Amid Crisis Upon Crisis, an AAP Volunteer Asks What's Next

Leaders and politicians will use you, your resources, energies and networks, and discard you to pursue their interests. That's how it is. One should not take it to heart, but I think I did!

In the national election last May, I was an AAP candidate in Uttar Pradesh. I lost the race, but continued to work on the ground for AAP, leading marches, dharnas, volunteer training, and functioning as a media panelist for the party.

Last week, I sat with my hands engulfing my head and felt the largest lump in my throat. I thought I was having a panic attack. When you are 40, you need to be careful about these things! So I ran through my stress triggers; no, it wasn't the hormones, it wasn't work, it wasn't something that happened at home. And yet I was feeling completely trashed.

Later, a concerned friend offered this diagnosis - "You have Political fatigue! Much like voter fatigue, you are suffering from stress and confusion that sets in because you are feeling used, disfranchised and have made choices when mentally you are tired."

It did sound like something I could have.

As we discussed the symptoms of this new-age disease, I realized that I wasn't the only sufferer; our top leaders with the exception of Narendra Modi (who works a bit like Duracell) suffer from it too. Rahul took months off for in the name of "internal introspection" and traveled God knows where to wear it off, Kejriwal goes into Vipassna and sings songs of brotherhood, perhaps to de-stress from his not-so-brotherly battles. Older stalwarts slip into depression from being sidelined by newer netas.

But I was now symptomatic and unlike others, I had no vacation or healing sites to visit. Contesting elections, leading dharnas and defending issues on TV on behalf of AAP has been a costly affair. I could at best afford yoga. And even that hasn't helped so far.

In recent months, I felt serious anger when our Prime Minister raced to push through a Land Ordinance benefiting a few, while vast swathes of the population were crying and dying due to crop failure. There was immense sadness when media exposed a deep rift between the top gurus of AAP; there was numbness when I saw an AAP rally turn into a death site for a young Rajasthani farmer. All this was followed by the news of the Gandhi yuvraj chilling out in some exotic location, only to come back 'revived' to flag some farmers issues (something he should have done years ago). Everything I confronted pointed to how poorly our politicians empathize with real issues that people face.

I, who have been politically active for nearly two years, went into a shell, read Aurobindo and self-help books and soon hope did take over. People around me were running full speed with their own movements: an RTE crusader had ensured the first-ever admissions for poor students in private schools in UP, a young lad from the USA had started a NBA grade basketball academy for village children in Gejha, Uttar Pradesh, and a group of activist friends had pushed for the passing of the seminal Transgender Rights Bill by the Rajya Sabha.

What re-energized me was an issue closest to my - is it wrong to want the same rights for women as men? Will we transcend publicizing a 'first wives club' and hop onto the law-makers' club? How would a Sabeen Mahmud - gunned down in Pakistan - be treated in India? How can the Moga teen's death help push politicians to be more accountable for women's public safety?

I finally understood why I was feeling fatigued - I had kept quiet too long about issues that mattered most to me. It is we who often force politicians to end the stone-walling. Common citizens can combine energies to demand change, answers, preventives.

It was common people who have always led the change agenda. In recent times, we changed the verdict for Jessica Lal and the people's pressure was part of the decision to ensure a fast-track trial for Nirbhaya. It was I and millions of others who lead an aam aadmi all the way to the Chief Minister's chair in Delhi. It was I and a handful of strong women who made the Uttar Pradesh government cringe over the death of the two girls in Badaun and exposed the plight of their families in international media.

So, the next time I have an episode of political fatigue, I will remember that if people like me give up - the campaign for change will take a hit. We cannot afford that and must continue to strive.

(Shefali Misra is a development professional, rights activist and writer. She contested the 2014 Lok Sabha election with the Aam Aadmi Party.)

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