Remember: what is, is not, what is not, is. Recall: Atal Behari Vajpayee is speaking on Saturday. He smiles, laughs, talks in such a relaxed, indulgent manner you think he has just won the vote of confidence. Then there is the fracas over Orissa Chief Minister Gamang-o-or-no; and the first missed heartbeat. Still, you're lulled by the calm confidence of the Treasury benches. Why look, they're cooler than a cooler (and in Delhi these days, that's mighty cool). Suddenly, the Speaker rules, explains the rules of the game, advises Laloo Yadav to wear his headphones and calls for the vote. The heart quickens to the weird beeps of the electronic voting system. You hear people counting; you can't see the numbers clearly, too many MPs are standing in your way but there's a pounding in your ears. First count ... Ah, here it is: Ayes: 269 Nayes 270. Arrividerci, Atal.

Last week belonged to the lady in the cloak. Whenever she appears on television -- and in the past one month those appearances have been more frequent than anybody else's, begging Mr Pramod Mahajan's pardon -- you wonder: cloak ke peechhe kya hai? For the good doctor is even more of an enigma wrapped in a cloak of mystery than Silent Sonia. The Italian lady whose wardrobe is so vast, she never appears in the same outfit twice, who harbours manifold secrets within the neat pleats of her pinned up saree, who can ill-afford to let go of her tight self-control, lest the carefully assembled ensemble, falls apart. A woman of such few words, at least in public, the entire nation hangs upon each one she utters, as desperately as the survivors of the Titanic clutched onto lifeboats. Brevity is the soul of her wits.

Back to Jayalalitha. If you have been listening to her on the news bulletins or Rendez Vous with Simi Garewal (STAR Plus), you will know that much more than toppling governments, she likes to talk. The words simply trip off her dainty tongue, like water off the Niagara Falls: in a steady, unstoppable stream of consciousness. Her toffee-tweet voice, her convent learnt English, her gentle delivery, her round suet-pudding face and its unfailingly sweet expression... Remember: what is, is not... Unfortunately, television doesn't get close enough, often enough for us to make the necessary eye contact. Instead, throughout the week, we saw JJ doing what she does all the time: holding court. Whenever she was on television, she treated everyone -- the Prime Minister, the Congress President, the journalists, Simi Garewal -- with queenly hauteur. Challenge Tim Sebastian to Hard Talk (BBC) her into submission.

In comparison to her stately presence, Parliament has been plebian during the confidence debate.(DD1). Almost three years ago, the telecast debate on the 13-day Vajpayee government had electrified a nation. There was the novelty factor, there was a poignancy, knowing Vajpayee was out. But several confidence and no confidence motions later, this debate was lacklustre, distinguished by a stunning lack of eloquence. The speakers were so desultory they knew the real drama was being enacted elsewhere. We, the viewers were watching a hastily and poorly put together deception (mukhauta?): what is, is not, what is not, is.

Remember Chautala. This son of the soil appeared on all TV channels (Thursday), assuring us that the four INLD MPs would vote against the government. He was, specifically, asked if he might not abstain. No question, he replied, smiling pleasantly, we will vote against the BJP (STAR Newshour at 10pm). We all know what happened on Friday morning: the INLD announced it would support the BJP ``unconditionally''.

As you watch TV remember all is maya, all is illusion. Even reality. Television, whether it is in Washington, Bosnia or in Parliament House, is a stage where people strut and fret. Don't ever make the mistake of believing in it.