I felt a gentle current but missed the wave

You don't have to rub it in but I admit I got the Indian election figures wrong. I'm still trying to figure out why. So what if my assessment, gleaned from the mood on the ground, was faulty? I remain defiant, unbowed and true to the cause of 'independent' journalism.
I sensed a gentle 'current' in favour of the ruling party of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi when I hit the campaign trail in North India early this month but missed the wave of support for the Indian prime minister.
The quirks of democracy can be unfair to a Non-Resident Indian journalist yet I soaked in the invigorating experience that sparked my political (and creative) interest on the road to Delhi. It was liberating, it was inspiring, it made me whole again.
There was a sense of accomplishment through the rush of adrenaline. I am grateful for the experience.
Now to the other pressing matter on hand. How did I flunk the prediction test? I remember telling everyone and his uncle who cared to listen that the ruling party and allies would struggle to get past 220 seats. But the voters had other ideas as the results show. They wanted a stable government, they wanted continuity and not messy regional coalitions. They saw a larger role for themselves as global Indians.
They aspired, they voted with gusto and they got Narendra Modi, a strongman-democrat (he handsomely won the numbers game, didn't he?).
I said this during a Facebook live chat this morning - saffron socialism will come of age during Modi's second term. I am parroting it again because there is nothing more profound to say as Indian voters rejoice the rise and rise of a tea-seller. If a chaiwallah can make it to the PM's chair, why can't we? they ask.
India has moved from being a servile socialist democracy to a truly majoritarian one that loves the aura of a strong leader. The numbers add up even if the 56-inch chest makes no sense.
Perhaps the country had had an overdose of liberal socialism. Under the old system served up by dynasts of the Gandhi family, democracy had failed the common man and woman.
This campaign for was an eye-opener of sorts. They didn't call the poor poor anymore. The ruling elite simply trampled over their sorry plight and wrote them off as the downtrodden. India's democracy may be the largest in the world but it is also deeply flawed and backward when it comes to people and their right to basic amenities - where the rich prosper and the poor remain stuck in ghettos where time stands still. I saw communities living in conditions unfit for humans - with open drains on the periphery, garbage mounds in the middle, the stench of faeces and urine all around. It left me speechless. I refused food the whole day - my silent protest in support of their right to well-being. There was little else I could do. Social transformation for these people remains a far cry while rich activists and rights groups tom-tom about the pathetic state of affairs.
I threw tough questions to both the ruling class and the governed and drew answers tailor-made for me which may have hidden layers of truth. A leading politician spoke of the BJP getting seats in "single-digits". Last heard, he was busy licking his wounds after his party's disastrous single-digit performance.
I travelled to Amethi where the Gandhi lad deservedly lost to his combative opponent Smriti Irani of the BJP. It appeared to me that the Gandhis had taken the voters in their fiefdom for granted over five decades of decadence. To my credit, I got that prediction right - some consolation for losing my way with other winners. Smriti earned her spurs through sheer dint of hard work while Rahul Gandhi strayed from his family's cause.
In Varanasi, I met with defiance. A rickshaw- puller showed me how to stand up to elected authority represented by the towering persona of Narendra Modi. The man was seething, he was stranded at the bottom of the social and economic ladder despite years of toil. "I won't vote for Modi," he spat out and gnashed his teeth.
Negative energy, I told myself as I took a boat ride to purify myself of that stained emotion. I thought I felt a gentle current on the River Ganga. Maybe that's why I missed the Modi wave.
- allan@khaleejtimes.com