“Food! For Thought”

By

J.L. Gupta

 

 

Cordial company.  Appetising aperitifs. Vintage wine. Succulent snacks. And finally, a splendid spread produced by the cooks from Kolkata. All combined to make it a perfect evening.

 

In between, as we sat and talked, the charming lady asked a prominent political party leader - “We are a poor people. Why do the politicians need crores of rupees? The appetite appears to be insatiable.”

 

The response was candid. “Madam! You have not contested an election. You have no idea of the costs. The amount varies. Notwithstanding the solemn declaration that every MP makes, in north east, the election to a parliamentary seat costs about a crore. In north west, it is many times more. In the south, it is the highest.”

 

“Oh! Really?”   

 

“Yes! And then there are the recurring expenses. Anyone who falls sick in my constituency travels to the capital. Reaches with a number of family members. They walk into the house as a matter of right. Command me to get the patient admitted to a good hospital. Thereafter, whether the patient remains in the hospital for a week or more, looking after the guests is my responsibility. Till the patient gets well. Finally, I have to get them the ticket to travel back home and have them dropped at the station.”

 

“My God! But how does an election cost crores?”

 

The response was revealing. “As soon as it becomes known that the elections are in the offing, the subtle hints start. From different quarters. The ‘channels’ talk about the surveys to assess the mood of the masses. The image building. The office bearers get calls. Often, the talk is blunt.

 

Then, there are the self appointed ‘workers’ and ‘leaders.’ Each with a price tag. With ‘urgent’ in capital letters writ large on the face. To mobilise the ‘masses’. In the urban and rural areas. In colonies (a euphemism for slums). Factories. Offices. Trade Unions. The list is endless. And if you delay or dither, the man is gone. In just a few hours, he can be seen in the office of the opponent’s party.... And that is not all.”

On the way back, I said, “Appalling.” My wife recalled the words of the maid. When asked – “For whom did you vote?” Her response without a hint of hesitation was – “Mataji! Jiska bada note, usko mera vote.” (I vote for the one who gives me the highest price.)

 

The host had done everything to make it a perfect evening! Indeed it was. In addition, we had come back with a lot of food for thought.