MILES TO GO, BUT THE ROAD’S GETTING BETTER | |
| The real change in Nitish Kumar’s Bihar lies in the rekindling of hope in the face of resignation and cynicism, writes Sankarshan Thakur | |
The marvellous is the eruption of contradiction within the real. — Louis Aragon The dark and lovely irony is that Nitish Kumar is the child of Lalu Prasad. For thirty years, no less, he drifted under Lalu’s shadow before he began to gnash at it, moulting painfully from mate to reluctant protégé to tormentor before triumph came his way. Lalu had gorged too hard on the fruit of his flawed revolution; all Nitish had to do in the end was to shake the rot off and run away with the root. But it was Lalu’s gift all the same; more than 80 per cent of the vote Nitish lords over today is what Lalu consolidated in the first place. Happily for Bihar, he has given that gift the truth of Louis Aragon’s maxim on change. He has touched the contradictions in Lalu’s seed of empowerment, smothered the politicking strain and given impetus to the governance chromosome. Lalu and his fairly shrunken ranks will, of course, have problems accepting that. Nitish and not politicking, they’d ask, since when? All he is doing in the name of governance is self-aggrandizement — breaking the extremely backward castes and Muslims away, creating new ranks of ‘Mahadalits’ within the Dalits, even nibbling away at the BJP’s urban upper-caste constituency with soft sophistry. It’s a charge Lalu Yadav cannot help making as the chief opposition in Bihar. It’s a charge Nitish should heartily accept — what politician doesn’t build a constituency for himself? In 1995, Nitish’s first open challenge to Lalu rule, in fatal alliance with the CPI(ML), yielded less than 4 per cent of the Bihar vote; today, he has in excess of 35 per cent. Lalu can complain all he wants about that, but Nitish is not obliged to feel guilty. He’s no bleeding-heart NGO out there to labour selflessly for Bihar’s redemption; in his business, he needs to feed on power in order to do justice to his chosen craft. At the moment, he is delivering more with his 35 per cent than Lalu ever did in his 15 years at the helm. Endorsements from the likes of Amartya Sen — and Meghnad Desai, a couple of months ago — are not easy to come by, especially when they are meant for what’s a nationally accepted metaphor for a basket case: Bihar, off the map, irredeemably lost. Bihari, manufactured defective. You must be Bihari to feel the rough rub of it — an identity as allegory to mockery, when they’re being kind. Patna was for long — and remains, in large measure — an obliging showcase to a dire state, rowdy and relentlessly ramshackle. It’s not a nice place to be in. But anyone who’s known Patna over time would tell you how much nicer it has turned lately. It is still quite the shabbiest capital we have, but spare a thought for the depths it is having to claw its way up from. To insider and outsider alike, Patna was forever a place you sought escape from. Patna, cataclysm! To the likes of us — insider-outsiders — it was cataclysm revisited, time and time again. The old grandeur of its colonial quarters over-run by shacks and shanties and their attendant life forms — cows, buffaloes, pigs, mongrels. It’s new polish daily stained by the mucky residue of para-rural urge mating semi-urban chaos. A shimmering SUV marooned in a procession of handcarts and rickshaws. Hungry platoons from ruralia roving about that solitary island of glitter called the Dak Bungalow Chowk in search of work and food, bent on grabbing if they won’t get or be given. Cows mooing at designer apparel on a flea-and-fly-infested mannequin. The aroma of freshly dropped dung wafting into ice-cream parlours. Highrises sans electricity. A woman barely clad, infant suckling at her shrivelled breast, peddling pornography at the red light. A towering cardboard Lalu Prasad with a lantern bathed in the blaze of diesel-powered bulbs. Should you go to Patna today, you’ll probably be assaulted by a similar slideshow of cracked contrariness — perhaps not Lalu Prasad, because he doesn’t stand so tall anymore, and the glow of his lantern has been admonished into dimness, but a lot of the same unpacked grimness. But should you have a practised eye on Patna, you’ll also see much that is changed and changing. Birchand Patel Path — Patna’s power street, which houses headquarters to most political parties — has not merely evolved into a spanking dual carriageway, it has also acquired service-lanes on either side. The Circuit House, long dilapidated and crumbling, wears new sandstone cladding. The MLAs’ hostels have been cleared of their leprous open drains. The Boring Road neighbourhood — pig-ridden Patna posh — actually has garbage vats on streetcorners and streets freshly cobbled into walkways. There are more cobblestones piled up in other, less fortunate parts; work’s been ordered. And after dark, a sodium-vapour glow spews down on most of what used to be dingy darkness. It’s not known what reference-points Amartya Sen and Meghnad Desai had to measure where or how much Bihar has moved in the last few years, but both seem to have a keen sense of progress. Along routes leading out to the heartland in every direction — north and south of the Ganges — there’s a new clamour of construction; dust, concrete, tar, earth-movers and road-rollers. Being on the road in Bihar is still an unnerving thing, but there’s a qualitative change to it — what’s unsettling today isn’t about stagnation and decay, it is about regeneration. And much more than regeneration, it is about the news of its impending arrival. A lot of what has changed in the nearly four years that Nitish Kumar has helmed Bihar is merely cosmetic — smooth strips of road and road lighting, families out late and unafraid to show-off their finery, cleaner kerbs and façades, public utilities such as bus-stations and schools where you’ll see, more and more, schoolchildren and, at long last, teachers too. But to note that, and nothing beyond, is to miss the point of what is changing. What is really changing in Bihar is not the visible or the tactile; the real change is happening invisibly in minds and psychologies, the dusting of corrosive cobwebs — cynicism and resignation. What is really changing is that hope has been rekindled — roads can be built, streets can be lit and broken bridges built, schools can become busy, criminals can be jailed, promises can be delivered, if only slowly, if only patchily. Crime has not been erased from Bihar or its politics — the squeaky-clean Nitish Kumar himself unabashedly harbours the likes of Anant Singh and Munna Shukla — but, equally, the sense is that it is being contained. Power is yet to reach most of the state’s darkness, but there is renewed expectation that it is on its way. Old sub-stations in C-towns are under repair or replacement, new power projects have been assured. They are merely assurances, no doubt, but the difference is that when Nitish Kumar makes an assurance, most tend to believe. With Lalu Prasad, it was most often the opposite. Lalu Prasad’s record in Bihar betrayed little evidence of his inclination to matters of governance. On the contrary, he systematically dismantled governance during his 15 years at the helm, either directly or through proxy. He discouraged ministerial excellence and bureaucratic initiative; he displayed a positive disinterest in governance and a dislike for those who tried to nudge him in that direction. Among the many reasons for his rupture with Nitish Kumar was this as well. Nitish wanted the government to govern and was ready to shoulder the responsibility, while Lalu Yadav extended the Mandal revolution from the pulpit. Lalu Yadav thought Nitish meant to undermine him. In the process, what got readily undermined was the State itself and its many tasks. Corrections were urgently required, and they have only just begun to happen. Nitish Kumar has a long way to go, and he has a keen sense of that distance. The dark and unlovely irony is that Lalu Prasad still does not. Courtesy:The Telegraph |
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Lalu,Nitish and Bihar.
Monday, August 10, 2009
"I am not your sexy friend",
During a debate on the Metro Railways (Amendment) Bill, 2009, Reddy praised Prasad as a "Shaksi dost", an apparent attempt to describe him as a distinguished friend.
The situation turned funny when Samajwadi Party chief Mulayam Singh Yadav told Prasad that Reddy was describing him as a "sexy friend".
This prompted Prasad, known for his quick repartees, to stand up and declare, "I am not your sexy friend", leaving the House in splits.
Though it was not immediately clear what exactly Reddy wanted to convey, most felt that he was trying to describe Prasad as a "shaksiyat", Urdu for distinguished personality.
Lalu is witty.
In the process, what could have been reduced to a dull, insipid discussion on price-rise was transformed into a lively debate. “I fear that when we go back to our constituencies after the session, we’ll be thrashed by the electorate,” Mr Yadav told the House, and urged the government to provide protection to the MPs.
Describing the situation as “grim” and “serious”, the RJD chief, during the course of his 45-minute-long speech, dwelt on factors such as climate change, bad monsoon, speculative trading and lack of anticipation on the part of the government.
Even though the former Union minister asked the parties to rise above board to find a solution to the looming crisis, he could help but take a jibe at the government for its failure to rein in prices. “Ensure the de-hoarding of wheat and sugar. But why prices start shooting up only after the UPA came to power? There should be an investigation into this.”
Mr Yadav took serious exception to the trend of senior ministers staying away from proceedings on crucial issues. “Even today, there are just two ministers present in the House when it is taking up the debate on such a vital subject,” he said pointing towards parliamentary affairs minister Pawan Kumar Bansal and his deputy V Narayanasamy.
“The two ministers think that they run the government. They are like a particular species of birds who, with their feet up, think the entire sky rests on them,” the RJD leader said, sending the MPs into peels of laughter.
He blamed the lack of coordination within the UPA government’s second incarnation (christened UPA-II by him) for aggravating the problem. “There is no coordination in UPA-II. There has been no satisfactory response on any issue from the government so far in this Lok Sabha. The Opposition should be taken into confidence, and an all-party meeting should be convened to discuss the situation,” Mr Yadav told the House.
The crisis, the RJD chief predicted, was only going to worsen in the coming days. “The threat of global warming is serious. It has adversely affected agriculture in Punjab, UP and Bihar. The rabi crop will be badly hit. Paddy is finished. Not even 15-20% of the crop has been sown. The agriculture minister had said that he was watching the situation. There have been no rains. Even after hathiya-nakshatra, there is little likelihood of the situation improving,” he told the House.
Lalu demands more for Bihar from Center.
An all-party delegation of MPs from Bihar on Friday called on Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and demanded a special package for the uplift of the State and additional funds for rehabilitation of people affected by last year’s Kosi floods.
The 34-member team comprising leaders from the Rashtriya Janata Dal, the Janata Dal (United) and the Bharatiya Janata Party was jointly led by Lalu Prasad, Sharad Yadav, Shahnawaz Hussain, Rajiv Ranjan Singh, N.K. Singh and Shivanand Tiwari.
It expressed its displeasure at the Cabinet clearing a “meagre” Rs. 117 crore for the flood victims.
‘Adding insult to injury’The delegation told Dr. Singh that allocating such a “pittance” amounted to “adding insult to injury” to those who had lost almost everything in the disaster, which had been declared a national calamity.
The MPs demanded that the Centre make an immediate provision of Rs. 14,000 crore as a rehabilitation package, which had not been announced despite several reminders, Mr. Tiwari said.
Plea for special packageMr. Prasad made a plea for a special package to eradicatebackwardness and to bring Bihar on a par with other States.
According to Mr. Tiwari, the Prime Minister gave the team a patient hearing and acknowledged that the country’s development was not possible without exploiting the potential of Bihar and its inclusive growth.
Lalu gets front seat.
Rahul perhaps does not need to make a statement while his style is more suited to the back of the House where he often confers with the young set and other MPs. After his poll mauling, Lalu will be relieved he has retained his perch while former prime minister H D Deve Gowda will find it harder to grab forty winks unnoticed as he is in the front row as well. The seat allocation in 15th Lok Sabha, which was subject to considerable speculation, has thrown up a few odd seating mates with SP chief Mulayam Singh Yadav sharing space with arch rival BSP’s Dara Singh Chauhan. JD(U)’s Sharad Yadav gets a seat in front but next to CPM’s Basudeb Acharia.
The seating arrangement was operational when the House passed the constitutional amendment on extension of reservation for SC/STs in Parliament and assemblies. In Lalu’s case, Congress has decided to be generous despite the bitter falling during the polls which saw him routed in Bihar. Moving back would have dented his already battered political standing but Congress has reckoned it does not want to rub it in.
While it is possible that Congress chief Sonia Gandhi’s supposed soft corner for Lalu might have also helped him, the RJD boss will share the bench with Deve Gowda. As per division numbers, DMK leader T R Baalu and Congress deputy leader in Lok Sabha Sis Ram Ola, who failed to make it to the Cabinet, also share a front row bench.
Besides PM Manmohan Singh, the top five of the ruling alliance’s pecking order are finance minister Pranab Mukherjee, Sonia, agriculture minister Sharad Pawar, home minister P Chidambaram and Trinamool chief Mamata Banerjee in that order.
Lalu cornered..
ON A day when the Congress leadership handed him a front seat in the Lok Sabha from the UPA quota, RJD leader Lalu Prasad Yadav joined hands with the Opposition to corner the government over the India-Pakistan joint statement and then stage a walkout.
In perfect coordination with Samajwadi Party leader Mulayam Singh Yadav, Lalu stood up just as the BJP, JD(U), Shiv Sena, Akali and SP members did, forcing Speaker Meira Kumar to adjourn the House.
Later, he joined the Opposition chorus demanding a response from the government on the release of Mumbai terror attack mastermind in Pakistan and the latest remarks of Foreign Minister S M Krishna. With the government offering no reply, Lalu walked out with Mulayam and his partymen.
After the House had been adjourned, Lalu stayed on in the hall and stood with BJP deputy leader Sushma Swaraj, Mulayam, JD(U) president Sharad Yadav and Shiv Sena leader Anant Geete finalising their next strategy. Leaders of all parties would speak on the issue, it was decided, to facilitate a resumption of proceedings. “Kyon Lalubhai?” Swaraj could be overheard saying, with Lalu nodding in agreement.


