Some years back, when ‘social’ in India was in its teens, grasping and grabbing every eye and ear along the way to its tumor, in one sneaky corner, hid an agenda, so potent yet so silent that none of the drumheads noticed it.
Politics in India changes every day yet stays the same. These are men & women (hardly) who decide the destiny of our Country, yet most of them don’t even know how to write their names in ink. It’s a clan of pseudo-intellectuals trying to solve the unending mystery of a democracy. More than 1.2 Billion people (increasing by the minute) to listen to, who wouldn’t want to turn deaf?
Then at times, the country twists into a paradigm shift. Lines are crossed, people enraged beyond control. It happens mostly when there has been monotony in the ruling Government. One word yields hurls of abuses by the chaiwalas and the mazdoors, ultimately knocking the doors of the middle class and their ration, proceeding swiftly towards the A-classes and the Sunday brunches suddenly become all too ‘mehenga’. ‘The Government is in trouble, bro’.
Like a true Indian mother, who finds her way into mending the most broken of clothes, one tends to find solutions. Here comes into picture the ‘social’, ‘intellectual’ and ‘religious’ cult. They say, we listen, we absorb, we vote.
Now this is not the hardest code to crack. But as they say, timing is the most crucial aspect in Politics. One man saw it coming, long before others woke up from their slumber. He had three hillocks to conquer – the social, the mindful (eh!) and the religious. If you’ve read carefully, you’ll know we’ve reached where we started.
So, the gentleman realized the importance of the transition of ‘social’ in Indian societal architecture. He knew it had to be web, he knew it was his only chance. He prepared a four-letter mantra and started feeding it into the brains of the young suffering from the adversities of a hard economy and a witless Government. It was all they saw hope in. ‘Modi’ had become their only light. There were watches, badges, bags, tees, mugs, mobiles, bands, skins, humans, undershirts, overshirts, midshirts, brainshots and much more to my and your liking.
As they grew, so did the chant. The virus had slowly swept the entire Internet. Till date some of them don’t even know what Modi means. The controls and Vs of keyboards slowly started fading and losing their importance as fingertips befriended them and practice never failed.
The Social was conquered. What remained were the thinkers and the saffron-greens. Saffrons were friends, friends trust easy. Greens were exasperated with digression, searching for alternatives in their hearts; they would always be the gambler’s fallacy.
The grey matter caste would defy the brother at chance. They’re sheer loners, drifting as their interests varied. So he borrowed their cloak to look like one of them and decided that here’s what he could be the best – A social phenomena, wrapped up in a multi-faceted charisma of secularism wearing the thinker’s hat, gambling with all his might to feed the curiosity of more than a billion, along with his own.
With just days left to the battle of 2014, the suspense has reached its epitome, the ‘janta’ struggling to decide between the rights and the wrongs. The mantra has no doubt hit most of the matra. He knows it has worked better than his expectations, skimming his overestimation of the heads of the Aam. I know for one, if Modi is not going to be a DDLJ blockbuster, it is most definitely going to be the ‘Chennai Express’ of our times – no romance, no Gods, only one man, defying all odds.
[An older posts, of course we love our Prime Minister]