One of my favourite grandma tales I heard during my vacations as a 5 year old was that of - The cave frog. As all good stories would start this one too started with “Once upon a time…
Once upon a time there lived a frog in a deep dark cave in the corner of a jungle. The frog lived in a colony of other smaller creatures which thrived on the pond formed perennial drops of water dripping from the crack in the caves ceiling. What set this frog apart was his sheer size and loud crocks. It was only a matter of time before he was crowned the king of the pond. His passion for his people and his just behavior soon made him popular amongst his subjects. Soon enough the now King Frog had the urge to expand his reign. Soon he set out in search other ponds within the cave and beyond for he knew that he as the strongest creature he had ever seen.
A day into his leap and jump journey into the cave, he came across strange creature hanging from the ceiling of the cave, there were blind but flew without bumping into anything as he crocked. He came across small creature which looked tiny and helpless but were fatally venomous. Few days after he had started he finally came to a place where there was no darkness; this alien land was filled with large creatures who could stomp his little frame into dust. Over the period of next few days he roamed through the jungle learning the way of the alien land, where lions ruled the jungle not by power, but by dynasty. Much larger elephants and giraffes feared the large mane animal, he saw ponds which were larger than his entire cave and seemed to have no end at all. The creatures in those ponds were large reptiles with massive jaws and teeth.
Convinced that there is little space for him to rule this land filled with killer claws, giant jaws and thick skins the frog went back to his dark dingy cave pond, to spend the rest of his life ruling the people that loved him and dreaming of ruling the alien land he visited every now and again.
The way I heard this story 20 years ago made me feel cozy and comforted helping me slide off to sleep listening to the frogs return to a life with his loved ones. But as I retrospect on the story, I have a completely different perspective on the moral of the story. The frog’s failure to adapt to the circumstances/ respond to the change in surrounding and a catastrophe of ambitions of the amphibian creature has a contradictory effect on my sleep.
On a more practical note, one might compare the story to that of Maharashtra’s politburos who have not tried staking their claim on the Delhi throne since the battle at Panipath. A barrage of bureaucrats and officials flood the government machinery from this western state of India, leaders like Yashwantrao Chavan, Shankarao Chavan have played an important part in assisting the governing of the republic. There is a widespread perception of language barrier being detrimental to the chances of the Shivaji inheritor’s incapability of hoisting the Maratha flag in the PMO. Maharashtra Sadan on the junction of Copernicus road in Delhi is an important source of power for any ruling party in the Lok Sabha, but the through the years, Delhi ‘Taqat’ has been able to keep the Maratha strongmen to act as second fiddle.
We could easily measure up the Maharashtra political scenario to our beloved frog story as Political stalwarts from the region have always enjoyed monopolized majority in their constituencies, making safe heavens for their parties or the Oceanic grandeur of the All India Congress Committee.
Marathi (by Marathi I mean everyone residing in Maharashtra) Members of Lok Sabha from the AICC who are fortunate enough to make it to the list of the few who occupy portfolios in the government functionary always seem to loose their way. The unceremonious sacking of Shivraj Patil during one of India’s worst terror attacks or the power crisis faced during smiling Minister Shri. Sushil Kumar Shinde’s tenure are just a few such examples. Employees, Employers, professionals, leaders, academicians etc. etc. from Maharashtra have always found it difficult to find a place which houses India.
Maharashtra came close to shattering this physiological block of the ‘Delhi mirage’ when the Maratha strongman from Baramati almost got the better of the UPA alliance in the 2004 elections. As a youth leader Mr. Pawar once had the opportunity to meet the Iron man of Indian Industry Mr. J.R. D Tata.
JRD used the following sentence to describe the young politician –
“One day, this young boy will become the Prime Minister of India”
2009 elections showcase a contrast result to rising image of NCP and with it the hopes of Maharashtra’s claim on the epitome of power in India. However, the new cabinet included 4 members of parliament from Maharashtra, which reiterates the state’s importance in the nation’s ‘power’ equation, pun intended. What is in store for the people of Western Ghats, called ‘Ghaties’ is a mystery which only time will solve.
What increases my curiosity is a question that popped into my brain as I sat down with this subject, is it Marathi that cannot handle Delhi or is it Delhi that cannot handle Marathi. Either ways the city of that is the heart of the Indian republic is elusive to the Marathi.
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