So Bangladesh has begun a trial against Hasina for mass murder. My first reaction? “Wait, wasn’t she in power just a few months ago?” And then it hit me—this is the new game in town. Not politics, not democracy, not elections, but revenge matches. Forget “building a better tomorrow,” it’s all about “destroying yesterday.”
Let me explain: democracy, as we once knew it, was a game—tough, sometimes dirty, but with rules. You win an election, you shake hands with the loser, and then you get to work. These days? You win, you shake fists, and then you dig up every file, every photograph, every suspicious paani-puri receipt from 1997, and scream treason!
It’s no longer “I will show I’m better than you,” but “I will show that you were worse than me, so by default, I win.” And we, the electorate, the commoners, are expected to cheer from the stands as this mud-wrestling match plays out on national television, preferably during prime time, with a ticker that reads “BREAKING: Nation Shocked!”
And don’t think this is exclusive to Bangladesh. Just a short hop across the border, and we find a familiar pattern playing out here in our own desi backyard. You would think with so many potholes to fill, rivers to clean, children to educate, and women to protect, our netas would be too busy to be stuck in the past. But no. Apparently, the real enemy is not poverty or pollution, but Pandit Nehru, who’s been dead for 60 years.
Every day, we’re told what a disaster he was. And just when you think they’ve exhausted the list of Nehru sins, someone finds an old photo of him standing next to someone wearing a cap and says, “Aha! Proof he was secretly… insert conspiracy here.”
But here’s a little whisper to the power-hungry politicians of today: if your vision for the future requires the constant vilification of the past, maybe it’s your present that’s lacking.
Take Gandhiji—there’s a man who fought an empire without weapons, walked miles in sandals, spun his own cloth, and still managed to change the world. Today, if he tried to enter politics, he’d be arrested under suspicion of ‘disrupting peace with his silence.’
It’s like watching a football match where, instead of scoring goals, one team keeps arguing about the referee from the 1952 tournament. “He was biased, that’s why we lost!” Yes, but the ball is on the field now. Play!
Learning to play fair isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength. When you’re confident in your game, you don’t need to trip the other side. You don’t need to rewrite the scorecard from ten seasons ago.
So to all those who just won power, whether in Dhaka, Delhi, or Dindigul—play on. But play fair. Stop witch hunting and start building the nation. That’s what leaders do, right?
