Yesterday wasn’t history making, perhaps. But it was indeed hopeful. A change is not what the most optimistic of us may have expected, but it is what we were blessed with at least notions, iotas, and specks of. Or even if not a change, then at least a promise of a better tomorrow. And that’s all this country needed, really.
The mood of the nation was divided into extremes these past few months, nay, years. It was mostly either violent jubilation, table-thumping protestation, acute desolation, confident anger, or defeated withdrawal.
Modi 1.0 was surprising. To many, pleasantly so. Modi 2.0 was horrifying. The idea of Modi 3.0—to those of us who were long done with this thoughtless, hate-mongering, vilifying regime—was simply unacceptable. Yet, that was the most permeable reality we could imagine sinking in right in front of us. Years of hate speeches, government inaction, turning a blind eye to the most heart-rending ground realities, and divisive politics targeting particular communities, castes, and classes of the society had led to simmering outrage, especially among sections of the youth, women, and minorities. The veritable apathy was killing us.
The day I voted after flying down to my hometown, where I’m registered to vote, I put up an Instagram story of my inked finger with the caption “here’s to hope against hope.” I said it more as a yearning than an expectation, even if a part of me held on to that thread of positive affirmation I have been pulling at out of love for my country.
Come June 4, result day, and I declared to my partner that I will largely be off the internet because I can’t stand to be an active witness to what I pretty much know will happen by the end of the day. Such little was my faith in my people in that anguished moment that the addendum in my head said “more like by mid-afternoon.”
Out of a force of habit, I opened social media around mid-noon and saw the polling figures and went “wait a minute!” The BJP-led NDA alliance, and even BJP itself, had much lower numbers than any exit poll had predicted, and the I.N.D.I.A. alliance had much higher numbers than anyone would have expected of them. Granted, counting was still underway and it would take a while for the final tally to come in, but boy was I invested. 400 paar? Not so much.
By the end of the day, counting for a few seats was still underway but it was obvious that BJP would not have a clear majority to form a government by itself and would have to rely on the support of its allies, which is not exactly a lead-pipe cinch.
Now would be a good time to share something about myself. Curious choice? Not when I tell you I come from Uttar Pradesh, and never have I been prouder to say that. BJP was expected to capture way higher numbers than it did in its dominant run in the state last elections. But, lo and behold, it barely managed to do half. Steered by Akhilesh Yadav-led Samajwadi Party’s unexpectedly hit performance, the I.N.D.I.A. alliance emerged as the clear winner in the state. The cherry on top, the icing on the cake, the home run, the opposition’s crowning glory (I won’t even apologise for the excessive use of idioms here) was Ayodhya, BJP’s calling card this election season. The party suffered a humiliating defeat in the Ayodhya constituency, as the Faizabad seat, of which Ayodhya is a part, was clinched by Samajwadi Party by a clean margin of 50k+ votes.
Faith cannot be amenable to devious politics and manipulative assertions. Religion is often politicised and played up for personal gains, but faith runs deeper and beyond that. The Prime Minister of a democracy captured walking in a long shot on his way to the sanctum sanctorum of a supposedly sacred Hindu temple being played all day on national television? Excuse me. I say no, thank you. And so do the people of Ayodhya.
Though hope continues to run against hope, the odds are stacked better. And even if the unwanted happens, we can get a tad bit more peace when we sleep in knowing that the tyrants will not traverse a straight road to their carefully laid out plans and that their path will be littered with questions, criticisms, and doubts, all of which they will be constantly answerable for. You did well, India.
And now that my wishful thinking is emboldened by a wave of buoyant confidence, let me join millions in hoping for the ever colourful arena of Indian politics to give us the fresh splash we are most praying for. Let the fascists eat dust. I am now going to completely embrace my lifelong love for Shah Rukh Khan, and all I have to say to Nitish Kumar and Chandrababu Naidu is “palat!”