A question for Mayawati

The setting is perfect—the town where the BSP first opened its account in Uttar Pradesh, way back in 1989, and which went to the polls today. ‘‘We celebrated that victory in a big way,’’ says Bodhchari, recalling that heady day. ‘‘It was the first step towards reaching our mission goals. It gave us a toe-hold in UP and we haven’t looked back since.’’

But Bodhchari is not being totally honest. Somewhere down the line, many ‘‘mission workers’’ like him have looked back, to remind themselves about their mission and reassure each other that it will all get back on track again.

Introspection in the Konch office began after the 2001 assembly elections, when the BSP lost three of the four seats in the constituency. ‘‘We gave tickets to Thakurs last time and that had a negative impact,’’ explains Bodhichari, desperately trying to find the right words to explain the decision. Other, younger workers come to his rescue and mouth Mayawati’s explanation about not being against ‘‘good, honest upper caste candidates’’.

Bodhchari looks out of the window, staring blankly at the congested traffic that tries to disentangle itself on the narrow road below. ‘‘We used to campaign on foot those days,’’ he says suddenly, cutting short the monologue of a co-worker. ‘‘The luckier ones had cycles. Today our leaders zip around in cars. Things change, not always for the better. For us, the biggest change has been our surging self-esteem, but I don’t think it is going to be enough in the long run.’’

A few kilometres away, in Paniyara village, 21-year-old Jasram Chaudhary agrees with Bodhchari and touches on an issue that may eventually be the BSP’s greatest challenge. As a weapon, caste is losing its edge and the party needs other issues to rally its supporters.

‘‘Look, in all my 21 years, I have never faced any discrimination, I’ve only heard stories from my grandparents. Of course I am enraged by what they went through, but I also see other things,’’ says Jasram. ‘‘Unfortunately as a voter I don’t have an option. Will the BJP or the Congress ever believe that I could vote for them?’’

His neighbour Kanhaiya Lal adds: ‘‘The BSP gave us our self-respect, but now we need more. There are no jobs here. Our people go to cities and sell pakodas and kulfi. But despite all that, even if the BSP doesn’t do anything, they will win. That’s how things are.’’

And the BSP’s sitting MP and candidate, Brij Lal Khabri, knows this. ‘‘Sometimes, although rarely, people do ask me about roads and drains,’’ he admits. ‘‘I ask them if that is why they sent me to Parliament, to solve these minor things. I tell them that voting for the BSP is about being proud of themselves, nothing else. Roads will keep getting made.’’

Khabri also knows that the big house he has built himself, the fancy rings he sports or the controversy of his SDM wife being barred from campaigning for him will all get nullified on polling day. So he flaunts everything. And the people living in ‘mini-Punjab’, where diesel engines work non-stop, have learnt to live with it.

Back in Konch, away from Khabri, Bodhchari and Dalit politics, a desolate platform waits for some action. ‘‘We run three bogie shuttle trains along the 13-km rail line to Ait, which is a link station for the main line to Jhansi,’’ says Station Master R.K. Dubey. Normally very little happens here and there are rumours that this loss-making shuttle could be stopped.

‘‘It is the only thing that keeps Konch connected to the rest of the world after the last bus at 8 pm,’’ says STD booth owner R. Talwar dramatically. ‘‘We are going to fight to keep it going.’’

Unfortunately for Konch, like bijli, sadak and pani, this doesn’t make it to the political battleground either.