In the latest installment of Kejriwal Productions, Arvind Kejriwal found himself in the middle of a “life-threatening” attack—at least, according to his party’s scriptwriters. During a ‘padayatra’ in Greater Kailash, a man approached Kejriwal and tossed some liquid from a glass. Cue the outrage: AAP leaders immediately declared it an attempt to set their leader ablaze. Let that sink in.
Every major news channel aired the footage. What did it show? A man casually walking up, smiling, and tossing what appeared to be water. Kejriwal, unfazed, kept smiling. But before the police could even determine if the liquid was water, kerosene, or Kejriwal’s favourite cologne, AAP leader Saurabh Bharadwaj was already holding a press conference, claiming it was a murder attempt.
If the liquid was truly flammable, shouldn’t Kejriwal have reacted differently? Maybe alerted the police? Maybe handed over his coat for forensic testing? Instead, he simply wiped it off and carried on, like someone who just walked through a sprinkler. Suspicious, isn’t it?
Let’s talk about the media’s role in all this. Instead of fact-checking or, at the very least, sniffing around to verify whether the liquid had a whiff of kerosene, they jumped straight to sensationalism. Isn’t it their job to investigate before amplifying political theatrics? Or has journalism become a PR wing for political drama queens?
Staged attacks aren’t new. Remember the infamous “knife attack” on former Andhra Pradesh CM N.T. Rama Rao? Spoiler alert: It turned out to be a publicity stunt. Kejriwal seems to be borrowing from the same playbook, perhaps sensing that public sentiment is slipping. When politicians feel cornered, they don’t fight harder—they act harder.
The timing is suspicious, too. After suffering setbacks in the recent polls, Kejriwal and his party seem jittery. The BJP is riding high, sweeping Haryana and Maharashtra and making gains in bypolls across Uttar Pradesh. Meanwhile, AAP’s top leaders are busy juggling bail conditions and corruption charges. Not exactly the poster children for “honest politics.”
The writing on the wall is clear: Kejriwal’s political capital is dwindling. His once-heroic narrative of the “common man’s saviour” has crumbled into a cautionary tale of unmet promises and corruption scandals.
This spectacle isn’t about safety; it’s about sympathy. With state elections around the corner, Kejriwal needs a boost. But voters aren’t as gullible as AAP might hope. The electorate, especially in Delhi, has seen through the charade. Kejriwal’s fall from grace—from “honest crusader” to “desperate stuntman”—is hard to ignore.
If history is any guide, these theatrics rarely work. Voters prefer action over acting. Kejriwal’s antics might earn him a few headlines, but not necessarily votes. Delhiites, once charmed by his idealism, now seem weary of his drama.
In the end, Kejriwal’s “liquid attack” may go down as just another overhyped episode in a long-running political soap opera. But if AAP thinks this is the way to win elections, they might want to rethink their script.
After all, there’s only so much “drama” even an audience of millions can endure.
