Unapologetic confessions of a bhakt.
This column is about an election that was… and a Gala that wasn’t. It’s been a week of major hits and misses as Mamata Banerjee’s TMC was convincingly packed off by the marauding BJP, resulting in a poll massacre that nobody saw coming. The numbers! The euphoria! There was last-minute drama as Didi (shocked into disbelief that she was facing defeat in her very lovingly nurtured Bhabanipur constituency) turned up at counting centres and put on a brave face as long as she could to stall the inevitable humiliation that followed.
Amul dairy brand was the fastest off the block to congratulate the jubilant winners with its ‘Taste of Victory’ advertisement. It featured a caricature of Prime Minister Narendra Modi holding a lotus in his right hand and making a V for Victory sign with his left, while the heading for the ad succinctly stated: ‘Bengal Janata Party’. On point!
As for me, I shot a quickie Insta reel commenting on the poll verdict, in which I congratulated the voters, particularly the women of West Bengal, who ironically ousted another woman from her secure perch. Why pretend? I was glad to see Mamata go! Fifteen years of her chaotic, self-centred and autocratic rule had hardened the hearts of her most ardent supporters who used to swear by her in the past.
Meeting Mamata
I cracked up at the memory of my own up close and personal encounter with the strong woman of West Bengal 15 years ago. The Telegraph newspaper assigned me the duty of covering her campaign trail and spending the day travelling with her as she whizzed around Kolkata in a Maruti van, stopping to make thundering speeches whenever she spotted a crowd.
It was fascinating to observe this tiny energy ball breathing fire as she tirelessly zoomed in and out of sleepy villages, taking frequent swigs from a small bottle of cough syrup kept in the glove compartment. At her final stop for the day, a stage had been erected and a sizeable crowd was waiting for her. Seeing the numbers, she insisted that I accompany her on stage, enthusiastically referring to me as the daughter-in-law of Bengal. I played the part and coyly acknowledged the ‘Bouma’ endearment.
We got along just fine – Mamata and me. I like assertive, determined, argumentative, no-nonsense women. I loved how she chastised me for my clumsy Bangla and advised me to work harder on improving my language skills. “Your children must learn Bangla,” she said sternly, as we posed together for photographs. I solemnly promised to go home and take Bangla up as my next project.
A year or so earlier, I had spent some time with Jyoti Basu at the Bengal Club. I was staying there and he was meeting friends in the lounge near the reception. He said he wanted to meet me. I walked into a room filled with reverential men sitting like penitent schoolboys inside a crusty principal’s office. Jyoti babu was sipping cognac from a snifter, and gallantly offered me a drink. Sophisticated, erudite, urbane—the man exuded an unmistakable aura. I became an instant fan girl.
Cough syrup defeated cognac soon after.
Also read: Mamata is a liberal heroine nationally. Ruled Bengal with corruption & thuggery
Let a thousand lotuses bloom
The reel I posted after the TMC thrashing on Monday quoted PM Modi saying a lotus has bloomed in West Bengal. I added, “Let a thousand lotuses bloom.” West Bengal needs to bloom, after enduring the arid landscape over decades of neglect. Unfortunately, for all her initial fervour and passionate promises of restoring the state to its old glory, Mamata soon got sidetracked and turned into one more pedestrian politician — uncaring and saddled with corruption allegations. Ruthless and disingenuous. Anyone was better than Didi. Even the BJP. That’s the sum total of my reel.
I was instantly trolled.
“See…. I always knew she was a closet Bhakt,” was just one of the comments that was gleefully circulated. Having been called far worse names in the past, I was least bothered. I wanted to retort — yes, of course I am a bona fide, card-holding bhakt. A bhakt of my own beliefs, which do not waver. Never have. But I told myself: jaaney do. Not worth clarifying to mulish critics. Only a narrow-minded idiot would resort to mean-spirited pettiness by not acknowledging a historic win.
Nothing can alter the statistics of this significant election. The fact is, the voters of Bengal ruled supreme. They demonstrated fairly and democratically what they want for their welfare and progress. Nobody has the right to challenge the unalterable narrative, the shift in power, the new political order. I have consistently supported the power of citizens to determine their fate. If that makes me a bhakt – hey, go ahead. After being labelled a ‘presstitute’, “chudail”, “libtard” and “Pakistani agent”, a “closet bhakt” sounds charming!
The over-rated Met Gala is over
Hey Bhagwan…. Looking at images of desis strutting their stuff on the red carpet at this year’s super flop Met Gala, I felt embarrassed. Why? Why do we crave and grovel and demand validation from this conceited bunch? The West only has to whistle, and we go running! Like hungry puppies chasing a bone. Nobody got it on point this year! Forgot to read the memo, folks?
The over-rated, over-priced stylists got so carried away, they couldn’t see beyond Raja Ravi Verma images… and no, the question of subtly slipping those timeless images into a memorable vision was asking for too much! Easier to just plaster them on… and bingo! An instant tribute to Indian art appears on that carpet!
When all else fails, hang some local fruits, vegetables and baubles on the wearer and call it a ‘statement’. Such a shame the gorgeous Jaipur royals Gauravi Kumari and Padmanabh Singh also got it so wrong, given their impeccable personal style and legacy. Did Pacho have to turn up in an ill-fitting, oversized Rajasthani dressing gown? And Gauravi… why such a wishy-washy, done to death draped saree with pearls? What if the siblings had displayed enough confidence to proudly wear their state’s spectacular poshak as ‘Living Art’, a fashion tradition that has flourished through centuries?
Oh well… The Met Gala 2026 has been declared officially over. Sold to the highest bidder. It’s a good thing the smartest Met Gala regulars like Priyanka Chopra decided to skip this year’s tacky, cut-rate Amazon Gala, leaving the carpet to thirsty wannabes with money but no taste.
Shobhaa De is an author, columnist, social commentator, and opinion-shaper. She has written 20 books. She tweets @DeShobhaa. Views are personal.
(Edited by Prashant Dixit)