India
Engaged in a tough battle in family stronghold, Iltija seeks emotional connection with voters | India News – Times of India
BIJBEHARA: Her roadshows are few and far between. Standing on an SUV, a dupatta over her head, debutante Iltija Mufti flaunts a broad smile and folded hands, the deft movement of her head seeking support above a noisy gathering. But in no time, she was seen grabbing a party flag from a supporter and leading the sloganeering, her slender body shaking to her lusty chants of “joonu joonu, PDP joonu,” her two fists raised, a squeaky voice with the novelty of an upstart.
She could be the gentle grandfather Mufti Mohd Sayeed or aggressive mother Mehbooba Mufti.
For those watching this unfold in real time, becoming an MLA is an uphill battle. But for many who see it as a WhatsApp forward, without context, they might mistake it for a college election. Such are the frames of freshness that punctuate Iltija’s roadshows.
“We have to keep going. We’ll talk later,” is her earnest plea as she leans through the sunroof, politely waving away a journalist and returning to the routine of being seen and supported.
Two kinds of crowds greet her long convoy. Young people in the cities who seem to identify with the labels PDP and Mufti. And families in villages, mostly women and young girls, who stand at their doors and line the streets to welcome their child. It is the countryside, the green and serene villages of Bijbehara, that reveal the deep reserves of emotional connection for the PDP.
On the final day of campaigning, the PDP made a final push in these pockets. The day-long car show brought towns, villages and traffic to a standstill, choking up streets, markets and small bridges. That day was supposed to restore confidence to the party, bogged down as it is in a surprise challenge in the family stronghold of Bijbehara. And the party had hoped it would be the same in the larger region of South Kashmir..
It is Iltija’s stop and move rally that reveals what has made the PDP a force within three years of its launch in 1999 by the late Mufti Mohd Sayeed. In some villages, young girls run to the campaign vehicle and lead the sloganeering on microphones, while others join organically in response. It could be the typical ‘tamasha’ that election campaigns are for children. Or it could be the passing on of support through generations in families. All the while, the Mufti girl is smiling and just seeking support — “we will do your job. You know us…”
A retired government employee, Mohd Saleem Shah, who was in the Congress with “Mufti Sahab” and followed him to the PDP. “The alliance with the BJP was wrong, but the PDP will win here.” Mushtaq Ahmed, who drives large trucks loaded with Kashmiri apples across the country, enthusiastically joined the roadshow in his own car, driving at breakneck speed on the narrow, winding roads that connect the hamlets here. “It may be a neck-and-neck race. But we should win,” he sighed, asking for patience till October 8, the counting day.
It’s a grim battle in south Kashmir, with even the BJP staging a major roadshow that has shopkeepers and bar boys in Bijbehara talking. The 37-year-old, third-generation political legatee of the famous clan, couldn’t have picked a more difficult time to make her electoral plunge.
But Iltija’s concern seems to be focused primarily on emerging as a new generation of politicians in a region fraught with dangers and treacherous politics from seasoned players.
“….I will be your MLA,” she concluded in a village, leaving behind smiling women and girls.
She could be the gentle grandfather Mufti Mohd Sayeed or aggressive mother Mehbooba Mufti.
For those watching this unfold in real time, becoming an MLA is an uphill battle. But for many who see it as a WhatsApp forward, without context, they might mistake it for a college election. Such are the frames of freshness that punctuate Iltija’s roadshows.
“We have to keep going. We’ll talk later,” is her earnest plea as she leans through the sunroof, politely waving away a journalist and returning to the routine of being seen and supported.
Two kinds of crowds greet her long convoy. Young people in the cities who seem to identify with the labels PDP and Mufti. And families in villages, mostly women and young girls, who stand at their doors and line the streets to welcome their child. It is the countryside, the green and serene villages of Bijbehara, that reveal the deep reserves of emotional connection for the PDP.
On the final day of campaigning, the PDP made a final push in these pockets. The day-long car show brought towns, villages and traffic to a standstill, choking up streets, markets and small bridges. That day was supposed to restore confidence to the party, bogged down as it is in a surprise challenge in the family stronghold of Bijbehara. And the party had hoped it would be the same in the larger region of South Kashmir..
It is Iltija’s stop and move rally that reveals what has made the PDP a force within three years of its launch in 1999 by the late Mufti Mohd Sayeed. In some villages, young girls run to the campaign vehicle and lead the sloganeering on microphones, while others join organically in response. It could be the typical ‘tamasha’ that election campaigns are for children. Or it could be the passing on of support through generations in families. All the while, the Mufti girl is smiling and just seeking support — “we will do your job. You know us…”
A retired government employee, Mohd Saleem Shah, who was in the Congress with “Mufti Sahab” and followed him to the PDP. “The alliance with the BJP was wrong, but the PDP will win here.” Mushtaq Ahmed, who drives large trucks loaded with Kashmiri apples across the country, enthusiastically joined the roadshow in his own car, driving at breakneck speed on the narrow, winding roads that connect the hamlets here. “It may be a neck-and-neck race. But we should win,” he sighed, asking for patience till October 8, the counting day.
It’s a grim battle in south Kashmir, with even the BJP staging a major roadshow that has shopkeepers and bar boys in Bijbehara talking. The 37-year-old, third-generation political legatee of the famous clan, couldn’t have picked a more difficult time to make her electoral plunge.
But Iltija’s concern seems to be focused primarily on emerging as a new generation of politicians in a region fraught with dangers and treacherous politics from seasoned players.
“….I will be your MLA,” she concluded in a village, leaving behind smiling women and girls.
