Satire

Reality Bites: Once there lived a mercenary who ‘conjured up’ kings & queens

I hope they write a comic book called ‘Bal Prashant’ filled with charming little stories of a boy who just could not tell right from wrong. Of course, none of the stories will have a moral at the end

The Dear Leader has serious competition. No, not from West Bengal CM Mamata Banerjee, who is projecting herself as India’s next PM, but their joint strategist Prashant Kishor. Yes, the heroine finally fell for the charms of the Dear Leader who cat-called her, and they are singing a duet (Aati Kya Cabinet La La) and dancing. Not around Bollywood song-sequence trees, but around Adani and Ambani money plants.

Remember Samyukt Kisan Morcha farm leaders who held rallies in West Bengal before the assembly elections and said they were there to help Bengal to defeat the “anti-people, pro-corporate BJP”? What must they be thinking of Mamata Didi now that she has said that the very same businessmen they had burnt effigies of are as important as farmers? I’m also wondering whether the Sundarbans will be sold too.

But back to Kishor who thinks he’s God, and it is his “divine right as an individual” to decide who will become India’s next prime minister. In a recent tweet, he betrayed his rather modest view of himself and reminded me of the inflated pigs that go up towards the end of most Pink Floyd concerts to symbolise despotic, ruthless people with inflated egos.

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We the people, in Kishor’s eyes, are the mindless sheep these pigs try to control. We must not say “Baaaaa” to the people he chooses for us, because it hurts his sentiments and like any good member/supporter of the Sangh Parivar, when his sentiments get hurt, he lashes out.

Currently, he’s lashing out at the Congress party because it politely turned down his offer to work for them. His brief from the Dear Leader probably was “Ghar mein ghus ke maro” and he failed to deliver, tut. Never ever forget that the Sangh Parivar’s dream is to destroy the Congress party, and every member of Jawaharlal Nehru’s family.

I have often wondered why Kishor adores the Dear Leader so much. He helped him in a behind-the-scenes manner in the 2012 Gujarat assembly elections, and later with fanfare in the 2014 general elections. After those holograms, the real smoke and mirrors games began.

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We were fed rumours that Kishor wanted a place in the BJP, but Amit Shah turned him down. Considering that the BJP took anyone in its party including retired uncles like Jaishankar and Hardeep Singh Puri, why on earth would they say “get lost” to a young man who was willing and able to help them win elections?

It’s amazing how quickly Indians (including myself) forget important things. Some people on Twitter recently reminded us that in early 2020, Bihar CM Nitish Kumar told the media that the Dear Leader’s henchman, Shah, had asked him to induct Kishor into his party, the JD (U). I wouldn’t be remotely astonished if Shah had ordered Mamata Didi to do the same.

I have often sent desperate tweets to journalists asking if Kishor spent quality time at shakhas in his childhood, but no one responded. The media treats him the way they treated Anna Hazare and his ‘India against Corruption’ movement: Ask no questions, just prostrate yourself before the man, wash his feet with milk, and stick a Gandhi cap on his head. Perhaps because they secretly knew that ‘India against Corruption’ was the code name for ‘India against the Congress’?

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I urge journalists again to ask Kishor questions that really matter, like the critical shakha one I asked above, and if the creation of a bigoted Hindu Rashtra is his end game. We are told in a rather sketchy manner that before he embarked on his big fat huge Dear Leader project, he worked in the UN as a health official, and oddly enough, also played the role of election strategist in African nations.

Considering the hatred and lies that were spread in Kishor’s 2014 campaign in India, I wonder if he did a Radio Rwanda there too.

I do hope journalists heed my call, and at the very least write a comic book called ‘Bal Prashant’ filled with charming little stories of a boy who absolutely could not tell right from wrong.

None of these stories will have a moral at the end of them of course, because mercenaries have no morals to speak of. Like it or not, this gun’s for hire, and we’re just dancing in the dark.

(Any resemblance to real people or events is a coincidence)

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