The citizens of Ramgarh, a quaint village of interesting characters and abundant crop, enjoyed a tranquil existence. The farmers were productive, and managed enough of a surplus to sell to the entire village. Merchants, shoemakers, blacksmiths, weavers and other professionals kept the local Bazaar humming with activity, from the break of dawn till the last vegetable vendor pulled down the shutters and walked home happily to his family. Crime was low, and justice was meted out swiftly by the council of the village elders. All was well.
But power can smell wealth like a shark smelling blood in the water, and so Gabbar Singh and his gang of marauders arrived on the scene. They shot up the marketplace, destroyed equipment, held the children hostage. A cloud of terror came over the simple village.
'I want 2 out of every 4 bags of grain you have', thundered Gabbar, as he walked slowly across the deathly silent cobbled street, his cartridge belt dragging ominously behind him. 'I could have taken them all, but i want only half. That is the generosity of Gabbar.'
The villagers didn't feel it was particularly generous, but they had no choice. It was pay or die. So pay they did. Every month, Gabbar would send his vicious goons to collect the bounty. Sometimes they would prey on the women, and kill anyone who dared intervene. The grain surplus was lost, and the marketplace began to collapse. The farmers now had little to sell, and hence could not ask for services in return. The demand for professionals began to take a nosedive and soon the children began to starve due to the severe rationing of food.
The oppression began to take its toll and the grain output fell from 4 bags to 2 bags per family. Gabbar wouldn't relent, and the people became desperate. A group of brave young men, tired of watching their families suffer, organized an attack against Gabbar. Using pitchforks and other farming instruments, they waylaid a couple of Gabbar's men. But the taste of victory was short lived, and Gabbar's retribution was merciless. The village lost half their men that day.
As the gypsy woman danced late into the night around the campfire, Gabbar smoked his chillum and was lost deep in thought. The state of affairs with Ramgarh could not continue. A peasant revolution could only be quelled so many times, before they figure out a way to overthrow his dominion over them. Brute force would not do. He needed a more sophisticated and nuanced approach.
He sent his foot soldier, Kaalia, to go find Jay and Veeru, Mumbai's noted thieves and scamsters. Gabbar had run into them once on a robbery, and had been impressed by their metropolitan intellect. Kaalia failed in his mission, and returned with somebody named Surma Bhopali, who claimed to be as good as JaynVeeru. Gabbar laughed manically at the idiocy of it all, and then shot them both. He then sent his second-in-command, Sambha to finish the job. Sambha broke out Jay and Veeru from a strange prison run by a Hitler lookalike, and brought them back to Gabbar.
INTERMISSION
Gabbar, over tea and biscuits, explained to JnV what a pickle he was in. He could not continue in his current model without risking another uprising. But he could not give up the bounty either. He was a notorious and feared robber for god's sake. He had a reputation to protect, especially among children who wouldn't sleep at night. JnV expressed their sympathy with G, but explained that this problem had been solved a long time ago. No need to reinvent the wheel. Jay explained the plan as such:
"As you rightly pointed out Gabbar, the people will not stay oppressed forever. Productivity falls under dictatorship as freedom is restricted. Sooner or later, the lack of freedom and choice breaks them, and they resort to violence and revolution ensues. What you need to do is provide them with the illusion of Choice. They will still pay the bounty, but of their own volition. In the outside world, this scheme is called 'Democracy'."
"Demo-what-see-now?", inquired a curious Gabbar, who had never heard of such delicious deviousness before.
"Democracy", explained Veeru. "It is when people believe that those in power have their best interest in mind. Only because they 'choose' them in events called 'elections'. Once every 5 years, we will hold these elections, and let them 'choose' who will lord over them and get the bounty."
"But what if they choose someone among themselves?"
"Oh, but thats the beauty of it all." picked up Jay. "Nobody in their right mind would want the job. Only the power hungry and lazy like us seek the throne. No farmer, or butcher, or weaver would be attracted enough to the seat of power to quit what they want to do. Power makes them uncomfortable. Anybody who seriously considers it, we can buy off."
Gabbar's eyes shone as he understood it all. The answer to all his problems was Choice.
Next day, Jay and Veeru dragged a chained Gabbar into Ramgarh. There were howls of surprise, followed by exuberant fist waving and sporadic clapping. JnV stood on a pedestal and enamored the stunned audience with tales of bravery and sacrifice. They had heard of the trials of the people of Ramgarh, and with great danger to themselves caught the dreaded dacoit Gabbar and disbanded his gang. The days of indigence for Ramgarh were over.
The village erupted in jubilation. Girls swooned over the heroes and clouds of color enveloped the previous grayness that had descended on the hapless village. Happy days were here again!
The next day JnV announced a new plan for the village. So the village is never at the mercy of the likes of Gabbar again, it was decided that the village would become a Democracy. Every 5 years the villagers would choose a protector from among themselves who would wield enough power to save them from external threats. Jay and Veeru would run in the first democratic elections of Ramgarh. Again, the village was overjoyed at this news. They would be protected, and all they had to do in return was give the 'representative' 1 out of every 4 bags of grain. Surely, that was reasonable. After all, they could Choose.
And so elections were held. Both Jay and Veeru campaigned vigorously for the seat of power. Jay promised free grain to the poor mendicants of the village, whereas Veeru sold special privileges to some merchants who had trouble competing in the Bazaar.
It was a close election, but Veeru won out in the end. As promised, he soon started forcing the competitors of his campaign donors to pay levies. He also made it easier for his friends to start businesses by enacting special laws that favored them. His close friend, a corn farmer, convinced him that corn was the best crop for the village. It also meant greater profits for Veeru. So laws were passed that made corn farming the most profitable by subsidizing the crop. Soon the entire village was just consuming corn and corn products. Disease became rampant, as diets became corn based. The children became obese and the doctors made more money than they knew what to do with. The local bank began speculating with the villager's money, once Veeru backed the speculation with the villager's bounties. It was a great time for anybody who could buy Veeru's favor. Monopolies began to form. Soon, even those who had previously succeeded in the Bazaar themselves, needed Veeru's blessing to stay afloat. Everybody got in line. It was the scam of the century.
The common man was severely disappointed with Veeru's reign. So he eagerly voted for Jay in the next elections. Most of Jay's votes came from the poor, who had increased in number during Veeru's term and were thrilled by promises of free food. As soon as Jay came to power, he increased the monthly payment from 1 to 2 bags of grain. Yes, this was what Gabbar had been getting in his day, but the people Chose this option. Surely they can't go wrong. What about the poor!
As had happened during Gabbar's reign of terror, the extra bags of grain that were going to feed the poor, created stresses in the Bazaar. The surplus was gone, and soon productive jobs followed. The number of people that qualified as poor and needed free food went up exponentially. The war on poverty had created more poverty. The people were miserable.
Of course, Jay Veeru and Gabbar made out like bandits. Only this was legalized banditry and they couldn't be happier. Since only Gabbar could save the village from Gabbar's wrath, he became a private contractor and got paid handsomely by the administration for 'protecting' the village from himself! Veeru married the daughter of a religious clergyman, and cornered that market. Jay married the widowed daughter of a village intellectual named Thakur, who immediately hailed the elections and democracy as a victory of the people and freedom. He wrote extensively in the local newspaper, his hands now the property of Gabbar incorporated. Soon, his daughter became a political force of her own, and her family became a dynasty.
So life continues today in the village of Ramgarh, as miserable as it had been during the troubled days of Gabbar Singh. Jay and Veeru both had children, who have grown up to ride the streets of the village with impunity. Little children often come under the hoofs of their wild horses, and the princes wave it off with a flourish of their gun. The families of Jay and Veeru are now the law and the justice of the land. Every 5 years the villagers of Ramgarh, their hope broken, walk up to the ballot box to choose between the large families of Jay and Veeru. Surely, they tell themselves, and their children, it is not all bad. Because, at least there is that....at least there is Choice.
