Even as red ravaged from East to West and North to South leaving bits and pieces of blue in its aftermath, the Harris campaign hung on to eternal hope and the miracle of winning swing states. When the polls started closing with numbers favouring the Republican Party, MSNBC which had cried triumph earlier slowly diffused their rhetoric. Simultaneously FOX jubilantly raised their ante when the mark favouring Trump inched towards 246 and climbing while Harris stood steadfastly at 221. Soon the Swing States started changing from blue to a light pink and then a formidable red. The Electoral College vote edged to the finishing line with only four more votes to go. To put the mood in context, it was like MVP Altuve (Astros Baseball player – God’s gift to Houston) bunting in the 9th inning for the final goal to win the World Series. Or, to put it in a cross reference perspective Rohit Sharma’s Robotic dance when winning the World Cup earlier this year.
Soon, around midnight Trump hit close to the 270 mark, and while most of the media and weary pollsters all but announced a win for the Republicans, diehard stalwarts like Kamala Harris, Taylor Swift and Beyoncé refused to cave in. At 266 and counting with the possibility of winning four swing states, Trump decided he had won, gave a victory speech and partied through the night with his cronies at Mar A Lago. The night dragged on for the Democrats while Kamala tried desperately to get some guidance from her masters, who had gone incommunicado turning their cell phones off, leaving poor KH to hang dry. Meanwhile most of USA waited for the concession speech; even the diehards were like, KH take one for the team, but nope, she was not ready to call it a day.
Image courtesy: newsbytesapp.com
Morning came and with it the laments and euphoria of the Indian community. WhatsApp and Twitter – God’s gift to retirees faced a ruthless onslaught by both Democrat and Republican lovers who went amok casting aspersions on politicians across the globe likening them to reptiles and rodents and in the latter’s case saints and intellectuals. One Asha D wrote she had cried through the night upon hearing of the Democrats’ loss while Bob aka Bhagwan Budhani triumphantly announced how America had finally woken up from the spell cast by the Deep State and Jyoti G with a defeated sigh (conveyed by an emoji) stated, “America is not ready for a female President”. Finally, the much awaited act of acknowledging defeat happened. Harris’ mid-morning televised speech seemed like a last ditch effort to hold on to a fleeing dignity, crucifying herself on a battleground filled with bodies of ‘what if’s and buts’ and the crushing realisation of being used as a patsy, KH conceded without the help of a teleprompter. She had barely left the stage when the cameras turned to a crowd relishing in the pure joy of an unfathomed victory. Prominent among the revellers were the right wing leaning Indian diaspora who along with the mainstream took the smug and high road paved with condescension, delighting in the clean sweep of the Swing States, winning the popular plus the electoral college vote, whilst resisting the urge to slurp the cherry on top – coveted control of the Senate! One, Sheila S clinched the above sentiment in a nutshell “USA has a rightful President in Mr. Trump”. (Inasmuch as this statement may have a depth of meaning, I caution my readers to take it at face value).
In the last couple of days several pundits have provided hindsight on the whys and wherefores of the ensuing bloodbath primarily blaming it on campaign strategy, debate performance and unclear vision. My take, if I might be allowed to discourse on the same platform as the above intellectuals is when you pit a coke toting, stuttering candidate with a nervous laughter to debate a seasoned viper – you have in fact created a recipe for sure defeat. Additionally, when the puppeteers (must for future reference be named SorObInton) gave the boot to Ole Joe they incurred the wrath of Jill. I saw it coming when she went to the voting booth dressed in red, thumbing her nose mouthing ‘kiss my grits’!
