Lok Sabha Elections 2024: A Shakespearean breakdown

 

Behold, the surprises the Indian elections bring! A festival grand and gay with ‘all the world’s a stage’ yet also a ‘comedy of errors’ in the most curious way. Where else would you find that the one who hath won now doth mourn, while the one who hath lost doth rejoice, not a bit forlorn? Indeed, this festival is a merry fest, where winners weep and losers jest!

 

The bard woke up to this spectacle and presents The final Act, the final Scene: The Jocose Tale of the Indian Elections

 

Enter Jester NINDA, dejected and glum, in the bustling bazaar of Indian Democracy.

 

Jester NINDA:

Friends, Indians, countrymen, lend me thine ear!

Forsooth, I boasted, chest puffed with loud cheer,

That four hundred plus would be ours to hold,

But Alas! Fortune's favours han left us cold.

 

My creator, Shakespeare had Richard say in the eponymous play Richard III at the top, “Now is the winter of our discontent Made glorious summer…”. My left foot, you bluffing minstrel! Glorious summer indeed! Even as the sun scorches our country with terrible rage, so does my fortune incinerate me with this ignoble debacle.

 

Enter Clown INDA, exultant and joyful, as Jester NINDA continues.

'Tis true, we garnered two hundred ninety two,

And the crown still rests upon our head, 'tis true.

A victory? Aye, in name, it feels nigh a defeat,

For our boasts were but bubbles, burst in heat.

 

Richard had to contend with two brothers, King Edward and Duke of Clarence, who separated him from the throne but he won the crown through murder. And me? How will I tackle this uncouth crowd of Nettish, Nay Do, Shindig and Schirag on one hand and Raool, Ma’am Ta, Power, Achilles, Deja Vi, Udaho, Stanley and so many more on the other.

 

Aside: Shall I confer with Emit Shaw?

 

Clown INDA:

Like Gertrude said in Hamlet, “The lady protests too much, methinks”, so do you.

 

Hark! Methinks thou dost protest too much, sir.

For we, the alliance of INDA, dreamt of a spur.

"We shall topple NINDA," we cried with such zest,

And see! Thou hast no majority, 'tis as we did jest.

I know you have never read much, not even the works of our creator, but we realized that, unlike Celia in As You Like It, “Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally” or Pisanio from Cymbeline, “…Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.”, fortune surely favours the brave. Brazenly brave we were and we do not decry it even today:

 

Fortune, the capricious dame, hath left us in a bind,

With two hundred thirty-four, victory we do not find.

Defeat's bitter taste, yet sweetened by our foresight,

For though we lost, our predictions took good flight.

 

Jester NINDA:

It is true I do not read our creator much, or for that matter anything, but I can read the mind of the public and prepare you that, like Falstaff in Henry VI, “The better part of valor is discretion”.

What good is this valour thou dost flaunt,

Thy foresight brought you only lament,

For though thy predictions took flight,

Our triumph diminished, but well meant.

 

Your predictions indeed! Like Banquo in Macbeth, I ask you,“…If you can look into the seeds of time And say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak, then, to me, who neither beg nor fear Your favors nor your hate”. My friend the formidable Emit Shaw will soon emerge and NINDA will grow more.

 

A pox upon predictions! What good are they?

When the laurels of victory are worn this day.

Our triumph is diminished, but triumph it remains,

Whilst thy foresight brings just false refrains.

 

Clown INDA:

Even the great King Henry IV, in part II of the eponymous play, soliloquizes about the difficulties of being king and you are, in spite of all the pretentions of your meditation in solitude but with cameras from all angles, are a lesser mortal, not an avatar of God and better realize pronto, just as Edmund in King Lear, as to how the wheel has turned.

 

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown”,

Thy victory is hollow, thy boast turned to jest,

“The wheel is come full circle,” my friend,

In this glorious defeat, our spirit finds rest.

 

The wise Leonato in Much Ado Abot Nothing has summed up your position when he says, “A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers…”, whereas yours is less than half.

 

True, thou may get crowned, yet the people are wise,

They see through thy numbers, and thy hollow prize.

Our loss is but a stepping stone, a jest in the making,

For in this seeming defeat, our spirit's not breaking.

Next time, beware! Fortune's fickle wheel doth spin,

And mayhap, in the next turn, 'tis we who shall win.

 

You seem to be possessed by drama. “The play’s the thing…” and as Hamlet used it as an instrument to explore the conscience of Claudius, making him aware that he knows who actually killed his father, we are only warning you about the days ahead.

 

Aye, 'tis true, and in jest we find our might,
For what is politics but a play dance of light?
Today thou hast the stage, but hark my hoity-toity friend,
The play's the thing, and it hath yet not reached its end.

 

Jester NINDA:

 

Like Brutus in Julius Caesar, “…There is no terror in your threats, For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not…”

 

Thy words are wind, though clever and sly,
For today, the mantle of power rests upon I.
A victory in defeat, a paradox most queer,
But 'tis the way of thy politics, INDA dear.

 

Taking a leaf out of that sagacious man, Cassius, speaking to the selfsame treacherous Brutus in Julius Caesar, remember, “…Men like me are masters of their fates, The fault, dear INDA, is not in your stars, But in yourselves, that you are underlings...”

 

Clown INDA:

 

Much Ado About Nothing. You are like the Prince of Morocco who opened the golden casket in The Merchant of Venice, so heed:

 

“All that glisters is not gold”, sir,
We claimed thy majority would fall,
It did and with two hundred thirty-four,
A loss that feels like victory, after all.

 

Your so-called allies are like that one friend who never chips in for pizza; they're here just to freeload. Honestly, I give you less time than a smartphone battery on 1%. And when you finally run out of juice, it will be our time to shine! 

 

How we caught the king’s boast,
In “comedy of errors” we laugh the most.
For the one who won, mourns his hollow feat,
While the one who lost, finds joy in defeat.

 

Like Helena in All's Well that Ends Well, “Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we do not ascribe to heaven: the fated sky”, we advise you to be wary that your guarantees have expired, your fortune will not last.

 

Modifying what King Richard shouts in Richard III, in the battlefield, halfway valiant, refusing to forsake the fray although his horse has bit the dust, go figure, “Guarantees, my guarantees! My kingdom for my guarantees!”.

Jester NINDA:

Unlike Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I need no advice a la Lysander, I know that “The course of true love never did run smooth” but in this festival of votes, although fortunes intertwine, we stole the show more than you.  “All’s well that ends well” and even if this victory brings naught but unrest, the mantle of power is mine. “Brevity is the soul of wit” and so I end, with a crown that weighs heavy, but I have Amrit Kaal to reach.

 

I am the NINDA leader, I can teach King Edward IV of Henry VI a trick or two such that, “What fates impose, that must men need abide? It boots well to resist both wind and tide.” Fare thee well, dear INDA, till 2029 when we meet again, if you indeed survive till then.

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