The Election Commission has conferred the status of “national icon” on former Indian cricketer Sachin Tendulkar. For the next three years, he is bound by a contract to spread awareness about the need for greater voter participation in the electoral process.
Though the intention is laudable, ironically it brings back memories of Tendulkar’s lacklustre stint in the Rajya Sabha. It particularly takes me back to the morning of March 15, 2013, in Delhi. It was my first week as a reporter of Parliament. The press gallery of the Upper House was mostly empty. Amidst the mundane announcements, Deputy Chairman P.J Kurien sought the “House’s permission to grant leave” to Tendulkar. Parliament rules stipulate that members’ leave applications are read out during a session and the House decides whether or not to grant permission. Just as the House was about to sing its customary “aye”, Samajwadi Party MP Naresh Agarwal rose unexpectedly to lob a bouncer at the absentee cricketer. “He hardly comes to the House. Why not give him permanent leave?” he joked and the entire House broke into laughter. Leave was granted and Tendulkar went on to complete his unremarkable term without “permanent leave”.
By no means is this an unusual story. But for me, a news reporter, it provided direct evidence of popular anecdotes about him. In fact, a hard-working celebrity parliamentarian is the equivalent of “a man biting a dog”. A galaxy of film stars and cricketers have entered Parliament with very little to show for it.
The 2014 Lok Sabha, in particular, was packed with actors. Hema Malini sat on the Treasury benches among a row of women MPs. But unlike many others, Ms. Malini is a regular in Parliament. Behind her sat the ever-smiling Kirron Kher who would barely keep a straight face. A true actor, Ms. Kher would show a range of expressions, which would capture her feelings of the ongoing debate. In the back benches sat a stoic Paresh Rawal, a study in contrast. On the Opposition benches sat Bengali actor Moon Moon Sen. Malayalam actor Innocent too sat there, his eyes continuously scanning the floor of Parliament. And even when the House was fairly peaceful, his eyes would sparkle with delight as though he was cracking a private joke. But it was the pandemonium that he revelled in. The moment his colleagues would begin agitating over a serious issue, he would tell them in Malayalam “Chaadno (Should I jump)?” pointing at the well of the House.
In the Rajya Sabha, Jaya Bachchan has represented the film industry for long. But unlike many of her colleagues from tinsel town, she goes to Parliament regularly and participates in all the debates. She is also the resident Santa Claus. In her capacious brown bag, she carries chocolates and mints and distributes them regularly to members of all parties.
In the 2019 Lok Sabha, two Trinamool Congress MPs, Nusrat Jahan and Mimi Chakraborty, increase the glamour quotient whenever they attend Parliament, which, barring the first session, has been rare. Similarly, Sunny Deol, a Lok Sabha MP, has only occasionally been seen. Both the Houses have had a fair share of cricketers. In the Rajya Sabha, Harbajhan Singh, an AAP MP from Punjab, dresses sharply, but struggles with parliamentary practices. His colleagues handhold him through the tough overs.
Journalists patrol the corridors in search of news stories. Occasionally this also means that we get to overhear interesting conversations. In July 2019, the Opposition and Treasury benches were arguing about the Triple Talaq Bill. Both sides were pulling out all the stops to ensure that they had the numbers. Full attendance was essential. I overheard a Union Minister chiding a national athlete who was a nominated member in the Upper House. He told her that she must be present for the voting. The athlete, who was not in a position to retort, walked off. While Tendulkar had the option of taking leave at will, she apparently did not.
