25 The Muslim Prime Minister: India awakes
“Sir…”
“…Who?”
“Me, Faizan…”
“…Hah Faizan, my ace of trump, I was expecting you” he said trying to life himself up.
“Relax sir. Everything’s under control now. Situations are finer now and there’s no war going to happen in distant future. Everything’s fine now”
“(Smiling happily) Yes it is for you are there for everything now” he said as he coughed. I gave him water but he was anxious to speak something to me. “When I had first seen you, you were a miserable person living a hard time of one’s life. But then I also had witnessed a fighter inside you who would never give up before any sort of challenge put forward to him. I knew there’s a leader inside you. I always knew. The only thing required was to bring that ‘leader’ out…”
“You think I am a hero. Believe me I am a jerk. I had almost called a nuclear war with China. I still believe…”
“Faizan…the wisdom you lack would come along with the experience. But the experience would come only if you dare to hold the responsibility. There’s one thing you need to understand. Bad times are part of every man’s life which at the end leaves us with a choice. If you chose to quit you lose. But if you chose to fight you prevail some day and become great leader because no matter how bad the time may be, always remember, it will pass someday. That’s the way the almighty makes you worthy of something”.
I wanted to refuse and return him the crown but he already knew I would, and hence he was prepared for it. His condition was declining very quickly. He almost begged me not to quit and held my hands to swear that I will never back down from the responsibilities he had put on my shoulders.
“…you once asked me why do I favour you so much despite you being a novice in politics. Faizan I always knew I won’t live longer. I had to protect these powers from falling into wrong hands. And then I found you, invested my time and my belief in you to prepare only for this day. Don’t spoil my investment, my faith in you, please I beg. Everything that happens with us happens for some reason. Destiny never makes wrong decision. And now it has given you this opportunity and that too would have some reasons. Don’t deny it…”
‘Don’t deny it’. That’s what he said and left us alone in this world forever. The meeting was rendezvous again. No one ever came to know about our last conversations and hence his last desires. I had made a promise to a dying man and did not have courage to betray him after his death. Once again I was left with the same question- even if I was ready, the question was are ‘they’ ready?
Two days later his cremation the same question started arising that who would head the nation now. There were differences in the opinions about it, which ultimately led to division of the party into two groups. One believed that I should continue my services as the Prime Minister while the other group strictly favoured Bhanu Pratap Singh, the then Home Minister as well as the Deputy Prime Minister of the nation, and in many ways much eligible person than me to sit on the prime seat. An advocate by profession B.P Singh was known for his wisdom and discipline. He had a 40 years long political career and hence one of the most experienced and senior leader in the party. Equipped with all kinds of necessary political skills; a born leader and a political tycoon, he was certainly the favourite candidate not only in the party but also among a large group of the people. Known as ‘Invincible’ in the team he had never lost a political battle in his life ever. And I don’t know whether I should say this or not but with me being the opposite candidate the biggest advantage that he had on me was that he was a ‘Hindu’. And the only negative fact about him was various allegations on him for a number of cases of corruptions and scams. Hence in all together I merely stood a chance against him.
Although it was my fight I merely participated in it. They were the godfathers of the party and I just could not argue with them, for the sake of courtesy. It was not shyness but respect. Moreover, it had never been my personality to indulge into an argument. Hence I kept myself isolated from such scraps. However, some of the senior ministers backed my candidature for the sake of the last wish of the former Prime Minister. The days used to be quite tensed and full of chaos. There was desperation in general people too about their next leader and hence the environment was warm with the possibilities of outbreak of protests. Once when I had asked Aarti whom would she vote (me or B.P Singh) if she were not my wife. She simply replied that even if I were her enemy she would have voted me because it was the matter of whole country and it was a known fact that along with B.P Singh come a number of scams and corruption, eventually stymieing the development process of the nation. She further added that it’s not only my test but even a tougher test for the people of this country who had to this time make a choice between religion and country. However, after a number of debates, argument and a long wait it was nearly decided by the core committee that B.P Singh would be the next Prime Minister. I had lost in the number game and had been voted out by a ‘team’ of ministers who sided with B.P Singh, eventually losing by a big margin. Further, the dates were released for the official announcement of making him the next Prime Minister of the nation.
On the day of the announcement a press meeting was called on. Some of the senior members who were against that decision had boycotted the meeting. I was present there and even congratulated B.P Singh for his achievement. Everything was going fine as expected and finer it could have went if vacuous B.P Singh had kept his emotions under control. In the meeting he spoke something that was irrelevant in a ‘literate’ and ‘secular’ India. This is an excerpt of what he actually said-
“… and I am proud of the decision of the party that they understood the fact that we cannot trust a ‘Muslim’ to head the nation…”
As soon as these words slipped off his tongue, he knew he has himself dropped the ‘captaincy’. But it was too late for him to erase his mistake as the faces of the people, even the ‘friendly’ ministers turned shocked. Their eyes had wide opened as if saying-‘How dare you?’ Nothing happened instantly. Perhaps there was a complete silence in the vicinity. But the silence was a signal of a storm. And its resulting turmoil was just a matter of time.
I was too present there when he said that. But I did not react. I stood there like a statue with tears in my eyes. I could not feel myself. When the meeting was over the media wanted to know my reaction and they focused their cameras on me. I didn’t say a word but tears in my eyes had said it all. And the people had seen it live on the camera. They became sympathetic with the disrespect, the grief I had received. The only thing left was its consequence.
In few moments the best day of B.P Singh’s life turned into a nightmare when the nation observed a widespread protest against him. People burnt his photos and idols which further caused havoc in almost all the parts of the country. The situation turned uncontrollable when people came with burning pile of woods and bonfires to set B.P Singh on fire alive. Thanks to riot control police and fire brigades nothing serious happened like that. But it clearly revealed the picture of public rage over B.P Singh. Many of them were arrested, many brutally attacked. But they did not stop. A nation had awaked. These protestors did not belong to any particular community. They were neither Hindus nor Muslim. They were Indians. Most of them youths.
Nevertheless, the outrage of the people was not freezing down and the situation became irrepressible. Meanwhile the media added more fuel to their rage while the opposition demanded a quick resignation from B.P Singh. The party members who were once standing tall with him eventually sided from him. Pressure from people and declining support of the party members led B.P Singh to finally decline from his prime ministerial candidature. However, even his declination brought no significant change in the outrage which threatened the equilibrium of the coalition government. Consequently, a sudden meeting was therefore called in haste, with the allies included. Fate of the nation was locked behind those doors. I was asked to wait outside but could hear harsh & loud voices coming from the other side of the door.
“It is the demand of the hour that Faizan Khan must be promoted to the prime ministerial post. Can’t you see the outrage out there? We have elections of six major states in two months. We can’t take chances…” said Y.N Lal, an MP in favour of me.
“That doesn’t mean you will do anything you want. You want to make Faizan Khan Prime Minister? He is a dummy; knows nothing of politics. Besides he’s always been an aloof. How can we trust him?” said B.P Singh, who was alone struggling to save his career, dignity.
“Faizan khan isn’t a new face in politics now. His track record’s been miraculous. Moreover, he was chosen by Surya Pratap himself…” said Sujata Singh, another senior MP.
“…chosen under hostile circumstances. He was an accidental Prime Minister…” said B.P Singh cutting him in between.
“…even if we agree you, you’ll have to agree that he did his job spectacularly. And who are you to call him ‘PM by chance’? He lifted the responsibility when most of us, including you B.P Singh, had declined to Surya’s offer…” said Arvind Shrivastav, a cabinet minister.
“I don’t deny and I regret it every day. But what he did was not miracle but simply luck…” replied B.P Singh.
Ashraf Khan, the party head was listening calmly till yet. He had not interfered till yet. But now his patience had brimmed up and so he interfered, “Miracles and luck have a strong causality between them Bhanu, something that you need to understand. At the end of the day history will remember him as the savior irrespective of how he saved the nation from economic crisis. Its time you show some wisdom and make a sacrifice for the sake of the future of this party…”
“Ashraf, you too? You too with him?” he asked shockedly.
“I’m with the time my dear old friend…with the time” he replied gently.
“Huh! Then perhaps there is no more argument left and discussion ends right here” he said pathetically, harassed with the happenings. Others tried to convince him but he did not listen. “Go forth. What you wait for? But as you go accept my resignation letter coz I can’t work under his government. I quit from politics…” he said and left instantly and encountered me as he opened the door. With a strong staring look he left from there. Later a press conference was held to ‘do the rest’.
Ashraf Khan acknowledged the nation with the party’s decision of paving my way for the ‘prime’ role.
“A leader is never born but made. Made through a long process of struggle, sacrifices, perseverance and firm determination. Sometimes, in some people, these skills are hidden and it comes out only inadvertently. Today we’ve witnessed one such leader who was always in front of our eyes yet hidden in the crowd. At a time when the nation had reached an impasse with the negotiations with the Chinese government and war looked to be a certain event he jumped into the scene like a savior and remained proactive when others were perplexed, to expunge any such possibility of war and thus extricated the nation from falling into economic crisis ensuring the sovereignty and dignity of the country to be intact” he said as people chanted my name. “Ladies & gentlemen, without taking more of your time, it is my pleasure to endorse (he paused momentarily)… Faizan Ahmed Khan as the next Prime Minister of India” said Ashraf khan followed by an instant applaud from the public.
The year was 2047, also the 100th year of the independence. It was the day when I had to swear the oath. I had waked up very early in the morning although still under the blanket; my eyes were full of memories of past life; and every breath had emotional warmth. It was a different morning. A morning that had come after a very long night. Later, when I was getting ready I could feel weight on my shoulders. That weight determined the gravity, the importance of the day in my life. I was nervous. I was tense. But I was ready. And soon the moment came when I was standing amidst the MPs and it was all set to start the procedures. And as per the protocols, when the respective President said the oath and when I repeated it, I lived every moment of it, and dedicated the moment to my father. And as the swearing part completed history had been created. I was declared the Prime Minister of the largest democracy. The only thing left was to address those people who had weaved the day. As I reached the stage my feet trembled, and I hesitated. But soon the fear was gone when I spotted a very familiar face amidst an alien crowd. Aarti was present in the front row and she made some eye gestures as if saying ‘This is your day. Just live it’.
“When I first sworn in as the prime Minister, some of them called me ‘Muslim’ Prime Minister…” I said as people booed instantly. “They said it is a country full of Hindus, Muslims, Ups, Biharis, Marathis etc., and you don’t stand a chance. But today as I stand on this platform in the shoes of a Prime Minister I can look straight into their eyes and say that you are wrong. This country belonged to Indians, belongs to Indians and will always belong to Indians” people applauded with strong claps as I said further. “I am proud to be a Muslim. I’ve always been. But we need to understand something that when it comes to choose between country and religion, always country comes first” people cheer again. “I got a lot of people to thank to make this day a reality. To make the impossible possible. I dedicate this day to the man who first believed me that I can do it even before I did, Mr. Surya Dev Shankar (crowd cheered)… To my wife Aarti (crowd cheer again while she smiled in response). You must’ve heard a saying that behind every man’s success there’s a woman. In my case the woman is none other than my wife herself. I’m also thankful to my friends who made it possible for me. Those who provided the impetus to my political career-Zeeshan, Sam and Rameshwar.” A name clicked my memory as I paused in sentiments. A tinge of emotion- a raw nerve was touched and then I continued in a heavy voice, “… to my father who would be so proud today. I kept my promise… Abbu” I said as I sobbed with choking short breaths. Zeeshan watched me dolefully as his eyes too sparked with tears. “…and at last to you people who backed me when I needed you most. Ladies & gentlemen, on this very day I swear that Faizan Ahmed Khan will be committed to the people, by the people and for the people. Thank you very much…”
It was my best speech in that time. Aarti was the happiest person to witness it from me. Later when we met we talked about it in solitary.
“…pretty nice speech” she said after we found some solitary for ourselves.
“Yep…thanks to you” I replied as she smiled in response. She turned a little shy. So, I asked her, “ Aarti, Why are you shying? Tell me what is it…”
“I wanted to tell you something…” she said as she turned a little shy.
“What is it?” I asked her curiously.
“Not like this…I feel shy. Come close and lend me your ear” she urged me.
“What? Why?” I asked anxiously but she stared me strongly. “OK Don’t be angry…say what is it?” I said coming closer to her. She folded her hands near my ear and whispered-
“I am pregnant…”
The moment she said this...you know I was…I couldn’t believe my ears. I begged her to say those words again and again.
“Faizan… You are about to become a father” she said joyously.
For a moment there was complete silence in the vicinity. I wanted to live this moment as much as possible. It was the moment of my life. I was overwhelmed, simply carried away by emotions. So much that the ecstasy of becoming a father had choked my throat and I could not speak a word out of contentment. Only a drop of tear from my eyes to express my bliss, my happiness. And Aarti could read them in my eyes.
No matter how dark and stormy the night may be, the next morning is always and equivalently fresh and full of life. The night of my life was over and the morning was brighter than I had expected. I had rediscovered my happiness. She had given me my ‘family’ back. I held her firmly and kissed her. Kissed her passionately to live my moment… to live my ‘morning’.
“Excuse me …sir”
Unfortunately, a man had breached our solitary and we had to postpone our ‘romance’.
“Hmmm…” I said as we left Aarti at a distance.
“Sir… Taliban has posted a new video and...”
“…and?”
“…his commander has congratulated you for your victory addressing you as ‘Brother’…”
I was shocked as he said it, completely speechless by words I watched him with wide eyes. I knew a new challenge was waiting for me to deal with. Meanwhile, Aarti suddenly appeared between us and asked, “Faizan what happened? Who has congratulated you? I didn’t hear…”
I gestured the man to leave and held her in my arms, sighed, and said, “No one…just your ‘brother in law’ has remembered me…”
To be cont.….