K Raveendran
The Indian electorate, that mystical blend of wisdom and mischief, have done it again. They have yet again proclaimed they can never be taken for granted.
Picture this: silk kurta-clad rulers strutting through constituencies like peacocks on a catwalk. Their arrogance defies both physics and good taste. They believe they’re heaven-sent, not elected. And their entourage? A trail of sycophants thicker than Kerala’s monsoon air. These folks have more entitlement than a royal wedding cake.
But wait, there’s more! These egomaniacs treat public funds like their personal piggy banks. SUVs with flashing lights? They promised the moon and delivered potholes, their speeches filled with more bluster than a monsoon windstorm. They treated dissent with the grace of a bull in a china shop, public outrage meeting with pronouncements about ‘khan market gangs’ and ‘anti-nationals’
But the electorate have a way of humbling even the most arrogant! Democracy, that messy, unpredictable business, has a funny way of turning the tables. Voters, those pesky little things with minds of their own, eventually tire of the gilded cage these politicians build around themselves. The flashing lights lose their lustre, the empty promises curdle like split milk, and the overinflated egos become nothing more than comical hot air balloons, ready to be pricked by the sharp needle of reality.
Prick is what they did with Narendra Modi’s arrogance and body language, which had a complete disconnect with the humble origins that he often touted to win public sympathy. His election campaigns, particularly in the latter rounds of the polling, spewed hatred and the voters caught up with him. While in 2019 he had won the hearts and minds of Muslim women by outlawing triple talaq, this time around he disparaged their motherhood and paid the price.
It is no coincidence that in his Varanasi constituency, his majority was cut to size to less than a couple of lakhs, compared to what was garnered by Rahul Gandhi, for whom he missed no opportunity to despise, in both family turf Rae Bareli and newly-found love of Wayanad.
Ditto the case with Smriti Irani, who had become the poster girl of intolerance in the Modi government. Kishori Lal Sharma, who was described by BJP men as the ‘peon of Gandhi family’ turnout to be her giant killer.
Remember Indira Gandhi experience in her family turf post-Emergency. Now it’s Modi’s turn to sip the bitter brew. The voters have given NDA a truncated mandate to continue the good things Modi has done in his ten-year tenure, but have put him on probation: a situation he could not have imagined even in his scariest nightmare. Not used to any questioning, he now finds himself sandwiched between the most fickle-minded Nitish Kumar, who hops from one coalition to another with remarkable ease, and Chandrababu Naidu, the man from the south whose DNA has been known to carry a genetic disdain for Modi’s old ways. The swearing in of Modi 3.0 has left enough hints about how Narendra Damodardas Modi will have to be a much-mellowed down version of his previous self.
Whenever the need arises, the Indian electorate has shown a high degree of political maturity, evolving from the days of patronage politics to a discerning electorate. A big salute, particularly to the rustic villagers of UP.
