The republic of fizz

In the dusty and endearingly chaotic plains of the north lies a little oasis. Well-built young men patrol its perimeter, barricading its precincts against terrorist and trespasser. Its inhabitants maintain an equally unwavering vigil against discomfort and disease. In Parliament no threats are brooked. In this abiding pursuit, Lok Sabha members have been quick to respond to a study highlighting traces of toxic pesticides in aerated drinks sold by multinationals like PepsiCo and Coca-Cola. Brimful of concern about the implications for cola-guzzling citizens, our elected representatives sought an impromptu discussion and urgent measures. After waxing indignant on MNCs’ duplicitous standards in globalised times and on the need for stringent standards for water used in fizzy drinks, they produced an instant solution. They banned these beverages from Parliament House.

Phew! Our MPs are cocooned in their uncontaminated patch of paradise, the danger of them unthinkingly reaching out for a chilled cocktail of caffeine and pesticide has passed, all’s well with the world! This is not to suggest that a study presented this week by an NGO highlighting toxins in soft drinks does not merit Parliament’s outrage. It does, most certainly. The potability of beverages of mass consumption must engage anyone with any pretensions of guarding the people’s interests, administrator and parliamentarian alike. It is just that the attitude and procedure adopted are worrisome. They once again give depressing proof of MPs’ shoddy and self-obsessed approach to their duties as elected representatives. Whether it be drought or calamity, corporate malpractice or national security, their strategy rarely varies. Make sure that the delicately tiled domes of Parliament resound with professions of anger and piety, and then recommend instant solutions tailored to personal needs. Subject over.

In the aftermath of last year’s drought, this meant invoking the suffering of farmers throughout the land, and then simply seeking subsidy for just one’s own constituents, with nary a debate on administrative reform. During the Iraq war it meant suspending all parliamentary work, to indulge in myopic grandstanding and tailor parliamentary resolutions to political expediency, not national interest. And now amidst reports of lax water quality norms, they hush scheduled discussions on unemployment, shout the House down, then plump for a shortcut: A ban on consumption of the offensive drinks in the House, not reform in testing procedures that would benefit folks far and wide. Perhaps MPs need to be reminded that their mandate extends beyond the leafy environs of Raisina Hill.