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The Rediff Special/ A Ganesh Nadar

Vajpayee fails to charm Tiruchi crowd

Most of my villagers were sure that Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Union Home Minister Lal Kishenchand Advani wouldn't turn up for the Bharatiya Janata Party meet in Tiruchi. Because there were rumblings in the jails of Tamil Nadu. So when Advani cancelled, they had these smug, I-told-you-so smiles plastered on.

In Tirunelveli, a BJP man stood with flag at 2200 hours on Saturday night. The conductor on the bus to Madras said, "Tonight we are not passing through Tiruchi. I will offload passengers at the nearest point."

2310 hours. A bus flying the lotus flag. It had loudspeakers. A recording was on. It told us that the insoluble Cauvery problem had been solved by the BJP. Ah, the truth dawned. I had been wondering why they had chosen Tiruchi as the venue. The Cauvery flows through its heart.

Six of us got down at Tuvarankurichi, 65 kilometres from Tiruchi. It was unnerving at 0300 hours. The Tuvarankurichi police inspector said that he had been told to divert traffic at midnight. We realised that Vajpayee had touched base.

The inspector put us on another bus bound for Tiruchi. One of our fellow travellers belonged to the Rajiv Congress. He explained that he was the secretary of his district wing. Though they had arranged six vans, there was no place for him. He introduced his wife as the leader of the district women's wing. She didn't look like a leader. She looked like his wife.

The bus took us to the heart of Tiruchi. On the way, the police stopped us thrice. Twice they just waved us through. The third time a cop got in through the front door. Looked at us very importantly. Walked across, and got down through the rear entrance.

I got a room in the first hotel I entered. I was surprised. The clerk said, "No extra crowd because of the meet." Despite the Cauvery flowing through Tiruchi, the tap water at the hotel was salty.

On the road, there was a cop every 10 feet. I asked an inspector where I could get a 'press card'. He directed me to the deputy commissioner's office. I took a rickshaw. I asked the driver about the BJP meet.

"What BJP meet? There's no BJP meet here," he said. Seeing my amazement, he added, "There's a police meet on here."

The DC was not in his office. But there was a lot of activity. There was an all-women police station inside the complex. The lady cops had lined up. A male inspector was explaining their assignments to them. I noticed that the women inspectors, sub-inspectors and constables looked manly. The rest looked like girl guides. So a woman cop looking for promotion had to look like a man.

The instructions were mainly for the plainclothesmen. The ones in dhotis were sent to the Circuit House, where the PM was staying. "Mingle with the BJP party-workers, you look like a BJP man anyway," one was told. The rest were dispersed to other parts of the town.

Three gurkha types landed up. "You have bomb sensors? Good, Hindi maloom nahi (I don't know Hindi). When instructions come to me, I will pass on instructions to you," said the inspector. The gurkhas nodded and walked off.

The inspector didn't like me staring. So he made me sit some 100 feet away. I got tired after half an hour. I was directed to the police commissioner's office.

Outside, except for eating places, everything was shut. Maybe because it was Sunday. The driver said that even on Saturday everything was closed. Just as we were nearing his office, the commissioner left in the opposite direction. Looks like it is going to be one of those days, I thought.

An inspector explained to me that they were giving I-cards only to BJP workers. The press was being dealt with by the public relations officer, at the collector's office.

Another rickshaw. Two days ago, I had seen a news report, saying, 'Tiruchi Municipality asks BJP to remove all arches' as there was a court order restraining it from erecting arches. It went on to say "if the BJP doesn't remove these, the Municipality would do so and bill the party for it."

All bullshit. The arches were very much there. BJP flags were everywhere. Marumalarchi Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam and Rajiv Congress flags were visible at some places. Rajiv Congress banners were interesting. They had Rajiv Gandhi, Vajpayee and Vazhapadi Ramamurthy together. Strange, because Ramamurthy and Vajpayee never missed on opportunity to attack the Congress.

The PR department was working on a Sunday. They agreed to give me a press card provided the BJP PRO said so. I was directed to Hotel Femina, where the BJP had arranged for the press party from Madras to stay. It was a posh hotel. They certainly looked after the journalists well. After the assembly election in Rajasthan, my friend had said: "If the BJP's relations with the public were was good as their 'public relations' they would've won!" I realised the truth of the statement when I saw the granite hotel lobby.

The entire party had gone to the venue. Life for me stretched on in yet another rickshaw. The roads were deserted. There was a crowd outside. I passed the first gate with my Rediff I-card. At the second, the Rapid Action Force stopped me. Luckily the card worked again.

At the Anna stadium gate, there were cops frisking people. Inspector Dhanakodi allowed me in, but not my bag. I couldn't go back to the hotel because I could hear Vajpayeeji speaking. I rushed in. Half way through I realised that I had forgotten the letter I was supposed to get endorsed. I rushed back. The cops refused to allow me out.

"You can go out after 1400 hours," they told me.

I explained that like the Narasimha avatar, I wouldn't go out or in but stay at the door. I pointed at my bag, which was resting on a chair at the gate. I was allowed to recover the letter. I ran in.

I managed to locate one of the BJP PROs, Jaishanker. He saw my I-card and was satisfied. "Don't go now for your press card. Vajpayee is here, you are here, what else do you want?" he asked. The security looked fierce. I decided to stay by his side.

The SPG was all around the PM. Then the North Indian cops. I think they were the Rapid Action Force. Dressed in blue-black camouflage-type clothes. And then the state police. Vajpayee was speaking in English. There was a translator on stage. He said in Parliament they were trying to pass the Women's Reservation Bill for 33 per cent, but he was proud that here 50 per cent of the crowd were women. He was about 15 per cent of the mark, but never mind.

I spied come schedule tribe women among the crucial species. They belonged to the Narikurava nomadic group. Some of them had their babies slung on their backs. They were chattering among themselves. I doubted they knew what a political conference was.

Vajpayee said Tamil Nadu already had power and parliamentary affairs. (The reference was, of course, to Rangarajan Kumaramangalam, the Union minister handling those portfolios.) But he needed more MPs. Everybody clapped, and Kumaramangalam looked mighty pleased. Vajpayee then praised the Akali Dal for including the BJP in their ministry even though they had a majority of their own in Punjab. He wanted the Akali spirit in the coalition at the Centre too.

Then he gave the usual dialogue about Bihar. Also how the BJP behaved in the opposition and how the Congress now behaves. It was a listless speech. The crowd sat queasily. They clapped when the leaders led them.

Food had been arranged for everyone after the meeting. Water was supplied in pouches. The tribal women were very happy with the pouches. They carried away as many as they could get hold of. On the way out, they were given a medium sized bag with the BJP emblem on it. They were instructed to be ready for the public morcha at 1400 hours.

Up front, journalists remained in their seats. Kumarmangalam was testing the power of the mikes the TV guys had set up. The press conference was about to begin. Soon a cop started noting down names. Vajpayee came in. He looked like a zamindar (landlord). Handsome too. He sat down and smiled at us.

'I miss her spiritually too!'

The Rediff Specials

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