Cap politics in Himachal

The Himachali topi was for long considered to be a symbol of pride, regional identity and cultural uniqueness of the hill people. The cap — Kinnauri, Bushehri and Kullvi, with velvety green, maroon and multi-coloured patti, respectively — was tacitly politicised a couple of decades ago. The two caps — green and maroon — were then assumed to be the symbolic identity of two major political parties. Except those who traditionally wore it, these were considered to harbour implied ideological affiliations with those parties. The off-putting practice was however dispensed with in 2017, when the new leadership took charge. But again, it resurfaced during recent electioneering, with top national leaders flaunting it at the hustings. Kullvi cap, however, remained a ceremonial piece.

It was during that era of cap politics that I was transferred to a far-off place. Eager to get back home, I was on the lookout for a ‘source’. A subordinate had told me about a colleague who, being a small-time employee leader and a self-confessed pujari of a famous shakti peeth, had the uncanny knack of establishing links with political bigwigs. Given his aura, more political than clerical, and signature façade — sporting a tweed cap and broad red tilak — everyone would call him Babuji.

One day, I discussed the matter with him and he acceded to my request. I had only completed six months at the new station when a tour programme of the Chief Minister to the area was circulated. We decided to visit the Circuit House. Babuji had asked me to arrange for the exact cap for myself, which I did.

People seeking redress of their grievances had already gathered there. The Chief Minister arrived late at night. Babuji quickly wrote something on a chit and requested a retinue to give it to the Chief Minister. We were soon called in. Babuji strutted past the crowd and I followed him. He discussed my case and whispered some pleasing asides to the Chief Minister.

The ploy worked and I received my transfer order within a week. Before I left the station, we wined and dined in a restaurant. I enquired how he had managed to do it. A tipsy Babuji stammered, ‘Sir, before polling, I write a letter of prediction to all the probables who could make it to the Chief Minister’s chair, telling each one of them that I seek the blessings of my shakti peeth that his party would form the government and only he would be the Chief Minister! Besides, I keep two caps; whichever party comes to power, I wear the same during their tenure!’

Awed by his wily wit, I chuckled, and remembered Pliny the Elder — ‘In wine, there is truth.’