The Last Refuge (May, 2004)

If Hobbes had visited any assembly on a typical day during an average question hour, he would have surely gloated over the potency of his abstract idea. For the State of Nature would never be as diligently brought to life minus his predicted bloodshed, as by the politicians who generally abide by Hobbes’ assumptions about men. (After adding 'generally' before every ‘they’, read on.) They shun death as can be seen from the trail of black men and white cars they leave behind wherever they go. To quote a favorite bard of mine, they almost reek of this policed smell. They tend to be partial especially if it is the matter of a partner in crime or a prodigal son-in-law. Sure they are local in their affections and limited in benevolence…again borrowing from my favorite bard, mostly from military helicopters. Most definitely they are sensitive to slights to be confirmed from maimed citizens or honest officials transferred to the other side of beyond. The only slight point of difference is that Hobbes assumed that they were more or less equal in power and hence vulnerability. Which again can be assumed true for within specific bands of hierarchy. Thus, Hobbes would surely have recommended the submission to a common authority to avoid State of War, an allegory of the English Civil War which ravaged Hobbes' life. Obviously he didn’t live to see Idi Aamin…he might have revisited his stance.

And when politics usurps sensex, cricket and extremely good looking commodities as the force behind the breakfast squabble or the office 'adda', I cannot help but question my subdued political bunsen flame. Politics in college was simple; it was protecting the college from Martians of the Red Planet. It was a bi-planetary milky way with clear distinctions and aims. But when I got starship wrecked in a galaxy which had more colours than a confused kaleidoscope, things got dizzy. Elephants, tube wells vied with hands and flowers, and with constant hammering leading to stars in the day…it was a go as you like. I could match thread for thread with none, and most thread with most thread with very few. And suddenly in the election ambience find myself woefully behind the exit soothsayings, trying to match faces with deeds, colours with promises.

However certain classic duels do come to the fore, for it is a Battle Royale. The Andhra results where the CM got routed because he spent too much time on laptops than on cotton seeds, or maybe thought Telengana was a dated joke, brings to me the classic duel between growth and development. Yes, my professors might shriek and say that there no conflict between, it is a matter of sets and subsets. But that is only if one takes a holistic view of development…free power for farmers is probably an unholistic trait, given the rampaging Gini co-efficient of inequality amongst farmers in India. Or maybe the Italy versus Aryanland duels which uses carbon dating to trace the foreign descendants of an Indian…However, it does bring about some change in the monotony of life’s flow. For example, an elderly gentlemen in my bus back home, who is usually effusive in GDs , has bloomed like a NDTV executive, drawing cross references from 70’s electoral processes, depiction of politicians by Subhash Ghai and the importance of India Shining in forex reserves to make a variety of points. As younger blood joins in, the tete-a-tete becomes even more interesting with forthright questions sometimes met with a straight bat, sometimes with a whiff of nostalgia and dollops of euphemism. As I grapple with the curriculum vita of the candidates and the eternal paradox of extreme Left and Right coinciding like a vicious circle, Lord Krishna, the earliest politician, probably thinks to himself….If you can’t beat them, my child, join them….