Humbled farmer counts his blessings

As a friendly staff ushers you into the waiting room after the ante-room, more Hindu deities watch over you from every nook, corner and table-top. True to the party’s secular’ suffix, there is Infant Jesus blessing you from inside a showcase.

Time stands still.Scheduled meetings get cancelled and rescheduled. To arrive at the propitious campaign route for the day? Or is it merely a problem of mobilising crowds? Banish such blasphemous thoughts.

Soon God’s own man receives you in a vest and dhoti. He underplays his role to test your faith. “I’m not the Chosen One. I’m struggling for a modest target of 30 assembly seats and three in the Lok Sabha.”

“Good crowds don’t mean votes. And no resources. Can’t even raise Rs 50,000 for a Lok Sabha seat!” Siddaramaiah, the former Deputy CM, more than makes up for this damper. “With 100 seats and independents, we’ll rule the state.”

Instead, if the Congress gets a hundred and comes to you for your 30? “That’s hypothetical,” his face lights up as if he has not sighted a brighter hypothetical prospect.

G.S. Suresh, a long-time Congress activist in Tumkur district and a recent Gowda convert, is more candid. He sees his party as a major player in a hung assembly; tilting to the Congress. The NDA is an uncertain mixof incompatible elements and has some 35 rebel candidates in fray, none of whom has been disowned by their parties.

This-43-year old advocate typifies the shifting sands of Karnataka politics — intricately localised and turf sensitive. He is fired by a singular dislike for R L Jalappa. This one time Union minister under Gowda and Gujral switched to the Congress last year and grabbed Suresh’s home base. Who now realises that the real Vokkaliga leader is Deve Gowda; not S M Krishna, the chief of the state Congress. The English Gowda’ frequents five-star joints and hobnobs with film stars. “But the stars will only favour Deve Gowda,” he concludes with a flourish.

Finally, with barely two hours left for the campaign deadline, the leader climbs into the bullet-proof car with the astrologer in tow. As the SPG-run cavalcade rolls out of Bangalore city, the former PM gets into chat mode.

Your manifesto seems like a free mix of Chidambaram and Charan Singh. “It’s a ritual. Who reads manifestoes? Who caresfor the nation?”

“What’s so great about Vajpayee? His strength is the secular disunity.”

“My role? Who am I? I’m not a Gandhi, a JP, a Lohia,….” In the middle of this self-effacing statement he nods off, hands joined in a yogic gesture.

Once we hit the bumpy country road, Gowda emerges from his trance. Every 10 minutes he has to stop to greet the crowds. As the evening wears on, the crowds in hundreds swell. The local campaigners have improvised a human megaphone to bypass the EC restriction on loudspeakers. From a speeding Tata Sumo some 10 youngsters thunder, all at once: “Tractor guruthu!” (The symbol is the tractor).

Channapatna is Gowda country. It is part of the Kanakapura Lok Sabha constituency where son H D Kumaraswamy is contesting and which went to polls on Sunday. But a family friend says “because of cash crunch", Kumaraswamy concentrated more on his assembly constituency, Sathanur.

Gowda too seems to be focusing on the assembly segments. That is why this 67-year-old hasundertaken this harrowing padayatra, motorised though. He drives into the villages and makes some 25 stops in a matter of three hours, takes a few steps towards the gathering and makes his appeal. No hardsell. No hype. “His sheer presence is enough,” says an admirer, “the son of our soil who went on to become PM has paid us a visit. We are honoured and our votes are his.”

The clan gives the chief a touching farewell. An invocation on the nadaswaram in Hindolam — a raga that cuts across the Vindhyas as Malkauns. Their humble farmer is a national leader and he will play a national role, God willing.