Nitish Kumar and his incredible calisthenics, a face-off fiesta between Ghālib and Shakespeare

Nitish Kumar and his incredible calisthenics

a face-off fiesta between Ghālib and Shakespeare

During Nitish Kumar's tenure as the Minister of Railways in early 2000s, I had the privilege of serving as the Master of Ceremonies in numerous official and semi-official events where he graced us as the chief guest. I was a mere middle-level railway executive and I distinctly recall how he not only remembered my name but also consistently made an effort to personally greet me with a warm smile. His thoughtful gestures left me genuinely gratified and I held him in high esteem as a person of admirable character, even though I may have differed in my assessment of his policies for the Indian Railways, which I did not perceive as progressive enough.

 

However, regrettably, I find myself with no other option but to view him as the epitome of political inconsistency, the ultimate Aaya Ram Gaya Ram (literally Ram has come, Ram has gone) player; this expression in politics of India means the frequent floor-crossing, turncoating, switching parties and political horse trading in the legislature by the elected politicians and political parties.

 

In the latest episode of the Nitish Kumar flip-flop extravaganza, our favourite political acrobat has once again taken a graceful plunge. After days of suspense that had us on the edge of our seats (or at least on the edge of our political apathy), Nitish Kumar has decided to add one more resignation followed by fresh swearing-in to his repertoire of political escapades. In a move that surprised absolutely no one (except maybe Nitish himself, who likely had to check his own Wikipedia page to remember which party he's currently with), Kumar met with Bihar Governor on 28^th January. In a dramatic exchange, he handed over his resignation as if it were a hot potato, and the Governor, displaying the enthusiasm of someone who just umpired a round of musical chairs, asked Nitish to stick around as the caretaker Chief Minister.

 

Ladies and gentlemen readers, fasten your seatbelts and grab your popcorn for the next episode of 'As the Political Pendulum Swings,' starring Nitish Kumar in the lead role of the chieftain, his ninth term in less than 2 decades; we're about to witness the grand premiere of the show. Nitish Kumar in his ninth term as Chief Minister in less time than it takes to find matching socks in the morning. Move over, soap operas; we've got politics to provide us with the real drama! In an alternate universe, Shakespeare and Ghalib, perhaps bored with the serene affairs of their own eras, are now celestial spectators of Nitish's political theatrics. Picture the cosmic prism tuned into Bihar's political landscape, with Shakespeare and Ghalib engaged in a tongue-in-cheek tête-à-tête. Their narratives, as esoteric as an avant-garde poetry slam, blend seamlessly as they quote from each other's works to inject a dose of literary flair into the political chaos. As I stumbled upon this celestial chit-chat, I felt like an unwitting audience member eavesdropping on a conversation between literary giants; now, I reproduce their tete-a-tete verbatim, capturing the essence of their cosmic commentary:

 

Shakespeare: Oh, my dear chappie Gaulib, much beyond my Hamlet, "To resign or not to resign, was that the question” for this extraordinary human chameleon, your Nettish Koomaar, or what? His pendulum swings with a rhythm a dignified Englishman like me cannot comprehend. Alliances come and go but unlike the the King in Henry IV, Part 2, “Unchanged lies the head that wears the crown.” Brutus mulled over the rise of power of Julius Caesar but here this Koomaar guy redefines and perfects it to “Th’ abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.” Sorry state of affairs in the politics of your country, Forsooth!

 

Ghālib: Don’t try to be this pretentious dandy angrez (Englishman), are you an ignoramus when it comes to realpolitik? The fellow is simply a thinker, forever in quest for a meaningful path to tread. I have written quite pointedly about such indecisive underlings, who are forever looking for fresh guidance and leadership and today it is all about the supreme leader, Moody:

 

Chaltā huuñ thoḌī duur har ik tez-rau ke saath

pahchāntā  nahīñ  huuñ  abhī  rāhbar  ko maiñ

(tez-rau: fast speed, rāhbar: guide, leader. Short distances I walk with everyone who moves rapidly, I know not yet who the guide is.)

 

Shakespeare: Oh you simpleton dervish, nonsense, do not look for virtue in necessity! As I said, he artfully reinterpreted the Hamlet soliloquy “... Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And, by opposing, end them?...”. The Peppoo not making him the convenor of Indi alliance pierced his heart like an arrow and so he decided to jettison his bag of misfortune and jump to another boat in his sea of troubles, the unstoppable Endi ship captained by the redoubtable Moody. In any case, it is good drama and quoting you with a twist:

Ham ko ma.alūm hai siyaasat kī haqīqat lekin

dil ke ḳhush rakhne ko Nettish hī achchhā hai

(siyaasat: politics, ma.alūm: aware, Jannat: heaven, paradise, haqiqat: reality, ḳhayāl: thought. We are well aware of the truth about politics but this Nettish is good to keep our hearts entertained.)

 

In any case, like Duke Senior said in my play As you Like it, “…Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head...”, this wily guy can grow medicinal jewels in his forehead like the proverbial poisonous toad and knows when to spray it on ever-credulous dingbats like the Peppoo.

 

Ghālib: Billee baarad saahab (Billy the Bard sir), it is about being adroit with astuteness and the situation is captured by me better here::

 

Ahl-e-bīnash ko hai tūfān-e-havādis maktab

lutma-e-mauj kam-az saili-e-ustād nahīñ

(Ahl-e-bīnash:  people with astute vision, tūfān-e-havādis: typhoon of tragedies, maktab: academy, a circle of intellectual thought leaders, lutma-e-mauj:  injury from a strong wave, kam-az saili-e-ustād: slap of a teacher. Wise people with vision take good counsel from a storm of misfortune, they consider the injurious whack from waves to be not less than the slaps of a master.)

 

Do refrain from this nitpicking on everything I say:

Har ek baat pe kahte ho tum ki ye kyā hai

tumhīñ kaho ki ye andāz-e-guftugū kyā hai

(andāz-e-guftugū: style of conversation. On every matter you insist on telling me what it is, Pray, tell me what is this style of conversation?)

 

Shakespeare: OK, fine, Mirza Gilboy, suit yourself. Look at the Moody, whose doctrine of political manoeuvres has been covered by your poet Faraz much better than you could ever conjure and write:

 

Ranjish hī sahī dil hī dukhāne ke liye aa

aa phir se mujhe chhoḌ ke jaane ke liye aa

(Ranjish: Unpleasant, strained relationship. If there are bad vibes, so be it but do show up even if it is to give more pain to my heart, do roll up even if you would desert me again.).

 

So strange that in Beehaar (Bihar), only the underling teams change places, the chief minister does not. My heart weeps for its unfortunate climes as I recall the great lines spoken by a citizen from my play Richard III, “Woe to the land that’s governed by a Nettish, I mean, child”.

 

Ghālib: Baarad-e-Aiwān (bard of Avon), janaab-e-aali marduud-e-azam (respected senior great rejected dejected man), do you forget that the other citizen also says, “In him there is a hope of government, Which, in his nonage, council under him, And, in his full and ripened years, himself, No doubt shall then, and till then, govern well.” The man is flitting from one band to another, seeking the ultimate truth, and will soon come of age to govern on his own without crutches. Did your Jaques not say in As You Like It that, “All the world’s a stage...And one man in his time plays many parts, His acts being seven ages.” whereas our protagonist here plays the roles, not of merely seven ages but of nine times, with such finesse. What a thespian in political attire!

 

Shakespeare: Hark, my desi (Indian) brother, this Nettish doth tread a treacherous path. He will govern well, my left foot! Reminds me of young Hamlet, who, upon spying a gravedigger merrily singing whilst fashioning a grave and unveiling a skull, did ponder,, “It might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'erreaches, one that would circumvent God, might it not?” A character in the very likeness of Nettish, I dare say, rightly given the alias Peltoo Ram (literally Ram who springs back and forth).

 

Ghālib: ShaKHs-e-Peer mere bhālā hilao dost (Shakespeare, old man my shake a  spear friend), go on quibbling but, just as in the case of your wile villain Brutus in Julius Caesar, your narratives “pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not”. Like Polonius telling Laertes in your Hamlate (Hamlet), “...This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man...” and that is what our hero is doing being totally truthful to his own self, with complete consistency. In fact, I wrote for his character:

Mehrbāñ ho ke bulā lo mujhe chāho jis vaqt

maiñ gayā vaqt nahīñ huuñ ki phir aa bhī na sakūñ

(Mehrbāñ: kind, considerate. Be kind to call me again, I am not time which is past that I cannot come back.)

 

As the cosmic banter continued, I could not help but marvel at the way even the heavens found amusement in the theatrics of this political charlatan and shimmered away quietly. So dear readers, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

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