17 The Face off: Father vs Son
The trumpet of a straight war between father and son had been blown. It was more a choice between peace and revenge. I had the sword in my hand; the only problem was I did not know to fight with it. My father had spent a generation in politics while I was simply a ‘nobody’ in this field. In other words, there was no competition between us. I remember the day in which my friends and I were throwing ideas at each other most of which were stupid ones. We were all worried yet anything that seemed possible even though it might sound crazy or had very less viability it was being discussed.
“Why don’t we use social network?” asked Duple.
“Although a good idea but won’t work with the senior people or poor ones” I replied.
“Posters?”
“Nobody reads minnows posters”
We moved here and there in tension thinking of what can make a bigger impact on the city and in the process, anything that came into the thoughts was vomited to rest. Then the heads were scratched to debug the viability of those ideas. Hundreds of cup of coffee and ashes of cigarette laid on the table clearly marked the extent of brainwork we had done that day. Literally, our heads smoked out of tension same as an electronic device does when it is overused. And after filtering various crazy ideas Aarti spoke up something, which sounded crazy initially but later changed the whole course of the game.
“Why don’t you contest against him?” suggested Aarti while we three froze momentarily.
“Fight whom?” asked Duple in a joking sense.
“His father” replied Aarti as Duple started to laugh at her reply.
“What?” she asked surprisingly.
The problem was that till now we were tinkering over the ideas to stop Abbu winning the elections by influencing people for peace and harmony among each other. But I had never even imagined to directly contesting Abbu in elections to stop him. It was an idea that looked senseless then and was completely rejected by me.
“Look Aarti …I respect your suggestion but that is simply not possible” I replied her frankly.
“But why?” she asked surprisingly.
“Because (paused due to perplexity)…because that is something beyond my abilities. I am no politician. Even I don’t even possess any traits of a politician. I cannot speak in public. I cannot speak lies or betray people. And above all he is my father and I cannot even imagine standing against him,” I replied to her as both my friends nodded their heads in appreciation.
“That’s why you must do even if he is your father. Don’t forget that he is standing on the wrong side. Faizan try to understand there is no other way” she insisted.
“You try to understand” I stressed her. “Tell me why would anybody interested to listen to me when they just don’t know me. And even in heavens you know by a slip of fate I win…”
“O Come on man…,” said Duple to express the impossibility of the event as Zeeshan too sniggered slightly.
“No…but consider if by chance I win then what?” I said to her.
“Then What? What do you mean by ‘then what’ Of course bring those changes that you always expect from other politicians” she said.
“Aarti that is not possible. I just said that I cannot lie, I cannot betray…”
“That is why you must join politics because you are honest. Faizan just listen to me. Why wait and hope for others to make everything fine someday? Why not clean the mess ourselves?” she said.
“What you are talking sounds good only in films. You are expecting of something like magic. And why we are discussing it when we know it cannot happen” I said to her.
And we kept arguing each other until the day ended. What she suggested was something that looked impossible then and finally ended as an argument. She left in disgust while I stood there simply distressed and thoughtful. When I was a child, I wanted to be a Superhero so that I could save everyone from the bad guys. When I grew a little, I changed it to businessperson so that I could donate a lot of money to poor students. Later I re-changed it to doctor so that I could cure patients for free. Meaning is that I always wanted to help people and look 15 years after I became directly the Prime Minister by the God’s grace and hence got opportunity to help people. However, the day came after a very long night and much yet had to happen in my life before becoming the PM.
The next few days witnessed a cyclonic atmosphere of political season. Although I was still wondering about new ways to prevent my father create any possibility of riot he was busy day and night in political road shows, campaigns, and rallies. Every time when you switch on the TV you could see him, giving controversial and threatening speeches against Hindu community and unfortunately that helped him strengthen his position and victory in election. He was no doubt a brilliant speaker and had a strong hold on his voters. People from far places used to come to listen to him. And one such day I too went to listen to him live. There was a huge crowd; I suppose not less than 20 thousands and I could barely see his face from such a large distance. He looked like an ant from that distance but his speech was quite audible.
“…they killed our children, raped our women, and murdered our brothers brutally. Will we just forget it like a bad dream? (People replied a loud ‘NO’ in response). The opposition and the media they all are accusing me of creating chances of another riot in the town. But what they see as riot we see as justice. Justice for the sacrifice of our innocent people. Tell me don’t you want to give your loved ones justice for their brutal massacre? (People reply positively). Even the Supreme Court and the Prime Minister has warned me for the same. But nothing can stop us now. We will no more tolerate any sort of interference in our mission. The murderers will have to pay for their sin. They killed our children we will kill theirs too. They raped our women we will rape theirs too. Let the swords decide justice…” he said as I made the bravest attempt of my life by cutting him in between
“…Hold on yourself just there. How can you say that only Muslims were targeted in the Saharabad riot? How can you say that the people of the Hindu community started the riot? Perhaps what is the proof that a common man whose day spends starving for food & job; the people whose whole life passes solving his own personal household puzzles. Those who do not have time to relax even a single day from work. Those pathetic poor common people. What is the proof that those people, may be of any community any religion, started or participated in the riot?” I asked him in front of everybody on the mike and people started to buzz among themselves.
Someone from the stage shouted, “Who is this mad man and how dare he speak in between?” and someone from the crowd whispered, “He is the son of Ahmad khan. His name is Faizan khan” and soon the message spread like fire in the whole crowd, which unintentionally introduced me to people politically for the first time.
Unheeded by the interruption I continued with my questions again, “It does not matter who I am. But what matters is who was actually responsible for the riot. I ask you people can a common man participate in a riot (people looked at each other and responded nodding their head in negation). Did you start the war? (They again nodded negatively) Did you ever wished for hatred and disharmony? (People again nodded negatively) Then what makes you think that same common people of the opposite community hate you and can riot you. They are same as we are. They too have problems in life. They too are busy in their job. They too want peace and harmony as we do. There is no difference between them and us. A common man never initiates riot. It’s always the politicians who create differences among us for their personal benefits.”
Slowly and gradually, change could be observed in public’s viewpoint. And perhaps somebody even shouted in appreciation “He is right. I myself am whole day caught into the web of responsibilities. I have to arrange money for my sister’s marriage; pay school fees for children. Work whole day to earn their living. Where do I have time to kill people? In fact, I would care to run for my life than to kill others during violence.”
“And I work in an office where most of my colleagues are Hindu. We are good friends too. They can in no way be so brutal. No way” said another.
Perhaps unwillingly I spoiled my father’s party. Consequently, an outraged panel of ministers from the stage asked their men to chase me out from the public. My father although protested for me. Nevertheless, I was kicked out of the public area and perhaps someone hit me hard on my head when I tried to resist. And instantly I fell down then and there. When I opened my eyes, I saw myself back into the hospital. Aarti was of course standing there with a syringe in her hand.
“Don’t…..” I resisted although she had injected the syringe before I could resisted. When recovered I asked her about what happened subsequently after my unconscious.
“Nothing. You just got your head burst” she replied.
“And how did you know I was there?” I asked her.
“Well you were live on TV” she replied.
“What?”
“I had forecasted the consequences,” she said applying stitches to my wounds”. “That was brave though…,” she said with a smile.
“And you reached there in time. How many times Aarti? How many times?” I asked her anxiously.
But she hustled without heeding, turned before closing the door, and said “Every time”.
She had become indispensible part of my life and I did not know how would I payback for all her helps and whatever she had done for me. Soon I was discharged and as soon as I came out of the hospital, a huge crowd of media persons surrounded me. They threw various questions at me, which made me uncomfortable.
“Mr Faizan, Why are you against your father?”
“Mr Faizan, Do you intend to prevent riots or it was a publicity stunt in view to near elections?”
“What are your future plans?”
“Mr Faizan, Will you contest against your father?”
“Mr Faizan, Answer. Answer the question Mr Faizan. Will you contest against your father?”
Their questions were thrilling me. I felt very uncomfortable; my conscience was puzzled in trivia of various pros & cons of political life & social responsibilities. ‘Should I contest the elections? Yes- No. What?’ Questions were pricking my mind, which was already choked with hesitation and shyness. Then, momentarily, I heard a calm & soothing voice perhaps of the almighty. It said ‘Do it son’.
“I’ll”
“What?” They all got speechless and wanted to hear once more in a clear tone.
“I said I will contest the elections and that too against my father and we have decided to campaign against him” I replied zealously bold as I could see Aarti smiling from the balcony.
“What makes you so sure about your victory?”
“Nothing but hope” I replied to the media person awfully. “I got no plans; no support; and no money. All I know is that I must fight this election to stop my father’s ill desires. That is what I all have to say right at the moment. No more questions. Please excuse me.”
And I left from there a bit nervous because only the future knew that this quick slip of tongue was bravery or stupidity. Nevertheless, no matter how much this decision impressed the local people but there was one man for sure who was watching me from thousands of miles away from Saharabad in New Delhi and I really caught a scrap of his attention. He was the then current Prime Minister of India, Mr Suryadev Shankar, who was watching me live on the TV.
“This one is interesting. Who’s he though?” he asked one of his minister who was there with him.
“Don’t mind sir but I don’t think he has any chance to win in Saharabad. The city has always been one of the most promising places for our opposition party governed by Ahmad khan, his father, for over two decades now,” replied the minister to PM, which surprised him completely.
“What? He is son of Ahmad Khan?” asked the PM surprisingly.
“Yes sir. Both father and son have been in news for recent few days. His father is considered a very tyrant ruler in the city and it seems that his son does not like that and consequently a feud has cropped up between the two. And now today the son gave an open challenge to his father as you just saw” replied the minister.
“Interesting! Very interesting! This is where we should enter into the scene. Keep an eye over the activities of this boy. I can see a bright future in him,” said the PM.
“Yes sir”
Someone has very rightly said that God help those who help themselves. I could have never scaled those dizzying heights without the support of such political giants. Although completely unaware of the slowly opening doors of opportunity then, I pulled up my socks for a straight war with the local political giant, my dad.
“I don’t know he will win or not but that was brave bro” said Sam who was joined by rest of the friends in Zeeshan’s house where I was staying temporally.
“Yeah but truly speaking I myself am nervous now. I think I have made a mistake in over zeal” I replied.
“He thinks he has made a mistake,” sneered Duple.
“Shut up! Ram. Faizan listen to me. You have crossed much far now and you cannot step back from here. Instead of declining from your decision think ahead of how you can influence voters to your side,” said Aarti.
“Uncle Ahmed had received 33000 plus votes in previous election. So the target is quite clear,” said Zeeshan.
“Listen to me now. Saharabad has about 1.5 lakh voters and only 30 percent people vote here. If we successfully motivate people to cast their vote then the tables can significantly change,” said Sam.
“He is right. We cannot touch voters who are loyal to Uncle. Instead we should concentrate on the people who do not vote and especially the new voters who will vote for the first time,” said Zeeshan.
“Seriously man you people really think we can break the streak of his father?” said Duple sneering again.
“Man what’s wrong in trying? We got nothing to lose but only to win. So what’s wrong in trying?” said Sam convincing Duple.
“Duple if you cannot help at least don’t depress him,” Zeeshan said to Duple.
“Fine. I’m sorry. I have an idea if you want to listen,” said Duple to us.
“What idea?” I asked to him.
“We all know that nobody will be interested to come to listen to Faizan as he is simply a dwarf in politics. And if we want to defeat someone as giant as your father himself we need to influence a much larger number of people. But people can come if we call any film star or any other celebrity. We can generate a big crowd if we announce that a big film personality is coming to Saharabad. What do you say?” said Duple as it surprised everybody.
“Film star? Buddy stop dreaming. Who has money to pay for his appearance?” asked Zeeshan to Duple.
“What’s wrong in trying as you earlier said to me?” replied Duple.
“Shut up man. I mean they take millions for just few minutes. Where do we have that much of money?” asked Zeeshan angrily.
“Well we can talk to someone who is low costing,” said Sam in between as we all stared at him in surprised.
“Sam? You too? What are you saying?” asked Zeeshan.
“Duple is right. Why would anybody come in this scorching summer to hear someone they even don’t know? If we want crowd we will have to arrange a magnet. And I know someone who can support” replied Sam.
“Who?”
“Sameer Khan”
“Sameer Khan. That new actor?” asked Zeeshan jokingly.
“Yeah! What? Don’t you like him?” asked Sam jokingly.
“This is stupid. Why would he come to support us?” asked Zeeshan.
“Because we will pay him for that” replied Sam.
“When I said we don’t have enough money for contesting the election what did your holy brain comprehend?” asked Zeeshan frustratingly.
“Then we must arrange it. Look if you have any better idea speak it out otherwise leave for Mumbai as quick as you can...,” said Duple straight forwardly.
The next day Sam left for Mumbai city. There he met Sameer Khan as decided. Now Sameer Khan was a new actor yet he asked for a very high fee unexpectedly. Sam had to really use the best of his cunningness to bargain the fee down to the best he could save.
“Mr Sam I’ll take 50 lakh rupees for one show” uttered Sameer Khan straight forward.
“50?” asked Sam as the price was not going down his throat.
“Yeah 50 lakh in cash” replied Sameer Khan.
“Well sir 50 lakh is too high amount to pay right at the moment for us...,”said Sam.
“Then sir I fear that I won’t be able to help you in anyway. Please excuse me...,” said Sameer Khan cutting him in between which irritated Sam.
“Maybe there would be some other ways we can work it out Mr Sameer you know...,” said Sameer to carry on the conversation.
“Look Mr Sam I want to help you really I swear. But you know other shows maybe any college university or something else they pay me 60 lakhs for an hour...” said Sameer khan as Sam cut him in between.
“60 lakhs for an hour?”
“Yes that’s right. 60 lakhs for an hour”
“Then it means 5 lakhs for five minutes” said Sam anxiously.
“Wh... What?”
“If you take 60 lakhs for 60 minutes that means for five minutes your fee is five lakhs rupees isn’t it?” said Sam confusing Sameer Khan in his mathematics.
“Yes...but...”
“So it’s a deal. We pay you five lakhs rupees for five minutes for next Tuesday. Done?” said Sam trying to quickly end the deal.
“No no no no no wait wait. I don’t perform for five minutes. You see I am a superstar and I don’t go anywhere for just five minutes. I am a busy man and what will my fan think if I start touring for 5-6 minutes?” grilled Sameer Khan over Sam.
“But Mr Sameer that is the only mistake you do” said Sam cunningly.
“What do you mean?” asked Sameer Khan worryingly.
“If you show up at any place for hours people think that you don’t have enough films in hand. They think you are not in demand, which is ruining your image without even you notice it. But contrastingly if you show up for only five minutes at the stage and then quickly move from there pretending to be very busy in schedules that will raise your value among your fans. It would visualize your tight schedule and hence weight in the industry. Let people think you do not have useless time to spend” said Sam fooling Sameer Khan.
“Really?” asked a stupid Sameer Khan wide opening his eyes.
“Yes I mean just think about it. Have you ever seen bigger superstars coming to any party in time and spending there more than five minutes?” asked Sam as Sameer Khan gazed him like stupid.
“No” replied Sam himself.
“But Mr Vikram Kapoor stayed for half an hour in my birthday party?” asked Sameer khan confusingly.
“That’s because he was a superstar of past and you are the superstar of today. So show your busyness to the entire world,” replied Sam cunningly.
“You are right. He was a superstar and I am a superstar. He was the favourite yesterday I am the favourite today. He was busy yesterday and I am busy today. Sam you got my five minutes next Tuesday at 1 pm” replied the stupidstar.