At a village remotest and out-of-the-way, Sheikhpara, in a fine morning, the widow of a landless daily laborer belonging to a particular Muslim community declared as backward by the government, waked up hearing a call from somebody just to see that very person right in the centre of her home-yard still unclean and almost snoozed. The name of the widow lady is Zarina Sheikh and her unending struggle with poverty was continuing at the stake of the future of her only child – Sabir.
Zarina could recall the day she met an election candidate few weeks back when the contestant had been on campaign. Zarina was told the man was a celebrity and a person of work and integrity. She heard this election-candidate was a high-profile officer and had put a thief politician of Bihar behind the bar. Thus, Zarina was convinced this man, if elected, would work, wouldn’t make money and thirdly -- what was more important to her – would teach a lesson to the corrupt political leaders of her locality.
Zarina was felicitated by the election candidate at that time but she hadn’t become moved by the hearty attitude of him as it had been the general impression on the politicians that they could do everything before elections and did nothing after elections. However, Zarina voted for the man and he won and became a cabinet-minister. All these happened within a very short span of time and Zarina went back to her normal life as usual. She had hardly any time or scope to think over the election-results and she had no reason to expect anything too.
Therefore, Zarina, naturally, became amazed to see that cabinet-minister at his home-yard on that very morning. She was yet to leave her bed and the minister had reached at her place! Zarina came to know later that the minister reached at his electoral constituency at previous night for the first time after becoming the minister. He waited for that night and at the earliest hour of the next morning the minister had rushed for his first destination: Sheikhpara.
What was his second place to visit? From the shack of a widow of backward Muslim community, he headed towards a tribal village: Kujarbaghi. They are his electorate, they are the marginal people. He noted down the name of Zarina and her son during his hectic campaign-time and soon after his election he inquired about the mouza of his constituency with highest tribal population. It was Kujarbaghi.
Why the minister went there or what did he do there is immaterial. At least, he came. He remembered the people ,that’s all. He did beyond expectations and nobody wanted more.
Leaders had hardly any time to feel the motive of the minister. They saw no reason to visit the home of one unimportant Zarina or to go that Kujarbaghi. The question of them is: why Kujarbaghi? They rather feel insulted to wait in a queue behind one Zarina to have the minister. They did believe that it is the leaders who had made the person minister not that Zarina or those bloody tribal people of Kujarbaghi. They campaigned for vote; they were stranded near the poling-booth on election-day; they wrote the election-graffiti, they manipulated the election-process and that Zarina or the people of Kujarbaghi did only cast their vote, that’s all.
The minister was indomitable. His activities were intolerable to the leaders. They called him “non-political”. Their politics, equally, was unacceptable to the minister. His politics was for the people – especially for the marginal people, for the indigenous people like the tribal of Kujarbaghi. He was uncompromising as far as this point is concerned. He was ready to be a loner, but not to be a man of such politics which was the “last resort of the scoundrels”.
