Friday, May 20, 2005
Summ pear-son frum Kaiii-rrlla haze a vendor-full ayyy-deuh awn-leh.
There are some who think this idea (or ayyy-deuh, or biz-niss maw-dll) can be replicated in other parts of the country. Their number includes my Blogger-in-the-Flesh who (like his hair) remains largely Uncut (yes, this is sheer envy speaking) and a correspondent with a wonderfully evocative name. (Digression - our friend in college, Jane Mary John, soon became Jane Meri Jaan. Her shyam-borno boyfriend, of course, was Tar-jane).
I would advise them to do a market survey first.
Because it really wouldn't work in Bengal, you know. We've got it down pat here, we don't need to outsource the event management, "our boys" can handle it well enough, thank you very much. They've been doing it for years, why should we give somebody else the chance to make a little on the side?
And even in the supposedly apolitical Pnnn-jaabb-uh, I came across the "rum and rally" idea three years ago. Only there they called it "pagg-uh hore lagg-uh", which (translated for those who don't understand this most melodious of all languages) means "a peg and a leg". Nothing to do with Long John Silver (Digression #2 - the original title idea for "Treasure Island" was "The Sea Cook"), but a Peg of Whiskey and a Leg of Chicken. Of the National Bird of the region, in fact. To wit, Tnn-doooree Chik-ken.
In the constituency where I'd been sent, one candidate's election platform was a large trailer drawn by a Tata Safari. Loaded with CRATES of Solan whiskey and the charred remains of a poultry farm. His appetites were as large as his heart. For every sip he offered, he would take one himself; his day's canvassing ending only when he subsided into the trailer, snoring blissfully. At which point his nephew (on Safari with him, so to speak) would steer homewards. Steer a little erratically, since Said Nephew shared the family trait of appreciating the simple pleasures (or plai-years) of life.
Within the letter of the law, this school of campaigning amounted to soliciting for votes with promise of gain. Another candidate ventured to complain about these methods. The native Punjabi, however, has a large heart. The complainant was immediately rebuked and shushed by at least three other candidates, the largest of whom turned to me and said, with a dismissive wave of a huge hand, 'Wo koi nahin jee, bacche thod-di si jo pee pah lehnde so ki fark painda'.
Sadly enough, the devotee of Bacchus lost his deposit. Quite a pity. His career in the Assembly could have been of considerable interest.
(Digression #3 - I now have an Actual Post with Links to Other Posts. I am well on my way to becoming a Serious Blogger. Maybe even - be still, my beating heart! - a Libertarian Despite Being in Gormante. [And I thought that only the C-hollege Mafia could be so entirely patronising!] Oh frabjous day!)