Deepawali @ Government

On the eve of Deepawali, the congress HQ was full of government officials and some insignificant, negligible party-workers intruded the spaces left untenanted still. The major lot of them preferred to stay away from main stream of power-tails and cocktails but as always is the case the journey to pinnacle starts from the basement, not lofty echelons.

Keeping the general principles of success in mind, a couple of aspiring workers strayed from their conduit on the footsteps of those who were seemingly close to the ‘high command’. There stands the finance minister; isn’t he the secretary to the defense minister; look, look – here comes ‘Yuvraaj’ himself, they whispered wandering lone in the crowd, clutching each other’s hand like toddlers in an old-age home alien like, afraid of losing themselves.

“Abbe oye, where the heck are you going? Come here”, a voice rang obstructing their path with a force invisible. He was a major player, frequently seen tagging behind the CM of Delhi, almost one of them. “Don’t go there, not yet! Don’t you see they are busy, what good will you do there?” He carted his junior contender by heels; none rises ahead of me – the general yet unspoken law of progress in India.

It seemed that he had made a new party for himself, almost a fan following. Some 10 people gathered around him, all glaring at the new comers with fierce, burning hatred in eyes asking if they were better than others to try and barge into the senior circle before them. One of them coughed and the ‘circle-centered talks’ resumed.

“Bhaiyaji, aajkal aap dikhte nahin? Kahan busy ho? Kahin bhauji to nahin dhoond li humaare liye?” one of the shorter guys played, followed by laughter nearly mechanical.

“Arre nahin re, aajkal zara busy hain hum. CM madam ne Commonwealth Games ka saara zimma humein hi de diya hai na, issiliye.”

“And where were you two going? The way to higher orders goes through bhaiyaji’s feet, samjhe!” The latest in the group were suddenly attacked –again. A smile broke on the questioner’s face, so wide as if he had been asked to fill in for PM himself, his question had stepped him higher in party classes.

“Haan, haan, ask if you have any doubts. Bhaiyaji will clear them all” another tagged along on the express to success in party cadres. The youngsters with their minds numb went askew as to what would be the appropriate question. “Bhaiyaji, what is the best way to celebrate deepawali?” one of them asked, surprised at his own question.

Everyone laughed, veiling their disarmed self by the question mark. Only the ‘senior’ seemed serious (although artificially) which made everyone else quite.

“This is a good question.”

So says everyone who doesn’t know the answer. But somehow, he managed to say to it, more than that.

“The best way to celebrate deepawali”, he said, “is to make sure that our Ram aka Manmohan Singhji is worshipped everywhere along with Sita Maiyya roopi Soniaji and Lakshmanji roopi Chidambaram Saab; that we become as brave as Hanumanji (Pranab da) and continue to defeat the BJP’s Ravan, along with Left’s Kumbhkarn and Shiv Sena’s Meghnaad. The deepawali would be better if we manage to kills Mayawati roopi Shurpanakha. Also we have a duty to ensure smooth succession of our prince Rahul to throne just like Luv-Kush. Only then would Ram-rajya (congress-rule) would be established perfectly throughout the country (in all the states as well) and Deepawali will get a true meaning.”

Everyone clapped - the juniors, the not-so juniors and the latecomers while I was left thinking if I had been celebrating the true spirit of Deepawali all these 20 years.