The Drinking Man’s Guide to the Bihar Elections

File image: JD(U) chief and Bihar CM Nitish Kumar

With the exit polls predicting a defeat for the JD(U), I went to a self-styled political pundit in South Bombay to understand the reasons for Nitish Kumar’s declining popularity. Here’s the transcript of the in-depth interview:

Political Pundit (PP): Welcome, welcome. Would you like some Scotch?

Me: Sure, whatever you’re having.

PP: Scotch on the rocks then, it goes well with intellectual conversation. Fire away.

Me: Sir, do you think the migrant labour issue hurt Nitish in the polls?

PP: Let’s face it, you walk hundreds of miles in the heat and dust and what do you want when you finally get home? A beer, of course. And in Nitish’s Bihar, there’s no chance of getting any beer. After that, do you think that poor migrant labourer would vote for Nitish?

Me: I see. Could the lack of infrastructure also have something to do with it?

PP: Let’s have another one. Yes, certainly. Take the electric supply issue. When that migrant labourer is able to find the local bootlegger and finally get some beer, how is he going to chill it if there isn’t any electricity?

Me: This stuff is great.

PP: Glenfiddich. Unfortunately, that’s my last bottle. Let’s switch to vodka.

Me: OK. I remember when I used to stay in a village where the electric supply was very erratic, we used to lower the beer bottles in a bucket to the bottom of the well to keep them cool.

PP: You will go far, my friend. But that’s where the floods in Bihar come in.

Me: You mean the people blamed Nitish for the floods?

PP: Definitely. The floods flooded all the wells. So the option of cooling the beer bottles by storing them at the bottom of the well was no longer available. No wonder the people were so frustrated. Imagine all that water sloshing around, but you couldn’t get sloshed. All that suffering---I feel so sad, I must have a refill. Here, have another one, it’ll take away the pain.

Me: Thank you sir. Do you think that unemployment could be a reason for the disenchantment with Nitish?

PP: I have no doubt about it. Bihar used to have a terrific economy, with lots of jobs. Guys used to be employed in the distilleries, the breweries, the hooch makers. There were chaps doing the manufacturing, others did the selling, accountants were employed for cooking the books, landlords got the rent from the shops selling booze---it was a whole eco…eco…ecoshyshtem. Heh, heh, managed that, eh?

Me: Brilliantly, sir.

PP: Hmmm….where was I?

Me: I’ve completely forgotten.

PP: Never mind, have some rum. Oh yes, I was talking about jobs. All those jobs went down the drain when Nitish banned booze. Naturally, the folks who were employed there and their families felt let down. And I’m not even saying anything about the tain of the pipplers.

Me: Pipplers?

PP: The pain of the tipplers.

Me: But what about the women, sir? Weren’t they in favour of prohibition?

PP: Let me tell you a little story about my young nephew in Begusarai. Like most bachelors, he was in the habit of whooping it up every evening in the local bars. The problem arose when he got married. He continued to party with his friends, while his bride moped around at home. It wasn’t long before the atmosphere at home became strained and quarrels erupted regularly among the newly-weds. It was then that I stepped in with some sound advice for the young fellow---as his uncle, it was my responsibility to save his marriage. So imagine the surprise of the bride when, one day after work, the young fellow comes home and waves a bottle at his wife. She laughs happily, gets two glasses, makes some chakhna pronto and the two of them share the bottle. This becomes a daily habit and Begusarai has never known a more devoted couple since then. Peace and quiet reign in their home, often interrupted by snatches of song. So you see, you really can’t predict the women’s vote. What’s happening to you?

Me: Nothing, sir, why?

PP: I thought you were flickering a bit at the edges.

Me: I think it’s the room, sir, it’s started to wobble.

PP: Inexplicable.

Me: To come back to the topic, surely Nitish has a good record in education---there are plenty of schools now in Bihar.

PP: The schools have only made matters worse for Nitish. Because there are no jobs in Bihar, people pass out of school and go to other states.

Me (interrupting): Yes, yes I see, they compare these places with Bihar and see how poor their home state is.

PP: They look at the new city and what do they see? Whisky and vodka and rum and tequila and feni and craft beer, none of which is available in Bihar. And then they realise it’s all because of Nitish. It’s a wonder they have put up with him for so long.

Me: I’ve heard caste is a big factor in the Bihar elections?

PP: You see, booze used to be a major factor in inter-caste bonding. You had all castes sitting around boozing together at the local hooch shop. The camaraderie was excellent. But prohibition ended all that.

Me: Could the fact that Bihar has been unable to shake off poverty have anything to do with the debacle?

PP: We have poverty all over India. But in most other states, poor folk can down a few pegs and the world suddenly becomes a better place, life becomes worth living, they have something to look forward to at the end of a day of back-breaking work. It’s criminal to take away that comfort. It’s so bloody tragic.

Me: Really heart-breaking. Don’t cry sir.

PP: I’m fine, I’m fine. Pass the rum. Did you bring that pink elephant with you?

Me: I thought it was yours, sir. But if you close one eye, it goes away. By the way, I did hear that Nitish did a good job building roads?

PP: What on earth is the point of building roads if they don’t lead to booze shops?

Me: True, true, very profound. Last question, sir, which party do you support?

PP: CPI.

Me: The Commies? Good God, why?

PP: Don’t be silly. The Cocktail Party of India.

Me: Cheers then.

PP: Bottoms up.