Anand Is Such A Bore

Unlikely as it may sound, modesty is not one virtue anybody will associate Mr P.V.Narasimha Rao with after the Insider. In a book replete with adjectived characters (if Narasimha Rao can be seen to be obsessing with an issue...), but mostly of the plastic kind, the adjectives have a ring of sincerity only in the case of two characters: Anand and Aruna. And Anand is anything but ordinary. Brilliant, Brihaspati, the Wise One, the philosopher, the Sincere One, the Bomb Thrower against the Nizam, the Upholder of Land Reforms, the Disinterested who became a Chief Minister many manifestations of the Second Coming. And who should know Anand better than Narasimha Rao ?

So, if such is the out of this world quality of this insider, one has the right to expect a book blindingly brilliant in its insights and observations, in its reportage and in its characterisations, even if, in a concession to its bastard form, it is conceded that it can be weak in the storyline. Consider: this purports to be the story of a brilliant but detached soul who spends a lifetime in politics motivated by nothing other than the desire to serve the people. What is more, this modern day Sanjay is a witness-cum-participant to one of the most fascinating periods in this country s history. If everything was as it should have been, this should have been a rivetting read: what a passage and what journeypersons ! Ergo, what a story.

Instead, the book is a bore. Actually, that should not come as a surprise. If a book is not even clear about its genre: is it fiction or is it an autobiography ?, it is inevitable that this confusion should infect everything about it. The book does not work as good fiction firstly because it is not fiction. Good fiction has a strong story, sharply etched characters, epochal events and through the interplay of all these, universal truths and insights which enlighten and ennoble even as the story entertains. The Insider has none of this. And neither is the Insider a documentary because Rao pulls all his punches.

In the Insider, Anand is the only flesh and blood character and he, poor chap, cannot evolve any more since he is born brilliant. It requires no explanation then that he goes on to pursue that most noble of all professions, politics, and, no surprise either, that he, alone of all politicians, is sincere about the party s manifesto. And it is inevitable, is it not, that Anand (nee Rao) should be Indira Gandhi s choice to be the chief minister of Afrozabad (nee Andhra Pradesh) when the post-1971 Durga form of Indira Gandhi sweeps the Congress cupboard of strong chief minister and instals Rao as the first nominated chief minister, though Rao does nothing to occasion that. Since he goes through everything Sphinx like, you look for something that really grips him, if only to engage with his story.

Land reform does, even if Anand takes pages to say what could have been said in paragraphs. Easily the most sincere part of the book is the understanding Rao brings to the central nature of the issue in the 60s and 70s. Particularly fascinating is the depiction of his own role in trying to faithfully implement the party manifesto on this. This episode has everything: including a Revelation at 3 am which tells him how to outwit the Establishment. If indecisiveness is commonly supposed to be the middle name of PVN, this episode should nail the lie.

It is history that, thanks to his pathbreaking efforts, an alarmed Indira Gandhi quickly removed him as the chief minister and brought him to Delhi. It is entirely typical of the shallowness and insincerity of Rao s book that not a word is said about how Indira Gandhi did this, why she did it, how she put it to Rao, how Rao took it, how his detractors took it; in short, the fascinating and revealing politics of the thing. For somebody who spends entire chapters rationalising the politics of Garibi Hatao, it is a terrible anticlimax when Rao offers no details on this episode which should have shaken him. Maybe in the sequel, Mr Rao will stand up and be willing to be counted.