The bills will come when they have to come. Anyway, whoever ever needed the two houses to work smoothly for bills to be passed?
The weekend came a tad early for parliamentarians on Wednesday as the government adjourned both houses at noon as the opposition kept up the commotion over irregularities, demanding resignation of law minister Ashwani Kumar and railway minister Pawan Bansal.
So this is the way the least productive parliament session, as many put it, ends — not with a bang but a whimper.
It is a move, though, that’s set to herald an open season for sermons by the UPA constituents (read Congress leaders and spokespersons appointed primarily to participate in news channel debates), rage by the opposition (read BJP leaders and spokespersons with a similar calling card) and angst by civil society leaders/activists/intellectuals (what? more all pay and no work?)
But looked at rationally, it can only help the average Delhiite: fewer barricades near Vijay Chowk and other parts of Lutyens’ Delhi leading to a dip in traffic snarls, less power to light and fan the parliamentarians leading (perhaps) to less power outage, and less harangue in the media, especially on TV.
And what about significant bills, especially the assuring food security to millions, as Amartya Sen pointed out the other day?
Well, they will come when they have to. Anyway, whoever ever needed the two houses to work smoothly for bills to be passed? Now that the Karnataka assembly elections are out of the way, and other states are getting ready to line up, and size up, the electorate, before the big game comes knocking in 2014, or earlier, an ordinance is never too far a dream for a law that has the potential to fetch so many more votes.
And the debates by parliamentarians, to (ideally and hopefully) weigh the pros and cons?
Well, who needs them, anyway? The finance bill was passed without any debate and the women’s reservation bill is yet to be passed by Lok Sabha despite so many debates. Either way, the nature of debate and discussion in parliament are oftener than not so shallow that the nation can do with the debates in television studios as well.
But doesn’t it mean undermining democracy?
Chipping away at parliament, possibly. But not democracy per se, certainly not. That phrase ‘temple of democracy’ to signify parliament should best be left for tourist guides on DTC buses on “Dilli darshan” duty. The temple was desecrated long before some terrorists decided to attack it on a December morning over a decade ago. Most of the high priests sitting in it stopped being priests — either high or low — long ago. And the worshippers have learnt their lessons over the years; most of them have turned agnostic anyway.
So, don’t we need parliament?
Yes, we do. An imagery, or representation, matters more than we are ready to acknowledge its significance. Parliament, and more importantly the idea it represents, keeps us, citizens of the republic of India, together — at the worst united against the parliamentarians, and at the best united in the belief that they would go on a break.
Or adjournment, as the linguistically convoluted parliamentarians prefer to call it — sine die or not.