There is always a ‘minder’ around Pooja Naidu, councillor of Ward 18 in Kharagpur Sadar. This muscled hanger-on seems to have been appointed by her husband, Srini Naidu, to check her answers and remind the interviewer who is in charge.
Srini is known around these parts as a ‘don’, a title he loathes and flaunts in turns. Pooja is easy to like. The 26-year-old has a quick smile and is eager to talk of her work and her “public”, as she calls her voters. I’d expected a guarded cynic, because the media has not been kind to her. She was first referred to as wife of a “don” and then as a turn-cloak, who won the 2015 municipal poll on a BJP ticket and then defected to TMC. This election, she is campaigning for the constituency’s TMC candidate.
She does not believe in party affiliations anymore. “Public votes for the work you do,” she says. “It does not matter what symbol is on your flag. I know that.” Her minder steps in when she falters with her answers or seems to have stepped on political banana-peel.
Pooja swats him away. “It is my interview,” she says. “I’ll give the answers.” Later, Srini tells me he “let her” handle the interview because he wants her to learn politics. “Otherwise, I would’ve met you,” he says.
“I was never interested in politics,” she says. Her political life started in 2015 when her husband faced bitter disappointment. “He had helped the previous councillor win by campaigning with him door-to-door. But, after winning, the councillor did not do anything for the ward.” Srini too believes he who won the previous candidate the election. “I can make anyone win here,” he says.
He decided to take matters into his own hands and make his wife win. But it was not easy getting the ticket, says Pooja. “The BJP leaders here asked us for Rs 10 lakh.” Instead of paying them, Srini travelled to Delhi and claims to have got the ticket from there. It didn’t make matters easier for Pooja. “None of the BJP leaders here cooperated,” she says.
“People were pulling our posters down and no one would help organise rallies or campaigns,” she says, trying to explain why she made the controversial switch to TMC. A BJP worker says the ticket was given for money or for “goondagiri”.
“I was a fan of Narendra Modi,” she says. “Today I know parties and leaders only care about winning.”
Her voters seem happy with her. It is not an easy ward to manage as it is one of the seven railway wards. Railway wards are jointly managed by Railways and the municipality, but the latter has little power. “They tell us to keep the place clean,” says Pooja. The rest of it — roads, power, water and development of land — is managed by the central government entity. People are unhappy with the railway administration. Pooja held rallies against railway apathy and even filed a case. A woman, feeding her grandchild, says that before Pooja there were power cuts for days. “Today it is maybe two or three hours a day.” Another man says there are fewer thefts now. “I think they have appointed a night watchman here,” he says. “We can now safely leave our bicycles outside our homes.”
Pooja arranged a free ambulance service and water tanker to supply the area. “We have Ward No 18 written on it,” says Pooja, proudly. She even pays the school fees of 484 children here. But how does she manage the money? The central government and municipality funds would be insufficient. It would total Rs 11 lakh, in Pooja’s own words. She rushes to Srini for an answer. She claims it is from her husband and mother’s central government job. But I look sceptical. Srini calls me into his office — inside the ward councillor’s office. “What do you want to know?” he asks, mildly confrontational. He first says he is a real-estate broker and makes money from the business. Then, he drops that story, and takes on a challenging tone. “I don’t have a penny to my name,” he says. “My bank account will show Rs 2 crore in debt. But don’t ask how me who financed it.” He is smiling now.
“I drive an Audi that costs Rs 35 lakh,” he says. “But can income tax penalise me for it? No, because it is in my friend’s name. He lets me drive it around. My friend has a Rs 2 crore-turnover business.”
“The gold I wear will cost Rs 7 lakh,” says Srini, pointing to his earrings, chain, bracelet and rings. “I bought it with donations.” He is laughing now. “Next month, I’ll have a Rs 85 lakh Audi.” The defiance worries Pooja. “Please stop,” she says. “But I am only telling the truth,” says he.
In a few months, a movie produced by Pooja will be out. Srini is playing the lead. “Donations,” he says.
There is an awkward silence and he quickly says, “We have big plans for New Settlement. I treat this like my own now. We will have roads, street lights and even an arch that will announce its name.” He sounds proud. There is an ostentatious Kali temple he has built for the ward. “It cost Rs 50 lakh,” he says.
“He doesn’t spend Rs 1,000 on the household provisions,” says Pooja, looking a bit downcast. “My mother manages the household expenses. Everything he makes from the business goes into the ward.”
Reluctant politician
Pooja’s table looks businesslike with the usual officious trinkets — a globe, diary and a newspaper. But, for the interview, she pulls two chairs and waits for the conversation to start, like we are friends about to discuss a movie. “I was interested in politics,” she says.
2015 was the year Pooja took the plunge, after a candidate propped up by her husband Srini, the don, didn’t do anything for the ward. Srini decided to take matters into his hands and field Pooja
