Poonam Sharma
The question that is being asked across Assam’s political circles in this very unusual political episode is whether the Chief Minister should really keep a record of how many days an MLA’s wife stays at home after returning from abroad. It was when reports emerged about the wife of a prominent leader returning after quite a while, and for three days she allegedly didn’t go out of the house, that this debate had begun. And this results in an even stranger question–Who exactly informed the Chief Minister about such details?
It is being asked sarcastically, “If an MLA’s wife comes back after months, and the couple spends a few days together inside their home, does the Chief Minister need to be updated on their happiness, sadness, or private conversations?” The entire episode feels less like politics and more a family drama accidentally leaked into the public domain.
But beneath the humour lies a serious allegation. The whispers have now started that there could be a spy in the house of ‘Joru Ka Ghulam’ Gogoi—a sharp dig at Gaurav Gogoi, accusing him of giving undue importance to his wife’s preferences. The insinuation is that somebody inside the home is consistently feeding information to political rivals. Otherwise, critics ask, how did information about what transpired in the Gogoi household—about the day of Lachit Divas, especially—get out so fast?
This sudden leak raises uncomfortable questions:
Who is keeping track of the household movements of the Gogoi family?
Why do such private details reach political leaders?
And if the Chief Minister is being briefed, who is keeping him updated daily?
As political observers say, it is not a gossip-oriented issue but reflects how the political rivalries have penetrated deep into private lives. For the Opposition, the situation looks like an example of surveillance or political obsession. For the ruling side, it becomes a convenient story to expose the alleged hypocrisy and melodrama of the Congress camp.
What is even more astonishing is the complete silence of the Congress “madam brigade.” They are normally the first to attack the Chief Minister on matters of privacy and personal dignity. But this time, they have not uttered a single word. No statements, no press conferences, no outraged tweets. Not even the customary criticism. Instead, their silence has sparked another round of sarcasm: “Why is the Congress women’s wing so quiet? Is the Chief Minister suddenly their savior?”
And this whole political theatre foregrounds an ironic fact:
Politics in India now crosses over from rallies and speeches to living rooms, bedrooms, and private conversations; the lines between political strategy and personal surveillance get thinner by the day.
But in all this drama, there is a simple, very mundane human truth that seems to be getting missed out. If a man and woman meet after long, naturally they will spend time together. If someone works hard, he or she gets tired. And if they are tired, they sleep. There’s nothing extraordinary about this. Yet somehow this most normal human behaviour has been turned into a political headline.
“Nepai… Nepai..” — if “let it be, don’t overthink it.” But clearly, no one in the political arena is ready to “let it be.”
Instead, private relationships are dragged into public debates, household routines are treated like intelligence reports, and even marital conversations become points of political speculation. As this bizarre episode unfolds, one thing is clear: Politicking in Assam has reached a point where even silence, slumber, and moments of simple domesticity are now framed as political conspiracies. Whether it is a spy inside the Gogoi household or merely political exaggeration, the controversy has achieved what it set out to do: inject another round of confusion, suspicion, and entertainment into Assam’s political landscape.
Comments are closed, but trackbacks and pingbacks are open.