka brainchild" and "political pundit se lekar aam matdaata tak".
Up-to-the-minute script changes mean he either rewrites his speeches every few hours or is accompanied by speechwriters. As he proposes to clock 200 districts (and 300 constituencies) in the coming five weeks of "Bharat Vijay" rallies, there is careful scrutiny of detail, from his lines (to ensure fresh feeds for 24x7 television) to on-the-ground organisation (the rally had many showbiz attributes, from a thumping soundtrack, chairs for the public, a distant but well-lit stage, and snack boxes for the 200-strong media contingent).
North-East Delhi is a densely populated working class trans-Yamuna district, with pockets of Dalits and Muslims, but a strong component of 60,000 Poorvanchali voters. To this end, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has fielded a 41-year-old chart-topping Bhojpuri actor and singer, Manoj Tiwari, star of films such as Daroga Babu I Love You and the reality show Bigg Boss, against the Congress incumbent J P Aggarwal, the sitting member of Parliament since 2009. Mr Tiwari appeared on stage in a pair of jeans, blue kurta and white jacket, spoke and sang a little, but was singularly unimpressive. No one paid him much attention. Asked why they would vote for an unknown outsider, many in the audience echoed the words of a local accountant, Vijay Prabhakar, who said, "It doesn't matter if Manoj Tiwari dropped by parachute here. We're only here for Narendra Modi."
This isn't surprising. In December's Assembly elections, the BJP won five of the 10 member of Legislative Assembly (MLA) seats; the party also controls the municipal corporation. That alone would guarantee a full house - but there was a new charge of enthusiasm, not visible at Mr Modi's rallies during the Delhi election. Young men held aloft saffron-and-green banners, waved Modi masks, wore Modi T-shirts and chanted "Har Har Modi, Har Ghar Modi". A few went round with Aam Aadmi Party (AAP)-style donation boxes inscribed with "Mission 272 + for Modi".
Going by numbers, it wasn't a large rally. At its peak, the crowded ground - bordered by a periphery of erstwhile shanties converted into three- or four-storeyed houses - held about 10,000 people. But as one of the party's numerous media handlers, a well-spoken young man assisting German and Japanese crews, modestly explained: "It is what we call a sabha, a local meeting. It is not a big show."
Mr Modi arrived at 8 p m, fashionably late by two hours, in a crisp yellow kurta and pale saffron jacket. The rapturous crowd hollered, "Modi, Modi." By then the assembled BJP worthies on stage, candidates like Harsh Vardhan and Ramesh Bidhuri, had droned on too long. By comparison, Narendra Modi, brushing aside the bullet-proof screen, in well-modulated but fully "voice-produced" tones, packed in a punchy performance. He dripped sarcasm against the Congress shehzada and its "B-team", the AAP. He supported his attack on the Congress' policies on the economy, minorities, Dalits and women's security, with specific examples. He didn't ramble, fumble and was mercifully brief. Posing graciously for photo ops and presentation of posies for a few minutes, he was done and dusted in half an hour.
It may not have been a "big show", but it was showtime all right.
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