By Suresh Unnithan
Oh, India’s glorious democracy! Where the humble voter anoints leaders as selfless servants of the nation. And what do these saints do? Bend over backwards to serve… themselves and their darling cronies, while treating the aam aadmi like an ATM that dispenses votes and taxes. Their one true religion? Power worship. Morning puja, evening aarti—all dedicated to the almighty kursi.
Exhibit A in this divine comedy: Poor Sunetra Pawar, tragically widowed when hubby Ajit crashes his plane on January 28, 2026. Nation weeps, flags at half-mast, three whole days of “mourning.” Touching, right? Wrong! By January 31, she’s gleefully swearing in as Deputy CM—Maharashtra’s “pioneering” first woman in the gig. Aww, “preserving the family legacy,” they coo. Legacy of what—grief-skipping? Tears barely dry, oath already taken. Because nothing says “devastated widow” like lunging for the deputy throne before the funeral pyre cools. Power: the ultimate antidepressant. Who needs therapy when you’ve got red beacons?
And this isn’t some rare devotional frenzy—it’s the daily ritual:
Ajit Pawar, the scam-whisperer: Fingered in a cheeky ₹70,000 crore irrigation “mystery,” yet boldly splits his uncle’s party in 2023 to cuddle up to the big boys. Probes? Pfft, mere mosquito bites when you’ve got MLA herds to barter.
Eknath Shinde, the resort revolutionary: Backstabs Uddhav like a soap opera villain, kidnaps MLAs to Guwahati’s finest hotels (taxpayer-funded vacation, anyone?), and voilà—CM crown snatched. Balasaheb Thackeray spins in his grave; Shinde admires his new chair’s upholstery.
Himanta Biswa Sarma, the defection diva: Flees Congress with baggage of allegations, pirouettes into BJP arms, and abracadabra—Assam CM and Northeast’s self-appointed maharaja. Old sins? Magically absolved by the holy dip in saffron waters.
The Grand Defection Mela: Congresswallahs to BJP, TMC turncoats to BJP—sudden “epiphanies” about “true development.” Translation: “CBI knocked, so I swapped jerseys for a fat ministry and immunity spa day.” Ideology? That’s for suckers without exit polls.
Parties? Gleeful pimps peddling principles for power brokers. Anti-defection law? A joke with more holes than Swiss cheese—perfect for bulk betrayals.
Behold Indian politics: not public service, but a glittering addiction den where netas mainline authority, overdose on ego, and hallucinate “mandates.” Voters? Just the enablers funding the habit. Keep clapping, folks—or demand rehab for these kursi junkies before democracy flatlines. Namaste!
