Forget the old board game that provided hours of exciting entertainment, we have entered the age of far more deadly trysts with destiny. The poisonous creatures have suddenly come alive and started hissing, displaying the forked tongue. The rickety ladders placed on an uneven playing field are useless. Reptilian leaders with different political markings are writhing, preparing for mortal combat in a democratic jungle, spewing venom.
Mallikarjun Kharge is not known for intemperate language, but it seems that in the heat of an electoral battle, even he isn’t immune to ‘slip of the tongue’. Allegedly, he called the PM a poisonous snake, but when he found that this was likely to cause more damage to the Congress, he chose discretion over valour and hastily retracted, explaining that he was referring not to Mr Modi but to the BJP’s toxic ideology.
It’s common to accuse the media of quoting out of context or distorting the statement to create sensational headlines, but this can’t be explained away so easily or cited as another case of loss in translation. The BJP was quick to retaliate with a stinging ‘snakebite’ calling out Sonia Gandhi as a vishkanya. The millennial generation of Indians isn’t aware of all the mythological riches we are inheritors. Flipping over pages of Amar Chitrakatha comics, lovingly crafted by Uncle Pai, isn’t part of their childhood memories. Hence vishkanya is most likely to be treated as a word of abuse.
In our myths and legends, snakes are semi-divine creatures not necessarily to be feared, but worthy of worship. At the top of the heap is Sheshnag or Anant who provides the celestial bed on ksheer sagar, on which Lord Vishnu reposes with his consort Mahalaxmi. Lakshman in treta yug and Balram in dwapar yug are considered his incarnations. Why should it surprise us that in the Age of Kali, great leaders or their devotees claim them to be the latest incarnation? But surely this wasn’t the intention of Kharge sahib to remind us of.
It’s not only Vishnu Bhagwan who has close ties with noble snake. Mahadev Shiva wears a garland of snakes, symbolising how the supreme being has to accept poison as a part of life. He is known a Nagnath, Nageshwar, Vishapayi and Neelkanth. Would anyone dare commit sacrilege by treating Shiva’s snakes as toxic creatures to be abhorred?
When samudra manthan—the churning of the ocean—was organised, it was a great serpent who offered his services to be used as a gigantic rope to facilitate the endeavour. The puranik legends and folklore are replete with tales of benevolent snakes who grant wishes, guard riches and are worthy of obeisance. In many parts of the country, snakes are ritually worshipped on Nag Panchami.
Enough about snakes. Time to return to leaders. Why single out the BJP for nourishing the brood of reptiles with bowls of milk following the dictum—payah panam bhujnganam kevalam vish vardhnam (feeding snakes with milk only makes them more venomous)? Baahubalis or musclemen with criminal credentials in all parties are strutting the stage all the time like deadly snakes wearing naag mani, a priceless gem adorning the diadem. From now-deceased Atiq Ahmed to recently released Anand Mohan, the list is a long one of those who have left colour-changing chameleons far behind and can opportunistically assume any form like the ichhadhari nagin (lethal female snake) of fantastic folktales.
There is an old Hindi saying: Chandan vish vyaape nahin, lipate rahen bhujang (sandalwood remains unharmed and harmless even when girdled by deadly snakes). Times have changed. Powerful leaders can consume all the sandalwood that has survived smuggling, but the fragrance of chandan eludes them.
King Cobra (Nagraj), we are told, is a shy and retiring creature. It doesn’t attack till provoked and made to feel threatened. It’s quite a content feeding on smaller snakes—read small-time dispensable sidekicks in case of political leaders—and displaying its harmlessness when held fearlessly by godmen, powerful patron-protectors.
All said and little done, it would be wise to leave the handling of snakes to experts—scientists like Romulus Whitaker or tribal snake-catchers who have acquired intimate knowledge of reptilian ways over generations.
Leaders belong to a different species. The time has come to stop being mesmerised by their seductive snake dances. The clarinet mimicking a snake-charmer’s been in the Hindi film, Nagin, and Waheeda Rahman’s spellbinding number in Guide have their place on the silver screen, not in the political arena in the largest and, according to some, the oldest democracy in the world.
What is urgently required is the defanging of criminal politicians regardless of their present or past political affiliations. Remember this has to be an ongoing process as fangs tend to regrow. An innocuous worm can transform itself into a terrifying monster as King Parikshit learnt. When a naag turns rogue like the villain Kaliya, he has to be subdued by a saviour of the people like Krishna.
Pushpesh Pant
Former professor, Jawaharlal Nehru University
pushpeshpant@gmail.com