Monday, October 26, 2009

A Rather Insignificant Episode

There are fifteen posters of XYZ, amma, said my 8 year son as we walked down the railway platform. He had been counting the posters of XYZ, the candidate for the legislative assembly, pasted on the pillars of the platform.

Who is he?

He is the candidate for the assembly election that’s coming soon.

Why are there so many posters?

People should know that he is standing for the election, and he is the candidate for that party.
Thus, on that railway platform, my son got his first lecture on the democratic process. He seemed to be quite fascinated by it. Questions followed and I answered to the best of my ability in a language and manner that a child could understand.

Will XYZ win, amma?

I don’t know, son .

Will you vote for him.

My vote is not here. I ‘ll vote from my hometown where the candidate is different.

If you had a vote from here, would you vote for XYZ?

I don’t know, math.

You must vote for him , amma, if you have a vote from here.

Why, math?

Because I like him. There are fifteen posters in this railway platform
. I decided not to challenge his illogical logic.

The passenger train came and we got in. The compartment was crowded, so we stood between the two doors, leaning against the back of the seat.

At the next stop, some people got down and so we could sit. Passengers started boarding. Suddenly, my son started shouting at the top of his voice. He was pointing to someone and shouting repeatedly Amma amma there’s XYZ Amma amma there’s XYZ. And to my surprise, he was right. There stood XYZ in the space we had vacated, looking at my son, mighty pleased and surprised.

Then he inched his way towards us and ruffled my son’s hair and asked me How does he know me?

I don’t know whether it was the sycophant in me or a sense of mischief that made me say Who doesn’t know you, Mr XYZ?

Oh the guy was simply delighted! He seemed to grow in height like Eddy Murphy in the Nutty Professor and his grin grew wider and wider that I found myself thinking that if not for his ears, his grin would go right round his head (not my original – read it somewhere).

Needless to say, my son’s day was made, but he was heartbroken when XYZ got a trouncing at the hustings. After that XYZ went out of his life.

As for Mr. XYZ, he subsequently left his parent party and joined the rival party after being denied ticket during the next election. Today he occupies an important position and right now is in the middle of a controversy.

I’m naming no names :-)


  1. you need'nt name any names...!!!!!
    a nice post, though.....

  2. wonderful post..and your son's interest in politics hasn't diminished a bit.

  3. You're such a tease, Kochuthresiamma. Now I will be eternally curious as to who Mr.XYZ is!

  4. beware sujatha, you know what curiosity does to accidental bloggers logo -he he.
    am sure some blog visitor will come up with the name. quite obvious actually

    anon 1 & 2

  5. Cherian Philip
    Just to help Sujatha:)

  6. Cherian is better than most others....

  7. @ anonymous 2.
    thought it'd be you, jen. who else can know my son's political inclinations?

  8. It is true, KPJ. Everyone knows Cherian Philip. I too liked him when I was of your son's age in the story mentioned herein.


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