It's all so much fun. And so easy. Just hitch a ride on one of those jets your mother uses, take cover behind her steely visage, lap up the adoration of the crowds and then, with flashlights popping, walk up to the mike and say a sentence or two in whatever language they speak out there.It must be easy, it must be fun, because we've seen you, your husband and now your brother as well, laughing, smiling, waving. No big-time Hollywood star ever played an easier crowd. Sooner or later you might have to reconcile with the fact that they don't really want to hear your mother at all, but you'll get over that discomfiture easily. You should. It's in your blood.
But isn't it nice to have such family parties, right across the country? Of course, it's a punishing schedule -- if it's Monday, it must be Mangalore -- but the rigours of the tour schedule the lackeys prepare pale in comparison to the highs of electioneering.
You must be a very trusting person, asking for votes without bothering to question who thosevotes will benefit. We understand. The nitty-gritty of actually meeting candidates and deciding if they're worthy of your support is not something you should be doing. That's for the Little People. Do you ever wonder, when you're up there on the stage, what this is all about? What, when you strip away the glamour, the adulation, the Z category security, do these elections mean? And what will happen if the party nurtured by your father and mother and uncle and grandmother and great-grandfather (we'll stop there) actually wins?
What will you do then? Will you go back to your government bungalow in Delhi, back to the elite, discreet lifestyle, and leave the rest of us to deal with the harvest you've sown? You will, of course, emerge five years later; rather, you'll be trotted out by the same people who are trotting you out today.
Or will you actually deign to soil your hands and take on the reins of the Youth Congress, as almost everyone in the hapless party wants you to? A nice family tradition. Your uncledid it, your grandmother did it. The Nehru-Gandhi Finishing School carries on for another generation.
But those were different times. Your uncle enjoyed himself in that position because he had a mother who looked the other way; your grandmother could because the whole nation looked the other way. Times have changed, and though the spotlight is still on your family it's a harsher light.
Imagine what a drag it would be; boring committee meetings, boring agendas to set, even more boring agendas to follow. Sooner or later you would have to deal, first-hand, with all those people you can now afford to ignore. Sooner or later you'll realise that there is something called accountability. And, unfortunately, sooner or later you'll see that you're not so well-liked (Yes, that day will come. It happened to everyone in your family).
So tell us, Priyanka, what goes on? Who are you asking us to root for? Are you part of that set-up, will you share the rap for their screw-ups? Or are you asking us to vote for you?And if so, what do you represent? What are your dreams for our country, what are your plans for its future?
I think you don't know what's going on. Yes, you know there's an election going on, and that you have to pitch in, but you're not looking beyond that, are you?
I think you're playing with lives here, playing with our dreams, our plans for the future. If you are, and if you get caught, you could regret it.
Politics, Priyanka, is serious business. It's more than rides on helicopters and a self-assured wave; it's about responsibility, about answering for things you have done (not exactly a family trait, but you could be a quick learner). So tell us what you're all about. Tell us why you support the party you campaign for. Tell us what's in it for you. Tell us, Priyanka, before it's too late for either of us.
Copyright © 1998 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.
