On the eve of Bengal’s decisive phase, certainty is the only thing in abundant supply. Victory, it appears, has already been claimed – twice over.
On one side, Amit Shah steps into Kolkata’s Behala with a promise that stretches beyond polling day. Vote without fear, he says – the Central Reserve Police Force is already everywhere, and will remain for 60 days, even after a BJP victory. It is both assurance and assertion: law and order will not merely be restored; it will be supervised, extended, and guaranteed.
On the other hand, Mamata Banerjee signs off her campaign with a flourish that borders on arithmetic certainty. ‘One hundred seats already secured in the first phase, she declares. The rest is a matter of voter goodwill – and that goodwill, she suggests, will deliver a comfortable two-thirds majority for the All India Trinamool Congress. Between these two claims lies not a contest, but a theatre of conviction.
Bold faces, final pitches
Election campaigns, especially in their dying hours, are less about persuasion and more about projection. Doubt is a luxury no candidate can afford on the last day. Certainly, even if manufactured, it becomes a campaign tool.
Amit Shah’s extension of CRPF presence is not merely administrative foresight – it is a signal aimed at voters wary of local strongmen and booth-level intimidation. The message is simple: the Centre is watching, and will continue to watch.
Mamata’s numbers, on the other hand, serve a different purpose. They are not just predictions; they are morale boosters. To claim 100 seats out of 152 already is to suggest inevitability. It tells the cadre that the battle is as good as won, and tells the fence-sitter which way the wind is blowing. Both strategies converge on a single objective – confidence as currency.
The astrology detour
And then, just as the political rhetoric peaks, the astrologers arrive. In a country where elections are often analysed with psephology charts, caste matrices, and swing percentages, there is always room for celestial consultation. This time, the stars have been unusually vocal.
Some predict a BJP surge – marginal or massive – based on the alignment of planets with the birth charts of Prime Minister Narendra Modi and the party itself. Others hedge their bets, forecasting a narrow win for Mamata, but only as a prelude to instability – a temporary tenure that eventually cedes ground to the BJP in a mid-term poll.
The method, however, is where the comedy lies. Dates are borrowed, assumptions are stretched, and in the case of Mamata, even her birth details remain elusive. Undeterred, predictions are built on conjecture, party ‘birthdays’, and a generous reading of planetary goodwill. It is an analysis by approximation, conviction without coordinates.
The voter’s quiet verdict
Lost in this crescendo of claims and constellations is the one variable that refuses to be scripted – the voter.
The Bengali electorate, seasoned and often unpredictable, has a habit of defying neat narratives. It has swung, stalled, and surprised in equal measure over the decades. Neither loud assertions nor whispered astrological forecasts have ever quite managed to capture its intent in real time. Which is why the present certainty, on all sides, carries a faint echo of performance.
Before the bite
There is an old Telugu saying – తినబోతూ రుచులెందుకు? [tinabutu ruchulenduku] – why ask how it tastes before you take a bite? The closest English equivalent is ‘the proof of the pudding is the eating’.
Bengal’s political chefs have already declared their dishes a success. The critics have begun writing reviews. The astrologers have read the menu in the stars. But the meal, as always, will only be judged once it is served.
By tomorrow evening, exit polls will begin their cautious storytelling. And by May 4, the numbers will strip away the rhetoric, leaving behind a verdict that belongs neither to confidence nor to conjecture. Until then, Bengal waits – quietly, and with far less certainty than those who claim to speak for it.
