“Oh dear,” I whispered as the news came in, “the antinationals have won!”

A gentleman sitting beside me nearly dropped his teacup. “Which border have they crossed?” he asked. “Should I hide under the bed? Should I forward patriotic messages on WhatsApp?”

“No,” I said. “It is much worse. The government has accepted the demands of the protesting youth!”

He stared at me. “But weren’t those youngsters called troublemakers, cockroaches, urban Naxalites and antinationals?”

“Exactly,” I replied as I marched to the window and shook my fist in the direction of Delhi, “It means the government has surrendered to the enemy!”

“Surrendered to the enemy who laid siege to those brave rulers in Jantar Mantar?” he asked trembling with fear.

I don’t blame my imaginary gentleman his fear. Because, oh what a confusing country we have become.

A student asks why examination papers are leaking and he becomes an antinational. A journalist asks who leaked them and she becomes an urban Naxalite. A parent asks why his child studied night and day while somebody else bought the answers, and immediately a television panel assembles to investigate whether the parent secretly hates India.

But now the government has accepted the students’ demands, promised reforms and watched the education minister resign.

So, who was working against the nation?

Could it possibly be those in power, who allowed the examination system to become a marketplace?

Could it be those who protected their chairs while students lost years, hopes and sometimes their lives?

Could it be those who treated questions as rebellion and accountability as treason?

My frightened friend leaned closer. “Then who is the actual Pappu?”

I looked around carefully. “Perhaps Pappu was never sitting in the Opposition. Perhaps Pappu is the one sitting on a throne, imagining that democracy meant everybody clapping while he spoke.”

The real fool in a democracy is not the person who asks questions. It is the leader who believes questions can be silenced with barricades, batons, internet shutdowns and colourful labels.

It is the politician who thinks an elected chair has suddenly transformed into a divine throne.

It is the party that believes buying, bribing or blackmailing opposing representatives is clever politics and not an assault on the people’s vote.

The youth have shown us something extraordinary. Armour that looked impenetrable has cracked. Arrogance that appeared permanent has blinked. Power that pretended never to listen has heard.

But this victory cannot belong only to the young. They have made the first opening. The rest of us, who have been branded antinationals, by the antinationals,  must now walk through it.

We must question every paper leak, every stolen mandate, every silenced journalist and every attempt to divide citizens into patriots and traitors.

Yes, the so called antinationals have won.

And democracy, smiling quietly behind them, whispers, “March on dear Antinationals..!”

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