The Overused Broom

Within a year of springing a massive surprise for Modi at the centre, people gave still bigger surprise to Kejriwal in the Delhi assembly elections. Kejriwal had become Delhi Chief Minister, for the second time, and vowed to manage more prudently this time.

Of all the millions happy, unhappy, jubilant and sad souls lost in the crowded hubbub in Delhi, he was nursing his share of injuries. He was no money-making contractor, he was no real-estate property dealer, he was no builder or an industrialist either. He was a mere grassroots level social worker. He had his common dreams of bringing the real change beyond the hypothetical clamouring, the selling of dreams. When Kejriwal landed on the poor man’s stage, the aam aadmi’s stage, with broom in his hand and a vow to swipe away their miseries, he had appeared a messiah to him, a great sacrificer who had kicked a highly prestigious job to speak out the voice of the masses. He had believed in him. While Kejriwal build up hopes in many poor minds and famished hearts, he did his share of clearing the slums and gutters, taking it as the new revolution. It was no politics, it was beyond that. Despite many voices to the contrary, he believed in it.

During the previous elections when Kejriwal had played the mastercard of fielding the poorest of the poor next door people, giving hope to every tom, dick and harry that he or she can not only be an MLA, but even a minister. But much water had gone down the gutters to further pollute Yamuna since then. The social movements are easier to shout, political parties are harder to manage. It needs to be a smart politician to manage a party, and run it as per your whims like you run your business. It needs money as well, and lots and lots for that matter. Beyond the symbolism of turning sweepers into ministers it needed money and people with clout to survive as a party against the seasoned soldiers already in the fray having money, muscle and legacy.

To dream a political dream is everybody’s right, more so in a democracy, and still further so in the world’s largest democracy. So he had also dreamed. While his hopes gradually dismantled, as he worked more and more vociferously in the streets, in the nukkad sabhas, in the slums spread the message and ideology, his chances were becoming slimmer to get the contesting tick, to become an MLA, to carry out his dreams of a still better society. The times had definitely changed. The Aam Aadmi Party was not just the motley group of social activists; it was a political party with all the traditional requirements to succeed against the stronger claimants to the throne. The more he worked, the more distant he became from the party patriarch, and more so as the dates of announcing the AAP candidate from his constituency drew closer. The day in fact arrived and his dreams shattered and his belief finally broken that in indeed it is politics, nothing more, no revolution. He lay in his room. A successful contractor who had spent his life in making money and building clout had grabbed the ticket. The poor social worker was left with his broom to clean his house that had missed many a cleaning while he went out of his way to clean wherever he found the space and time to do it.

He was lying sullen, broken and sad. As a wounded man he was putting question mark at AAP’s changing priorities to field more suitable candidates and leave genuine workers like him cleaning the slums with broom. He was accusing, with his whole self. He had even shouted aloud when the news had been broken to him.   

Most of the AAP MLA contestants can be easily farmed for fraudulent charges!

For most of the time while he had devoted his selfless services in just return for mere bread and butter, the Delhi NCR saw unprecedented real estate boom for the last two decades. It had created a niche class of property dealers who used muscles, politico-bureaucratic links and a tendency to look over the small hedge of legalities, to become really rich. In the same chain of development, there were contractors or thekedars who climbed the ladder of prosperity very smoothly by stage-managing things at many levels. At the state level, the moment a property dealer or contractor gets to a level wherein he can afford to loiter around after political guns in the area in his SUV with a bunch of ideal thugs, he jumps into the political bandwagon. These new political hatchlings mostly join the regional outfits because the latter have very strong identity-based politics for the local population.

So over the last two decades, while he just added more grey hair to his head with his social service, Delhi got its rich share of crorepatis. They had achieved all. Since every rich Indian inherits a political tendency, these newly rich politically ambitious groups of people either sneaked into the BJP or the Congress. But there were still scores of such political aspirants left for the AAP to be welcomed with their stashes of currencies. He did not qualify to enter the political party because he had no clout, no money. As it is, in a crowded mess like India the eligible seats for political representation have severe limitations to accommodate the huge number of newly rich people eyeing legislative assemblies. The AAP patriarch smartly smelt the political hunger in this big section of newly rich contractors and property dealers, just like he had smelt the activist hunger in the revolution-aspirants in the civil society. The grand social worker, Anna, and the smaller hatchling, the social worker of our anecdote, nameless, just extra enthusiastic, both had served their means to a particular end. The newly rich and the locally influential crop of political dreamers were the ones that counted now.

To help the AAP in raising its political platform these left-out political aspirants were in a position to donate crores for the noble cause. From his personal experience the ruminating activist, left out in the race to get the MLA ticket, recalled, with simmering wounded soul, very decent-sized queues of crorepatis seeking ticket for contesting assembly elections. They donated like anything. The party of the common man was pitted against the party of the rich and thus needed more money to run and operate in a corporate manner to beat the rivals to fetch victory for the masses. His broom now resting in his room, he helplessly witnessed and yelled at anybody interested in listening to him that inside the room the AAP was filling its coffers with money from these newly wealthy cherubs; at the public platform they were ensnaring the poorest of the poor through their politics of symbolism in the form of same jersey, same old car, same muffler, and what not.

He condemned the tsunami type victory, carried by hollow symbolism and less of substance. It propelled all and sundry, raw, immature crorepatis and even some lucky but smarter than him social activists to the legislative seats. He knew it well that very rarely can the paths from the contractorship, property dealing and even social activism (mostly as a profession) avoid illegalities. He had been successful himself in not falling in the trap of such shortcuts. But that sounded like a mistake now. He knew many of the AAP MLAs who could be found guilty of provable indiscretion. His soul was burning that with proper case studies into the history of these MLA hatchlings they can be easily put in the dock.

He was hoping the BJP and the Congress were listening to his soul’s raving. But he had now apprehensions that the BJP will allow the AAP to grow to some manageable size, because AAP’s growth would be only at the cost of the Congress. Spitting out dejectedly he realised that the AAP and the Congress are into the politics of symbolism that pacifies and pampers the bruises of those deprived socially, politically and economically.

While he was prognosticating doomsday for the AAP for having cheated the genuine workers like him, a more practical person told him:

The BJP will not totally wipe away Kejriwal. Despite best political brand management, the traditional BJP vote bank has remained the same. So now the effort seems to divide the non-BJP votes. Congress ruled for six decades with hollow symbolism that ultimately busted as the poorest of the poor remained the same and its Ministers broke all records of corruption. As a new-born baby that is yet to get its skin tainted with sunburns, the AAP is trying to shift Congress loss to its favour.  

He was watching the oath-taking ceremony on TV now. With a sunken heart and dejected spirit, he looked at the broom lying in the corner. He did not feel like picking it up even to clean his room.