A COLLEAGUE asked me if I am a graduate. Sensing what he was hinting at, I emphatically replied: “No.”
“But,” he said, “Your record shows that you are a double graduate.”
“What if I am?”
“Sir, I am your fan and beseech that you contest the elections.”
“But I am not a politician”
“Oh sir, never mind that. Your record shows you have been a debater too.”
“What has that got to do with politics.”
“Politics, sir, is a minus-plus debate. You make one statement at one place today, another at some other place the next day and a different one the day after. All you need to do is catch the mood of the crowd and match your speech with it.”
“Can you give me an example,” I asked.
“Plenty, sir, plenty. But the one I heard personally and vividly remember is good food for thought.”
“What’s that?”
“I was attending a public meeting being addressed by a champion of democracy, URF civilian dictator who had mesmerized the masses by his rhetoric. Just at the climax of the fervour, some one from the crowd held up a torn shoe — metaphorically conveying the message he was too poor to afford even a torn shoe and, therefore, the speaker should step down. The speaker was more than a graduate and sensed the message all right, but soon twisted it saying ‘I know you have lost one shoe in the melee; but we’ll soon do some thing about it’. The crowd was humoured and the protester felt ashamed.”
“I am not that witty. I deal in figures which are a lullaby for most of our illiterates.”
“Okay. I’ll give you an example of figures. The same champion was addressing a business meeting, in which some one queried about the economic progress we had made under his leadership. At that time we had only one sugar mill and the champion had just laid the foundation of another one. Though the champion was not a statistician, he boasted ‘You see, in sugar production we hand made hundred percent progress’.”
“But that’s juggling.”
“Yes; but you see no one could refute it, though one plus one make two but percentage wise the champion was correct.”
“But I can’t fool people like that. My conscience will curse me till death.”
“Conscience, sir, is a consolable concept. Let me explain. A prime minister, with a heavy mandate, promised a relief package for senior citizens. What came out of it practically was concession in admission tickets to zoological gardens and, recently, for a cricket match. The conscience of the promiser was consoled.”
“But my conscience is different.”
“Oh, sir, conscience of a graduate is no different from that of an undergraduate’s. When you’ll hear roaring claps of simpleton masses, your conscience will be corrected accordingly. As for curses, not one of our politicians has yet died of them.”
“But most of them were ousted ashamedly.”
“That’s another story sir. But I know that you are so modest and obliging that you won’t displease the existing rank and file or do anything silly to upset them.”
“Wouldn’t that mean I am may not be able deliver what I promise to the plebian?”
“If claimants of heavy mandate can get away with it, why can’t graduate like you?
“What are you driving at?”
“I am driving at nothing, sir. I feel, if undergraduates can fool the public, the graduate can do it more convincingly!”
A COLLEAGUE asked me if I am a graduate. Sensing what he was hinting at, I emphatically replied: “No.”
