Long ago, I was going through some back pain when I met one of Pune’s notable restaurateurs at the airport lounge in Pune, and got talking, waiting for our flight to Dubai. He noticed I was in some discomfort and enquired, when I told him about my back pain. He started to talk of acupressure and how he is a Master at it and how he is also a master of Shiatsu massage and Su Jok as well as Reiki and aura therapy, and so on and so forth. Now, normally, I let people telling me about their particular woo talk, letting them run out of steam with a non-commital ‘hnrghr‘ sound, which balances finely between ‘hmm’ and ‘huh?’ So, I filtered him out and went back to whatever it was I was thinking about when I sensed he said something vaguely actionable to the effect of helping me and that if only I’d be kind enough to take off my left shoe, or something, when the PA went ‘ding-dong‘ and announced the boarding of our flight and we rushed to the departure gate (or what used to pass as one in those days at the Pune Airport). I heaved a sigh of relief as I thought to myself, ‘Saved by the bell. Literally.’
Alas, it was not to be. He found his way to the seat next to mine and continued as if he wasn’t interrupted with the boarding and repeated his request/command that I take my left shoe off, fold my leg over my right leg, and let him at it. Now, there are lines I draw when it comes to taking my shoes off (by the way, this is absolutely true to a point that if someone insists, either verbally or through signage that I must take my shoes off to enter their office, I walk away), especially when someone wants to manhandle my soles, as was his intention. But maybe it was a momentary lapse of reason or I got carried away since I did indeed do his bidding and before I knew it, his long, slender fingers were groping the sole of my left foot as I wondered if the Captain’s instructions of ‘sit back, enjoy yourselves, and have a great flight’ could be any more insincere and was it part of their checklist (no, it isn’t, just in case you thought I didn’t ask my dad that, and got a straight answer), and if it wasn’t, why did all the pilots from all over the world say the exact same things.
Anyway, back to the point where you were visualising me sitting on the window seat, wearing a suit, with my left shoe (and sock) off, staring at a stranger mauling my foot. Suddenly, he found a point on my pinky toe and started applying pressure. And he increased it, and increased it, until I was internally screaming with agony. It BURNT, and I was sure I’d pass out had he continued to do so. I thought what the signal to tap out could be in this first-of-a-kind situation (for me, but I am somehow not so sure about him). Did acupressure or Su Jok or whatever have safe words? I could hardly think straight when he whispered into my ears: ‘How’s the lower back pain?’
I could only grunt, ‘Better‘ (the only answer I thought would satisfy his urge to be of assistance) and he let go. He looked at me, triumphant with a look that said, ‘What did I tell you?‘ (or maybe he actually said that; I was too busy trying not to pass out) and smiled one of those trademark ‘Sadguru’ smiles, where the person being smiled at knows he is about to receive some patronising and condescending ‘advice’, or mocked via a deliberate misconstruing of some question or statement one has asked or made. And sure enough, he said ‘I am glad I could make the back pain go away.’
That is the point I lost my composure and told him, ‘The only reason my back pain has faded is in comparison to the pain you were inflicting on my little toe, the back pain suddenly seemed so benevolent, I’d have elected it to office if I could.’ He wasn’t listening (they rarely do) and simply patted my arm patronisingly, reclined his seat, and went off to sleep. I have no doubt he added this as one more conquest, and one more time his method worked, and use this ‘knowledge’ to strengthen and validate his belief that this works. Or, he was pulling a Poe on me and would regale future audiences with this hilarious anecdote.
Whatever it was, it was a long time ago. I never ran into the said gentleman again and let’s just say that am not completely unhappy about this coincidence.
Why did I recount it today? Because I realised Modi & Co’s strategy of ‘Achhe Din’. They have, maybe by design, or in all probablity, by accident, created such a situation where people are forgetting their past demands and pain points (when they were better off) because of the tremendous horror and distress he has inflicted upon them, and are happy just being able to survive.
For example, those who were, say, hoping that the cost of healthcare would come down or the quality would go up (as their definition of ‘Achhe Din’) are happy to simply get an Oxygen cylinder at even 4x the price for their sick mother in their car in the parking lot of the hospital. Their fear of a large hospital bill has been replaced by their fear of not even getting a hospital bed.
People who were hoping that the Indian passport would become more powerful and open up more countries for visa-free travel are happy simply that the immigration officer of a foreign nation accepts their vaccination certificate as genuine, even while trying his best to suppress a chortle at the PM’s photo on it. Their fear of not being allowed to enter another country of which they have a valid visa has overpowered their dream of visa-free travel.
People who hoped that we would become a military superpower after Modi’s win are happy simply that China is talking (of course, after taking over massive amounts of land) about removing their troops (even if they aren’t). Their fear of losing land has become secondary to their fear of losing land, lives, and reputation.
People who hoped that India becomes stronger than China are happy that at least we are better off than Pakistan. Their fear of losing to China has been overshadowed by their fear of losing to Bangladesh.
People who had hoped for larger things are basically happy even if they regress a little but not be completely wiped out. That is how low a bar we are now setting for this government, knowing fully well that even that may be slightly out of reach for their clumsy, inefficient, malevolent, toxic, poisonous, graceless, short-sighted, regressive selves.
There’s a folklore about Birbal, the court wit and one of the ‘Nau-Ratnas’ (nine invaluable jewels) at Akbar’s darbar, having won the challenge of making a line smaller without touching or erasing it, simply by drawing a larger, longer line next to it. This government has managed to make people’s expectations to shrink so quickly and so much that even a small delta of improvement is seen as a huge relief and a victory.
These people are neither the visionary leaders nor the statesmen you expected them to be. They are peddlers of woo and quackery, with the showmanship of a streetside magician who enthralls the crowd for a few minutes by conjuring a rabbit out of a hat or appearing to levitate. They are simply performers that make us feel better (with the word ‘better’ being the operative one, since it is always used as a comparative). Like a circus. Except that they are the ringmasters, and we are the performing animals in what can only be called
a ‘Panem et Circenses‘ style of government. With one major difference: there’s no panem.
