Young & old brave heat with PM Modi masks

SUGAULI

: They came in sizes small to medium. Some in tatters. Some in vests and knickers. A few in pant-shirt. Waiting for the small ground to fill up with the roar of chopper blades above, the wait for UP CM Yogi Adityanath in the sweltering

heat

was shortened with the sight of tiny tots to small boys and girls in saffron topis. Some carried the party flag too.


What shone out in the scorching sun was a familiar face. One too many. Modi.

The Prime Minister looked at you from everywhere. His face mask a joy for the wearers out on a Sunday outing. I seek one Modi-masked little fella out. “ Ke aawa taa? (Who’s coming?) Pat comes little Modi’s reply: “Modi”. Modi for the day is Piyush Kumar, a Class Two student at the local Ashirwad Academy. Close by is Vishal, a 9th Class student from a government school. He too is Modi in mask. “I have come with elders from the village. I was given this mask and a flag,” he waves the BJP colours to and fro.

A little away, bigger boys in Modi

masks

are taking selfies. Munna Singh has recently graduated from a Motihari college. “Baithey huey hain...Modi ji ke jeetney ke baad kuchch karengey... Woh jeet jayen, tab naukri ke liye ladengey...par pehley unhey jeetana hai (I’m unemployed. Will do something after Modi’s victory. When he wins, will fight for a job. But first, we must make him win).”

A few women come forward and peer. Ashanti Devi is an agrarian worker. “Jeetabey ke baa..sukh shanty laa (Have to make him win...for peace and happiness),” she says. Who? “Modi-ji”, she says. Another woman nudges Ashanti. Mistaking this reporter for a party worker or government babu probably, she is demanding. “Dhebua deen, ghar deen (Give me money, a house),” she says, insisting, “Anoopia musmat....That’s my name... Note it down.”

The widow from the EBC Mallah caste is not done with yet. “I have not got a house. Ab naa mili ta rauey gharey aa ke rahem (Will come and stay in your house if I don’t get a house now)”. “See how sweat is trickling down your nose on to your pen...When I work with a sickle in hand, I too sweat like this,” she says. The little ones, young unemployed and the poor widow have a common denominator: Modi. Beneath lie adulation, pride and hope.