The Subtle Laws of the Art of Politics

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
submitted for Tanaya's contest.
prompt: "politics".

Submitted: August 13, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 13, 2011



TheSubtle Lawsof the Art of Politics

‘Wow! He’s a lion you know!’

‘Yes sir, he looks exactly like you.’ echoed one of the followers.

‘He’s a lion cub ha ha. Let him rule this nation.’ Screamed in joy, Mr. Rangasamy, Hon’ble minister of chemicals and fertilizers, Government of India. Generally speaking, he’s one of the big gums of the country. He always wears a white shirt and a white dhoti, as if it is his uniform; and was white skinned – Indian white. Nothing other than his appearance is white of him. He’s one of the biggest looters, indirectly affecting all the one billion people. He indeed is black, inside.

‘What? I won’t let my grandson become a politician like you.’ retorted his mother. His mother is one of the pure-hearted civilian. Though they’d billions of lucre stacked subtly she always stayed humble. She tried to change his son, but in vain. Adding fuel to the fire is Mrs. Rangasamy, who’s one of the most parsimonious and gluttonous creature on earth.

1st birthday.

Party. All the high profiled society is gathered in their home. That’s when junior Rangasamy, named as Karthik, started to walk, rather staggeringly. He’s set to play with other kids of his age and around. Mr. Rangasamy was busy chatting with other powerful politicians. To him, this party is but an opportunity to meeting all the ‘big hands’.

He was saying that his family astrologer said that Karthik will rule this country. He was so proud in even telling it. Self boasting is a ‘virtue’ that no one has to teach to a politician, especially the ‘daylight’ politicians like him. Daylight politician, yes, he’s a good politician in the daylight, that is, publicly, and a bad one in dark, that is privately.

2nd birthday.

The party is more luxurious than the 1st birthday. That year has been a ‘big turnover’ to Mr. Rangasamy. He was overwhelmed by the luck, as he believed and as the astrologer gibbered, brought by his son. He even had lost counts of the billions he’d amassed, which he’d hid in his cotton mill industry – he owns a few other industries too.

Everyone ran to the crying birthday baby. Karthik was crying because a kid had snatched “Bob, the Builder” from him. It was returned to his hands as fast as possible by the atmosphere of people who surrounded him. He started smiling. Mr. Rangasamy saw something that he liked in this incidence – his son’s stubbornness. He smiled to himself.

3rd birthday.

Party is so formal. So simple. As if showing humility. This is the last year he’d be a minister. Within the year gap, from 2nd to 3rd birthday, cabinet reshuffle took place and he received ministry of New and Renewable Energy. Not much of a ‘profit’. And indeed this birthday symbolises his sunset. He’s sure he won’t become M.P. again, for he’d played foul-game so much and people started to realize it. The Hon’ble Prime Minister condemned his actions twice, both the times, personally.

Just recently had he escaped an income tax department’s raid. Somehow they even fished out the place of concealment of money; but before could they reach, most of the wooden boxes were transported to safety. When the officials reached, however, there were two wooden boxes full of money. Amounted to about 10 crores. Mr. Rangasamy’s accountant somehow managed to make them ‘white money’, through his expertise.

Mr. Rangasamy acted as if he’s the poorest man on earth; lamenting to anyone and everyone. He already had piled up enough fortune that would allow 10 future generations to live in luxury. Yet the feeling of having a ‘power’ is what that drove him crazy.

4th birthday.

Mr. Rangasamy’s efforts all went in vain. He’s now a retired politician. As like every other retired politician, at least in India, he can’t spend his time without stages, flower bouquets, respects, tributes, and the like. No party now. He just can’t show his face out to public. Many hidden secrets came out in this year, just after he abrogated the throne. He was so frustrated.

A famous news channel mocked him in simply four words: “a few numerous scams”. He fumbled to get out of all those accusations. He’s yet in bail, three cases in effect. But he knows, for certain, that it will take, at least, 25 years for the cases to get solved. So it didn’t bother him much. No party this year.

5th birthday.

No party this year too. Just a simple cake cut and shared between family members. Mr. Rangasamy is all alone. No sycophants to sing his praise. He almost became a simple ‘common man’, but with three cases yet in balk. He continued to bask in luxury, while the common man continues to drop sweats on the face of mother India.

Little Karthik joined kindergarten. Now he’d graduated to 1st grade, in one of the most costly schools in the country.

8th birthday.

The entire nation including the record files had forgotten the scams. Mr. Rangasamy is now ‘pure’ again! Yet the cases are in stagnation. Mr. Rangasamy was summoned to school. He asked his wife to go, and seeing her illness, he went himself. The headmistress complained to him about Karthik.

She said, ‘Karthik is basically a clever person. A nice silent child. It all started with the election for class representative. One more student competed with your son. Knowing that he had a competitor, Karthik broke the other student’s head. He’s bleeding now...’

She went on speaking furiously, but nothing entered Mr. Rangasamy’s head. All that that kept on repeating in his head was that Karthik hates competition. Karthik destroys his enemy! Mr. Rangasamy was actually glad to hear that. Promising that his son won’t do that again, he left the premises. He felt so proud of his son.

8 years and 2 months.

‘Uncle I’m Ashok, Karthik’s friend.’

‘Karthik’s not home dear. I’ll inform him once-‘

‘No uncle, I came to see you.’

Mr. Rangasamy was amazed to see an eight year old kid coming to speak to him. He concluded that the present generation is very mature and shrewd at a very young age. The boy’s words vanished out into space after he left but the central idea of his conversation stayed fresh in Mr. Rangasamy’s brain.

The boy said that Karthik had been once the sweetest person in the whole class, and that Karthik is his best friend. He said that everything stayed until he became the class representative. After that, everything changed. Karthik disrespected everyone, bullied the girls and did every low things prohibited by teachers. Instead of biting at Karthik, he indeed felt so glad.

The boy said, in his exact words, if Mr. Rangasamy’s memory didn’t fail, ‘Uncle, Karthik is not the same. He was once awesome. All is until that. He entirely changed once power came to his hands. He loves to be in power. He thinks power is the ultimate thing to achieve.’

Age – above 17.

‘I’m very proud to introduce you all Mr. Rangasamy’s son Karthik. He showed so much passion in such a young age. I’m amazed at his zeal. After giving much thought to it, we’ve decided to give Mr. Karthik a chance. He’s going to represent our party, a privilege that his father once had, in this year’s oncoming legislative assembly elections.’ Said the speaker. Thunderous applause from the crowd. Mr. Rangasamy, who was seated in the front row, saw his son grab the microphone with so much enthusiasm.

© Copyright 2017 arun. All rights reserved.

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