Right leg over his left shoulder, left leg over his right shoulder, right arm stretching all the way behind his back touching his left ears, left arm stretched the same way touching the right ear, and his head somewhere in the maze, Kovalan was in asatyamochanasana. The posture prescribed by Baba Yogadev was a one-shot vaccine against corruption, if practised on empty stomach. Kovalan didn’t have the money to go to Dilli, where a spiritual guru was fasting to fight bribes. The monkey instead chose to show his support in Junglistan itself.
Kovalan chose the venue carefully, right in front of Ittooppu’s tea stall, where animals of Junglistan gathered every morning and evening. First when the animals saw Kovalan in a twisted mass, they assumed it to be the result of a bar brawl. Kovalan’s drinking habits and exploits were acknowledged and respected by one and all in the Republic. If drinkers mixed rum with cola, Kovalan mixed it with whiskey and vodka.
Then their eyes fell on a banner tied to a nearby coconut tree. Swami Kovalananda on hunger strike — Day 1.
The news spread like wildfire. Animals left their work and flocked to Ittooppu’s shop.
“Has Kovalan given up drinking?” Kudiyan Paramu, his drinking partner, was genuinely concerned. So was Kallu Vasu, the owner of the local bar. “What the hell is his problem?” The fox couldn’t fathom Kovalan’s new fad.
‘Will chief minister Kunjoonju send ministers to negotiate with Kovalan?” asked Nanappan, the deer. “After all, his prime minister had sent four ministers to welcome Yogadev.”
“I doubt,” explained Kumaran, who edited the Junglistan Times, “No revolution is a revolution until it is held in Dilli.”
“Can Kunjoonju afford to ignore Kovalan? He only has a slender majority. And the issue is corruption.”
“Hello, 1, 2, 3, mike testing”
All eyes turned to a platform that had come up right opposite ittooppu’s shop. Pachu, Kovalan’s close friend, and a few other monkeys lifted Swami Kovalananda and placed him in the middle of the platform.
Pachu took the microphone again.
“Satyameva Jayate.”
Pachu wanted to start with a flourish, and tried many verses from the Gita, only to stumble at every word. He was forced to settle for satyameva jayate. Short and sweet.
“From 2G to Commonwealth games to Kargilgate, Junglistan has seen the entire spectrum of corruption. Many of our ministers are today in prison. Our country has become the butt of jokes in front of the world. Yet we watch helplessly. Today Swami Kovalananda is saying enough is enough. Include us, the common animals of Junglistan in the decision making process. We want corruption to end right now, right here.”
The short speech was greeted with an applause, loud but unsure.
“Countrymen, Kovalananda is going to fast till all his demands are met.”
“What are his demands?” Tortoise Kunhiraman sought to know. “Let me see if I can help.” He was joined by the local minister Kodali Damu, and JJP president Parappanangadi Pappan. They formed a 3-member committee right there, waiting for no formal communication from the CM.
“Our demands are many. Give us Lokpal first. The father of all investigation bodies.”
“Done. When do you want the Lokpal?” Damu stepped in.
“What will his job be?” Chinnu asked.
“He should have powers to investigate every citizen of this country,” Pachu continued, “All constables, inspectors, DGPs, CBI, NIA, ED, DRI, CBDT, CVC, CIC, JPC, PAC, RAW, IB must report to him.”
“Of course he wouldn’t mind if FBI, CIA, MI6, MI5, Mossad, ISI also report to the Lokpal,” said Paramu. He still couldn’t digest his friend didn’t include him in the latest project of his.
“Every panchayat member, sarpanch, MP, MLA, MLC, minister, Prime Minister – and his remote controller, if any – must be under the Lokpal’s watch. Politicians as a tribe are the most corrupt. On that we all agree. So to make the Lokpal’s work easy, all of them should be under round the clock camera surveillance.”
“But that would be a breach of Parliamentary privilege,” Chinnamma interrupted. Of that she was sure because she was an MP. Members of Parliament were quite aware of their privileges, though they didn’t know why they were in parliament or what their job was. Chinnamma was trained to say ‘aye’ and ‘nay’ as her bosses ordered. She had spent almost a lifetime in Parliament doing just that, for which she got in addition to her wages and funds, masala dosas, cutlets, thalis at just about 5 rupees each.
“If at all the government agrees to this demand, we MPs must be informed beforehand where the cameras are installed.” Chinnamma wasn’t concerned anout being caught taking bribes. For that she had other trained hands. Of late Chinnamma was having an affair with a fellow MP. She was worried her escapades with him would be caught on camera. That would be disastrous. It wouldn’t take minutes for such stuff to go viral. Chinnamma knew cops could forgive financial fraud and murders, but sex is one thing they just wouldn’t turn a blind eye to. You just cannot question their competence on that. What will Lokpal be after all? A super super super cop.
“Fast against bribes, my foot,” said Shambhu, the elephant. He turned to Nanappan, “You are my best friend. Remember last time you wanted a ration card issued, you came to me. And you got it for how much? 2,000 rupees? And in no time. We are more efficient than the firangs.”
Nanappan couldn’t disagree.
“Bribes run this country, why do you want to ban it,” asked Shambhu, a clerk in the civil supplies department.
“We want the courts – all of them, including the chief justice of India under the Lokpal’s watch,” continued Pachu.
“Will Lokpal be the super supreme court,” asked Kuyilamma, the cuckoo. An old case filed against her by a crow had been settled in her favour under the Junglistan Tenant Rights Act. She was worried if the order could be challenged in a Lokpal court.
But Pachu ignored her.
“Lokpal will be only the first step. The animals of Junglistan have been demanding the Bharat Ratna for Sachin Tendulkar. And what did the government do? Swamiji wants to know why is it not happening. He wants not just the Bharat Ratna, but the Nobel prize for Tendulkar.”
This demand met with the loudest cheers.
“Swamiji wants to know what the government is doing to make rupee the global currency. Today a dollar costs 50 rupees. Why? Why can’t 1 rupee equal 50 rupees? Our inefficiency what else?” Pachu had started enjoying it.
“The US killed Osama bin Laden when he bombed their building. What did we do when terrorists killed innocent people in Mumbai. Swamiji is asking what are we waiting for? Why are we not bombing Pakistan?”
“OK, now I know what he wants,” Kunhiraman said, “He wants a Global Cop. I thought we already had the United States of America.”
Swami Kovalandana started moving. Pachu thrust a microphone on Swami’s face. Pin drop silence. The entire audience was waiting for the Swami to speak. Was he going to fast till death? What if we didn’t bomb Pakistan? What if we didn’t revalue the currency?
‘”D K Bose, I am stuck here. Can someone please help me out of asatyamochanasana?” Kovalan said with all the warmth and love he could muster looking at Pachu. Even Kovalan, the drunkard that he was, knew they had lost the plot.
Kovalananda was freed but his Yogadev is still stuck.
–Agencies