Storm in the T-Cup

A Storm in the T-cup

The headlines of Telangana caught my attention as I picked up the newspaper early in the morning and sat in my balcony with a hot cup of tea.   By that time Mr. and Mrs. Rao, sitting in the balcony adjacent to mine, would have already finished their tea and would have scanned through the entire paper.  A quick exchange of pleasantries has been a morning ritual for us for past many years.  This morning though the scene was a bit different.  The two were immersed in the newspaper and did not even look up.  There was little conversation between them as well.

When I met Mr. Rao in my office bus, I wished him good day and realized that his charming smile was missing.  On further probe, I realized that the news of Andhra bifurcation had caused a wide crack in his life as well.  Mr. Rao hailed from Hyderabad and Mrs. Rao was from Vijayawada.  The news had created an emotional split in the family.  Suddenly, Mrs. Rao was feeling as if she was an outsider in this house.  She had emotionally broken down.  A good part of her life was spent growing up in Hyderabad and now she had to let that go.

The half-course dinner that Mr. Rao had last night, was the last meal that he had in the last 12 hours.  The kitchen went fireless this morning as the lady herself was on fire.  He did not even get his lunch box. She made Rao feel like being the main culprit in this episode.  As if he was the one heading the group of ministers. Yes, he did belong to the Telangana region but that did not take away his love for Andhra.  Suddenly, his 20-year old marriage became an ‘Inter-state’ alliance. His domicile status changed. He was worried about the small piece of land that he had bought in Vijayawada – if that would be called ‘illegally owned by other state person’; Mrs. Rao on the other hand, was worried about the Godavari water flow into the fertile lands of the remaining portion of her amputated  home-state.  One had personal concerns and the other had larger interests in mind.

Mr. Rao was also equally upset. He never thought his Tirupati Balaji would move to another state.  His favourite beach in Vishakhapatnam would shift to another province.  And then he realized that his brother in Hyderabad worked for the department of tourism. Will they close down his office -for there will be very little tourism left in the new state  -  or will he have to go through the agony of shifting his loyalties to another state government? And he consoled himself – his misery was of a much lower dimension compared to that of his brother.

I was not sure if this Andhra storm will weaken soon.  Being sympathetic to Rao, I decided to invite him over dinner, so that the poor man gets at least one square meal for the day.  He was happy to accept the proposal. And reason? Say, my birthday, I replied.  I knew this storm might hit my state, my family and me any day now.  This was a new tool of politics that could be reused like a ‘library function’. I wanted to be proactive and secure my dinner as a return favour from Rao, in case of any such eventuality.