Will Rahul Gandhi’s dramatic tearing up of a hapless sheet of paper during the UP election campaign be the “Nani yaad ayegi” moment of his career?
Those of you born before the age of Twitter will recall how Rajiv Gandhi’s words on the lesson India would teach Pakistan marked a watershed in his political persona. From the diffident, reluctant politician he emerged as a spunky politician — one unafraid to call a spade a shovel. It made those who had written him off as no more than a Lutyen’s leader sit up and take notice.
Much the same appears to be happening in the case of Rahul Gandhi. First, of course, is the appearance: from his dimpled, clean shaven, bespectacled, close-cropped mien and a face that could launch a hundred chocolate brands to the bearded, hollow-cheeked, haunted-eyed battle-weary figure with his crumpled kurta sleeves perennially rolled up as if ready for a fight — Rahul has come a long way.
Even his voice has changed. Not so long ago, even his closest friends would not deny that as an orator Rahul’s voice was just this side of squeaky. That every time he was required to pump up the volume he would hit a high note. Today the same man’s hoarse-throated roar electrifies crowds.
More significant is his body language. Whereas earlier he delivered his speeches in unsure halts, often sounding unsure and apologetic, today he strides up to the podium like a young lion, gesticulates freely, speaks rapidly, jabs the air to emphasise a point and, yes, tears up hapless pieces of paper.
What has transformed the country’s leading chocolate boy into Che Guevara? I think the answer is simple: Like the young Arthur of legend, Rahul has found his Excalibur, and in his case his magic sword is the unwashed populace of India. From them he draws his strength and his raison d’être. Gone are his diffidence and his reluctant prince angst.
Having spent months with some of the poorest and most wretched people of the land, Rahul has shrugged off the awkwardness that any self-respecting young man must feel at landing a job through family connections.
His sense of decency must have galled at the accusations of nepotism and entitlement. Added to that was the irritation he inherited from both his parents at displays of fuss and sycophancy.
The Rahul who sat at 10, Janpath was a caged animal who chafed at the bars. Today, riding pillion on rusty bikes, over trucks, baked under the hot UP sun and rubbing shoulders with the unwashed multitudes, he is obviously in his element and having the time of his life.
That’s what knowing who you are and what makes you happy does to you. It transforms your DNA, puts a spring in your step, a depth in your voice and sheen to your cheeks.
Which is why I think that in the career trajectory of the young Gandhi scion, it matters not if the Congress wins more than 25 seats in UP, or gets to form a government, or opts to sit in the opposition — what matters is that Rahul has found his calling.
And it is there for all to see in his every sentence and step. He is a man of the people. Not for him the confines of offices or the inside of Parliament. It’s the country’s heat and dust that is his element.
Malavika Sangghvi is a Mumbai-based writer
malavikasangghvi@hotmail.com
