Aayaram Gayaram, Ribbit Ribbit! : A Political Monologue

Let him leap, let him posture! It is I who will bring him to his knees. I once mistook him for an eagle, but he turned out to be nothing more than a frog. I remember when he first appeared at my door, wearing a cap of pristine white. He stood with folded hands, a servile smile plastered on his face. His words, when he spoke, were reassuring. His professed secularism felt like a creed, and I saw in him a man of principle, of unwavering conviction. This, I thought, is a man who will keep his word, who will not stray from the path of his ideals. How utterly captivated I was! He was the selfless servant I had been searching for. And so, my mind made up, I extended my hand to him. I nourished him with the sustenance of my ballot, believing a well-fed man would work with vigour. But the nutrition in my vote was more potent than I knew, for he grew not just strong, but arrogant. That servile smile vanished, and soon, I was the one who felt subservient in his presence. Could this abomination truly be my own creation? I resolved then and there: the next time he came to my door, I would not offer my hand. I would not be dazzled by the white of his cap. I waited. But he was a wily creature. He returned having changed the very colour of his cap. “One cannot get your work done in a white cap,” he declared, having cast it aside for a blue one. And he presented his case with such intellectual flair that, once again, I was swayed. I failed to see his self-serving leap for what it was. By the time I did, it was far too late. To right my wrong, I began my vigil anew. This time, I vowed, I would not be fooled by the colour of his cap. But he was always a step ahead. He clung to me like a tick, growing ever more bloated. He returned to my door without a cap at all, flanked by a hundred followers bearing saffron banners. Followers? It was an army. I stood gaping in disbelief. Seeing my confusion, he explained, “A mere cap is not enough to get things done. But a banner… a banner draws men to it.” I felt a pang of guilt. Perhaps I was unfairly questioning his integrity. His ideals, surely, were the same. He had merely traded his cap for a banner, not his principles. This wasn't a frog's leap; it was a strategic flight. And so, I provisioned his army. With such a force behind him, I thought, who would dare stand in his way? My work would be done in a flash! But the very opposite occurred. Forsaking my needs, he went in the service of his Lord Ram. The man who yesterday preached the equality of all faiths was today a champion of one. My resources had been diverted. All I could do was strike my forehead in despair. What’s that you say? You suffered the same fate? You, too, were mesmerised by his deceptions? Very well. I cannot speak for you, but I have made my decision. He has trampled upon principle, ideals, integrity, and his sacred vow, all for a frog’s leap. To satisfy his gluttonous appetite, he has plunged a dagger into my back. The provisions for this croaking servant are hereby cut off! Wait, who else is singing this refrain? My friends, were you also his victims? I was a fool, but you are all so wise. How did you fall for it? What’s that? He is wiser still? A thousand times more clever? Then what does that make me? A thousand times the fool? You don’t recognise me? I am the King! The sovereign of this democracy! Yes, yes, laugh. Laugh at me, and I shall laugh at you. Just do one thing: do not mistake my folly for madness and start throwing stones. Else, we will just end up breaking each other’s heads, while the servant becomes the king and rules over us all. It is never difficult to conquer the kingdom of a foolish king. I hear he has built an empire now. His chieftains rush to his call, and he has no shortage of ghouls who feast upon his scraps. And what is this new rumour? The croaking has intensified? The Prime Servant’s enchantment spreads like a contagion? He pulls others towards him as a magnet pulls iron? The lotus flower is in full bloom, and all the frogs are leaping into its swamp. But I ask you, how long can he survive in that murky water? Will his left hand ever master the work of his right? How long will the progressive mask of a reactionary last? Let him come. Let him stand at my door. The servility will be gone from his face now; if he feigns it, I will see through it. In seventy years, this great fool has learned at least that much. And if I haven’t, then I am no king, but a slave. That, then, is my true station. It was for nothing that the freedom fighters broke their heads at the hands of the British; for nothing that the Mahatma wasted away to skin and bone, all to make a king of me. They were greater fools than I! My station… yes, my worth. It was only yesterday that I understood it, and the realisation brought me to my senses. I have resolved to put this leaping frog in his place. You think I won’t recognise him? Will he come disguised as a woman, or a woman as a man? Let him try any costume he desires. I know those old epics. I know the tricks of Ravana. He may come bearing a lotus, he may come having traded his white cap for a blue one, or his blue for a white. His colour may be saffron or it may be green. No matter what banner he carries, if he has leapt, I will hold him to account. I will demand an answer. “You who once spoke of secularism, how do you stand before me today bearing the name of a single faith? And this nationalism you trumpet—was it born in your belly or your brain?” And to the one who, until yesterday, chanted endlessly of religion but today suddenly chants of secularism, I will ask, “The religion in your belly—is it hidden today, or was it never there at all? Or did you vomit it out to empty your gut, only to feast anew?” What did I ever deny you? I placed the entire treasury in your hands! But you behaved like the fence that eats the farm. You abandoned loyalty. You forsook principle and broke your vows. For whom? For me? I do not believe it, Servant. I saw the figures on your affidavit yesterday, the declared value of your assets. I was speechless. Servant, I finally understood the reason for your leaps. I finally grasped the nature of your hunger. It is a hunger that can never be sated. I see now that you leap because you are afflicted with an insatiable disease. I understand the ailment of turncoats like you. But your affliction is not worthy of my sorrow. Do not come to my door again. I have seen your leaps. But I thank you, Servant. You showed me my own worth. You brought me to my senses. Now, I will show you yours. Only one thought remains: -Baban Minde Renowned Novelist (This article is the translated version of the original articleआयाराम गयाराम डराव डराव written by Baban Minde published in the Sahitya Chaprak Diwali Ank 2025 ) https://shop.chaprak.com/product/sahitya-chaprak-diwali-ank-2025/ https://youtu.be/rOW6xeFwqmc