Wall pollution has begun

But, what beats us is why the very first thing that the politicians prefer to write on the walls is: "The character of our brother is as pure as a flower (amar bhaier charitra, phooler moto pabitra)." Now, one may ask: Why should the question of your brother's character be raised in the first place? Is there something wrong about it? Is there a dark and sinister past that you want to cover behind those words? If not, then why bother to shout so loudly about how pure it is? And who is interested to know about the character of your brother in the first place? Why should the voters be interested in his character? Have they fallen at his feet to persuade him to contest the election? Who is he by the way?

Yes, who is he, brother? I have never seen him before in any social gathering, you may wonder aloud. Before you have an answer, the boundary walls of your house will be covered with posters of unknown faces claiming to be the retina, the "apple of your eye (nayaner moni!)." Good Lord! We are already having myriad problems with our eyes. Who wants those unknown guys to mess with our eyesight any further?

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And before you can ask some respectable elders in the locality about the identity and background of those faces on the posters, you will hear your doorbell ringing. Your Man Friday will come in and report that some unknown men have come to exchange greetings. No, he has not seen them before. The very term "unknown men" sends shivers down the spine these days. Reluctantly, you go to the front room. A dark, tall and overweight man, profusely sweating, extends his hands to you introducing himself as the ring leader of the locality, who is dying to serve the people after getting elected in the next election.

"Why after, why not now?" you say in a soft voice, forcing a funny smile on your face. There is a round of guffaws that you hardly can join in. The young men behind the tall man try to look inside your living room through the half closed door behind you.

Your Man Friday quickly closes it. The men leave only after you have promised them your precious vote for him. You go inside wondering: "Who is he anyway? What is the source of his money?"

Your afternoon sleep will be disturbed regularly from this point onwards with the sound of microphones, band parties and vehicles roaming noisily on the roads in a bid to drive home the message of the good character of the brother, the retina of the people. There is every chance that from that day onwards you will often bump into the man in the local shops, and definitely in the local mosque. And every time you meet him, he will grab your hand with his two sweaty hands and squeeze your palm mightily, calling you "bhaisaab (big brother)."

This is how the politicians and their cadres have been operating in this country following an ancient recipe of public relations. Soft intimidation is the name of the game. Yes, sir. In many ways you will notice that they have a way of imposing themselves on you. If they cannot get to you, piercing your thick armour of conscience, they will get to you through your close friends or brothers or nephews. There is no way you can get off the merry-go-round. Those circus clowns are a dangerous lot who are ready to do anything to get the votes of your entire family.

You see, they have to come to power. They have to undo what you have done so painstakingly, working so hard throughout the years. You are the one who has been going to the factory at eight in the morning and returning home at twelve at night. You are the one who has to run from one bank to another in search of a loan to meet the export deadline. You are the one who has to return the bank loan with interest to avoid going to jail. You are the one who has to pay income tax and submit the return in time to avoid getting arrested. But it is they, the unknown faces, who never have to bother about all these. It is they who will ultimately grab power and set terms for you. They will win in the end and you are the one who will always get defeated, and stay defeated.

It is a never-ending story in this country. But is there no way out? Can't we change and improve the system? A pertinent question at the most pertinent time. We are in the know of good attempts that are being made by various civil society groups to create awareness about such unknown faces seeking your vote, dishing out false promises of development. But the professional politicians are opposing such moves for obvious reasons. They do not want anything to improve the rotten environment since they feel comfortable to do politics in such a system.

Therefore, it will require a renaissance, a revolution, and a bloody one perhaps, to rid our society of the present lot of marauders who go about wearing the tag of "politician" on their chests. They have no dignity and no self-respect. They have got to be replaced by honest and conscientious people who will salvage from the dirt our lost pride, self-respect, and honour.

Shahnoor Wahid is a Senior Assistant Editor of The Daily Star.