If a man wears a raincoat in the middle of May and walks around under a blazing sun expecting a downpour, people would call him insane.
If another guy steps out wearing a helmet despite not riding a motorcycle, not playing cricket, and not working at a construction site, the diagnosis would be equally obvious. Either he has received a divine warning of falling coconuts or he is rehearsing for a political drama.
Enter Abhishek Banerjee, the bhaipo of Mamata Banerjee. The Trinamool Congress heir apparent emerged in Sonarpur wearing a helmet while moving through a crowd. Moments later came the eggs, shoes, and assorted projectiles. The sequence was so perfectly choreographed that even Bollywood action directors would have asked for a second take.
The obvious question is: who carries a helmet to a political visit unless he expects a shower from above?
The great Bengal egg festival
The projectiles of choice were eggs. Not bricks or iron rods or cricket balls. Not even the traditional political stone. Eggs.
The women who confronted him appeared remarkably prepared for the occasion. Had they brought onions and tomatoes as well, Bengal could have hosted a roadside omelette festival.
Fortunately for the MP, his head remained protected from the devastating impact of poultry products. The eggs did exactly what eggs are supposed to do. They broke, they dripped, they decorated. The helmet survived. The eggs did not survive to hatch.
One shudders to imagine what would have happened if genuine attackers had arrived carrying stones instead of breakfast ingredients. The white shirt drenched in yolk might have been soaked in something far more serious.
Pishi school of political theatre
There is a long and distinguished tradition in Bengal politics of converting injury into electoral currency.
For years, every election season seemed to produce images of Mamata Banerjee appearing with a bandaged leg, an injured arm or a carefully wrapped foot. Whether coincidence or political fortune, the victim narrative often yielded sympathy and votes.
The student appears to have learned from the master. Only this time the timing is different. The Trinamool Congress is no longer the ruling party. The political tables have turned. The once-invincible party finds itself confronting the unfamiliar experience of sitting in opposition.
Under such circumstances, a well-timed egg attack can become politically more useful than a hundred press conferences.
The omelette conspiracy
Then came the twist. The people arrested in connection with the assault were alleged by the BJP to be linked not to the BJP but to local Trinamool factions associated with a former TMC legislator. Suddenly, the story looked less like an ideological clash and more like a family quarrel conducted with eggs.
If that allegation is true, then Bengal has witnessed the rare spectacle of a party allegedly attacking itself and then blaming its opponents.
That would elevate political theatre into a new art form. The BJP called it factional warfare inside the TMC.
Nothing hurts a political dynasty quite like discovering that the enemy may be sitting in the next party meeting.
Sympathy is not a development plan
The problem for the TMC is that Bengal’s voters seem increasingly reluctant to hand out sympathy certificates. People generally reserve sympathy for victims.
Not for those who ruled uninterrupted for fifteen years and are suddenly shocked to discover that public anger exists.
The former ruling party appears unable to digest electoral defeat. Instead of rebuilding, introspecting and functioning as a credible opposition, it seems trapped in an endless cycle of victimhood, accusations, and roadside nautanki.
Meanwhile, ordinary Bengalis were left with one unforgettable image. A powerful politician wearing a cricket helmet while being attacked by eggs.
If this were genuine politics, it was tragic. If it was political theatre, it was comedy.
Either way, the helmet deserves an award for Best Supporting Actor. The eggs, meanwhile, were merely doing what the opposition has failed to do for years – making an impact.
