A few years ago, I watched an episode of the British political satire Yes Prime Minister on Nepal TV. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and Nepal TV decided to throw in a random episode of the series, but it never carried another installment to my knowledge. But that was okay; I still enjoyed the dry humour it offered for an hour. Yes Prime Minister followed the travails of the British PM, who muddled through his job, his incompetence covered up time and again by the guile and political astuteness of his advisors. The PM was endearingly confused, and at times, a complete fool. But he was there. He had a position that looked stable � at least on the surface.
A tragicomedy of bigger proportions has been unfolding in our country's politics. Far from having a confused and befuddled prime minister, we don't even have a legitimate PM. We've been carrying a national episode of No Prime Minister for months. What's worse, none of us seem to mind. Life goes on as usual. Our politicians are luxuriating in our general apathy. We don't hold them accountable and they're taking their time setting up meetings where they drink a few cups of chiya and pass time for an hour or so. Worse than not having a PM is not missing having a PM. But even when we did have a PM, he was as good as absent. I envy Mr Madhav Nepal. In his current position he can conveniently shirk major responsibilities while enjoying all the benefits. But maybe he always did that anyhow.
Going back to that lazy Sunday afternoon, I remember some wonderful moments. My mother made a plate of bhogate saadheko for me, which I enjoyed while savouring the show on TV. In the evening, I went for a stroll with some friends and we stopped at Everest Momo. We talked about work and had a good laugh over our colleagues and bosses. But when I tried to share some humour from Yes Prime Minister, my friends didn't see what was so funny about an incompetent prime minister. Didn't we have to deal with one in our day-to-day life? I didn't have to turn to a foreign program on TV for a reality check, did I? The mood turned a bit sour. One of my friends discarded half a plate of momo. How could I even find humour in such a situation anymore, he said.
I thought they were being a bit too sensitive back then. Today, I'm forced to concede they were probably right. It was no laughing matter. And those were the good old days. These days we don't even have a PM to laugh about.
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