The hunters of Mayiladuthurai

electing a big-game hunter to represent them.Surely a man who refuses to allow panthers to break the law can be expected to deliver the goods as a lawmaker. The lawmaker needs to have his wits about him in the presence of man-eaters, and a fixed, unflinching expression when it comes to the crunch. In short, a person who would be at the right place at the right time, and do the right thing with firmness of purpose, thus ensuring the safety of the life and limb of the voter, the real mai-baap. Not a propensity to adhere to the apron strings of an Italian mai.

Few claimants to power possess such characteristics. An unpublished report from Mayiladuthurai says that its former representative offended voters by indulging in a different sort of hunt in Delhi. His game was sycophancy, and he basked in the reflected glory of an extra-constitutional family which once ruled the democratic polity of our banana republic.

Instead of being available at all times to rush to the succour of his voters — for instance, to save them from marauding man-eaters — he indulged in self-aggrandisement via venom-filled writing in defence of the Family. It was this servility that led voters to look beyond him.

But to return to the man-eater, the poor panther of Mayiladuthurai can hardly be blamed for voters deciding to kick out their sitting MP, who has now achieved the distinction of being the country’s highest-paid columnist. Did they not have the foresight to realise this when they cast their votes in May, 1996? Did they have no vision? Did they not know that their sitting MP was close to those who controlled India’s largest private foundation?On the contrary, the unpublished report from Mayiladuthurai states, its voters displayed extraordinary foresight when they voted out their MP one and a half years ago.

First, they had had the foresight to guess that he would one day go on from being a mere trustee of India’s largest private foundation to a more satisfying involvement with its work. And second, the voters of Mayiladuthurai had been afforded a glimpse into the colour of the liver of their non-game hunting MP during the run-up to the last general elections.It happened when another P.V. set free a toothless empress. When she visited Mayiladuthurai and neighbouring areas, all candidates were herded together so that the empress, short on time, could quickly introduce them and move on to the next district.

The empress climbed onto her vehicle and, towering above her ordinary subjects, pointed to the candidates — all standing on little stools like ageing lions, holding up their declawed paws to the crack of the ring-master’s whip — and told the people to vote for them.

The sitting MP of Mayiladuthurai was one of those standing on a stool.And the people of Mayiladuthurai wondered. “If this in how our MP behaves in the presence of a toothless empress, what will he do when faced with a man-eater?” Ergo, they voted out the stool-stander and voted in the game-hunter, leaving the former free to become the country’s highest-paid columnist, and the latter to protect them from the denizens of the forest.