From corridors of power | Of plastic poll pitch, RC challenge and warring boys

The Opposition, naturally, is having a field day poking fun at Mann’s plastic bag stardom. One cannot help but recall the days when Mann himself, then in the Opposition, used to roast other leaders for stamping their pictures on everything from benches to bowls. Before coming to power in Punjab, Mann would often thunder in his speeches: let their names remain on utensils, but throw them out of power. Such is the irony. Punjab once even forfeited a central grant because former CM Parkash Singh Badal’s photographs adorned ambulances while the Centre was run by a different political party. So much for cleansing politics. Different time, different party, and yet the same Punjab, and the same fondness for photo ops. Some habits, it seems, are bipartisan.

Stay away from RC

Equations change faster than files move in Punjab government offices. The latest whisper doing the rounds is a quiet but firm diktat to sections of the bureaucracy: anything remotely linked to Raghav Chadha is to be handled with extreme caution, or better still, not at all. Not too long ago, Chadha was widely seen as the “super CM”, the man whose word travelled faster than official notifications and whose presence loomed large over key decisions. Bureaucrats knew which way the wind blew, and many adjusted their sails accordingly. They called on him, reached out to him for transfers. Today, the winds have shifted.

The same corridors now carry a different message: distance is advisable. Files once fast-tracked are now approached with caution, and the once-familiar influence appears to have thinned. From being at the centre of decision-making to becoming a name best avoided in official conversations, politics has a way of turning tables with ruthless efficiency.

No snacks, just sermons

The venue said it all before a word was spoken. When Chief Minister Bhagwant Mann summoned AAP MLAs to the Punjab Armed Police Complex, it was never going to be about pleasantries, savouries, or sweets. What followed, insiders say, was essentially a monologue. The CM, clearly in no mood for niceties, is learnt to have given his legislators a firm reminder that perceptions matter, and so does public conduct, as he asked them to mind their behaviour.

The setting only amplified the message. Away from the Chief Minister’s residence in Chandigarh, the stark, uniformed backdrop underlined the seriousness of the moment. Several MLAs reportedly emerged looking as though they had just sat through an unscheduled exam. One of them summed up the mood rather candidly: “I am still shaken. I didn’t even stop  my car for nearly 50 kilometres after leaving Jalandhar, not even for using conveniences. It felt like the CM could get some MLAs arrested right there.”

Of warring schoolboys in a tiny school of Chandigarh 

Meanwhile, an elite school in Chandigarh, better known for designer sneakers and whispered fee comparisons, briefly turned into a boxing ring last week. A strapping son of a key Punjab Congress leader went too far when he thrashed the son of a Haryana legal heavyweight. What followed was less about school discipline and more about power play. Phones rang, messages flew, and influence asserted itself before the matter was said to be settled.

The school authorities maintained that the issue was “internal” and “resolved amicably.” In such polished institutions, even a scuffle comes with a diplomatic ending and a discreet curtain call. One assumes the lesson landed somewhere: either in restraint, or in understanding just how far a powerful surname travels. Next time, perhaps keep it civil, a cricket match, maybe. Bruises there rarely need confidentiality clauses.