Justice When Convenient, Principles When Profitable

From Nagavalli-style theatrics to selective outrage, the Cockroach Janata Party (CJP) seem determined to turn constitutional protest into an ideological dance-off.

Many of us have watched Apthamitra or Akshay Kumar’s Bhool Bhulaiyaa, where Ganga slowly transforms into the formidable Nagavalli. Well, it appears our CJP protestors are undergoing a transformation of their own! Like Nagavalli lifting a bed to demonstrate her supernatural strength, these Convenient Justice Pleaders have lifted their legs and taken to the streets for a marathon in the name of democracy. And they simply refuse to stop. What tireless runners, these champions of convenience, sprinting along the capital’s roads as though a newly spotted car were an irresistible invitation for a street dog to mark its territory.

Their ever-enthusiastic fellow travellers cheer them on, day and night: “Hu ha! Hu ha!” What spectacle, what solidarity, what entertainment! Nagavalli, darling, you have competition!

Like Nagavalli, who dances tirelessly for her soulmate, our CJP protestors seem equally tireless in their own choreography - a soul-selling performance, desperately soliciting regime change. Nagavalli summoned Ramanathan; these performers appear to be summoning the entire system - the judiciary, legislature, and executive - to witness their grand spectacle. And surely, no performance is complete without an international audience! Perhaps they await Elon Musk, George Soros, Marxists, communists, and the imagined architects of the anti-India deep state to witness their extraordinary expertise. What dedication, what drama! Nagavalli danced for her soulmate; these Convenient Justice Pleaders dance for regime change.

Disco Democracy

In Apthamitra, Nagavalli’s dance was enough to frighten everyone around her. Our CJP dancers, however, appear determined to make the entire constitutional machinery break into a nervous sweat. And what a grand Avahana for their maiden performance—not from a fellow dancer, but from the police themselves, who reportedly went all the way to the airport to facilitate their entry into the capital. Yet, when it came to the sequel, the ghungroos encountered a little trouble. Their steps were restricted beyond Jantar Mantar. From an airport welcome to a designated stage, what a dramatic change in choreography.

Nagavalli summoned her soulmate; our Convenient Justice Pleaders, meanwhile, appear to have summoned an entire army of uncritical cheerleaders to applaud their every step. From the first act’s grand welcome to the second act’s restricted stage, the choreography has changed, but the chorus remains the same.

In the maiden performance, our star dancer Neha Bora seemingly stole the show from the organisers themselves! The patriarchal performers—Abhijeet Dipke, Ashutosh Ranka, and Sourav Das—could hardly compete with the street-theatre energy of their leading lady. Alas, even the most energetic choreography can become boring when the same steps are repeated endlessly. But Neha refuses to lower the curtain. Inspired, perhaps, by fellow performers in Bangla and France, she has apparently decided to add a skull to the props.

One wonders whether this endless performance is meant to fill the audience’s heads with ideas—or merely demonstrate how much empty space a skull can accommodate. Wah wah, Neha ji! The ghungroos keep jingling, even when the script begs for an interval.

After the grand success of their first performance, our dancers went on to perform their next act: School Theek Karo! But it seems the people of Rajasthan showed them a mirror and asked them, “Pehle khud ke skull theek karo!” And like Nagavalli, who was rather choosy about her soulmate, our CJP dancers are equally choosy about their stages. They perform with extraordinary enthusiasm, lifting their legs and displaying their full choreography in BJP-ruled states, while seemingly covering their steps in states ruled by the AAP, Congress, and others.

Even Ganga knew when Nagavalli had taken over her soul, yet continued to conceal the truth. Our CJP dancers, too, seem adept at greeting inconvenient truths with convenient denials! Dipke Bhai’s Delhi performance reportedly featured police assistance, a chair beside the police, and later denials.

Ideological Ballet

Neha Bora’s Jink Chak, Jink Chak deserves its own fact-check. Were Bangla’s dancers protesting religious fundamentalism or fighting over reservations? And who directs this ideological ballet? Prakash Raj, the alleged choreographer? With Bhushana—the latest ornament—joining the troupe, the ensemble grows grander. Now the dancers openly explain why they lift their legs: apparently, they want everyone to see what lies within.

The stench of this endless performance is becoming impossible to ignore. How long must constitutional institutions hold their noses? We Bharatiyas will not applaud street theatrics masquerading as justice while undermining an elected system. If these dancers seek ideological soulmates, let them reunite with their fellow performers in Bangladesh or France. I urge the authorities to investigate their intentions through lawful scrutiny. Just as exorcism drives away evil spirits, constitutional vigilance must expose deception through evidence and due process. Democracy is no dance floor for those who would undermine its foundations. No encore without accountability.

(The writer is a Bengaluru-based author and scholar. Views personal.)