Dear Santa Sarkar,
I know you love me. I know you do not wish to neglect me — as a mai-baap sarkar, you can’t neglect me. Ever since I can remember you have been telling us — your dear, dependent children — how much you care for us, how much you are doing for us, and how much more you will do if only we return your affection through the ballot box. Like indulgent parents, you play Santa Claus to us, you fill our stockings with generous gifts at least once in five years. We love you.

Well, dear Santa, I was thinking of you, today being Christmas. I did take a peek at my stocking this morning, hung up right in front of Parliament House, but I guess you missed it. Well anyway, there is still time. Just a day late doesn’t count. You could swing along tonight with your sack of gifts — we know how brilliantly you can get things done once the deadline is over.
I really have been very good this year. Haven’t complained too much. Have been a loyal consumer, even buying onions at `80 a kilo. Haven’t filed a single Right to Information petition. Haven’t killed anyone. Haven’t swindled anyone. Haven’t raped anyone. And have not spoken to Niira Radia even once.
Besides, I really am loyal to you, my Santa sarkar. I trust you. I don’t believe you were in anyway to blame for the Commonwealth Games scam. Or for the 2G spectrum scam. Or for the spiralling price rise. These things happen. They happen all the time. Not your fault. I am your loyal child, Santa sarkar. Smile at me.
You give so generously to everyone, Santa. Even to fat cats who wish to dominate our lives through special economic zones. Your gifts are legion. I don’t mind how you slot me. Look at me as a “backward” child, that’s okay. Or as a “minority” — I am too minor for words. Or you could put me in the “disturbed” category — I am truly, dangerously disturbed. Besides I am a woman, I swear. Find a slot for me, will you? Here’s a quick wish list.
First: Food. Would be great for a hungry nation. But if you can’t manage the whole country, just give it to us who are close to you. Of course, it’s not favouritism — it’s just normal. You know, the way you give prime portfolios to important coalition allies? Just be good to us, the privileged, urban middle class who control public opinion, and we will be good to you. (No, not the rotten grain you have tucked away in dirty, rat-infested godowns, you could give that away to the poor. They should eat too, once in a while, poor things.)
All of us need safe food. As you know, at the moment practically everything we eat is contaminated with pesticides, hormones and all kinds of toxic stuff. Even the milk our kids drink is somewhat poisoned. Could you put a system in place to check it? Thanks. And do bring down the prices a bit, please. Not just onions, it would be nice to have some milk, vegetables, fruit, eggs, fish and meat too.
Second: Water. We need safe water. Sure, digging wells is fine as an employment generation scheme. Of course, there are villages with very little water, where women walk for miles to get a pot of water for their family. They could perhaps benefit from a well or two. That’s fine. But we need a comprehensive plan that works for everyone, don’t you think? Not just ornamental wells and tubewells but good, safe water for all. So we can all bathe, wash clothes, drink the recommended eight glasses of water a day. Those of us who can afford it have sophisticated water filters at home, of course, but these don’t work so well when you fill them with water bought from dirty, leaking tankers. Besides, away from the cities, the fruit and vegetables we eat are grown in toxic water, which pollutes them. Do something, na?
Third: Electricity. Why can’t we have life without power cuts? And while you are at it, would be nice if you could electrify villages that are still living by daylight and oil lamps. May even increase productivity and bring down Naxalism in certain areas.
Fourth: A functional Parliament. Would be nice. You know how expensive things are these days, we can’t really afford hundreds of crores to pay MPs just to block parliamentary proceedings anymore.
Fifth: New batteries for the legal machinery. It’s too slow, too creaky and too important to be neglected.
Sixth: Clarity. I know, I know. Of course, you are working towards transparency. You promise to root out corruption too. And the right to information has certainly empowered us to some extent. But could we please not get killed while exercising that right?
Seventh: Safety. And I am not just talking about cross-border terrorism. I mean a good police system, which would make citizens safer, keep crime rates low and allow us to withdraw security forces from Kashmir and the Northeast. I know you are now happy to give us guns, dear Santa sarkar, but truth be told, I wouldn’t know how to use one. I’d rather have the police do their job, thank you.
Eighth: A promise meter. Something that could keep track of your promises and persuade you to implement them. Especially in areas of health, education and other development matters.
Ninth: Magic ear plugs. Our netas seem to have them — they clearly can’t hear our voices at all. So could we also have these ear plugs please, so we don’t have to hear the nonsensical chatter of our netas?
Tenth: This one is just so you don’t feel bad. If you can’t give me all this, don’t worry. I am still with you. I’ll find my way to a better life. Just give me Niira Radia’s phone number.

Antara Dev Sen is editor of The Little Magazine.
She can be contacted at: sen@littlemag.com