A day for 20 minutes

"You deserve an award for your patience," Annamalai, the state president of BJP, told me. With a tired smile, I nodded and glanced down at my watch.

Suddenly, it flashed in a second that I had left the hotel at 6 am to catch him at his first campaign at 7 AM in Coimbatore City. In the morning, I bumped into him at multiple locations, swimming past the hordes of loyalists and followers of Annamalai. Finally, after chasing him the whole day, at 12:30, he said, "You can board in the second half of the campaign at 3 PM." The second half was delayed by an hour, and I boarded his campaign vehicle at around 4 PM.

I shook my head, and the time was 8:50 PM.

It had been about 5 hours since I boarded Annamalai's campaign vehicle to meet his voters in Coimbatore. The original plan was to get on the vehicle, conduct a 15-minute interview, capture visuals of the interaction, and disembark within an hour. But it didn't unfold as we intended. The BJP Tamil Nadu supremo was tirelessly meeting people who were waiting for him at specified points along the road. However, news of Annamalai travelling on the route spread too fast, and people began gathering at unmarked points. The numbers were too large for the politicians to ignore.

"I suggested, 'Let's quickly cover at least two questions.'" He agreed, but it took him another 30 minutes to sit on the chair. Behind the driver's seat, the vehicle had a square platform with hydraulic suspension that could raise itself with a switch, enabling him to address the crowd. Annamalai was so committed to meeting people that it felt as if he had lost track of time.

I gazed out of the window to see a swarm of people—children, elders, youth, and women—eager to get close to their beloved leader in Govanur, a village 30 kilometres away from Coimbatore town. "I replied firmly, 'Let your work proceed. I can wait.'" In my mind, I knew I was famished, tired of the heat, and the frenzy of people surrounding the vehicle with rustic spirit.

I also had an early morning flight to catch to Chennai the next day, and I knew time was ticking. But the sheer intensity of this leader and the sagacity with which he behaved with the constituents of Coimbatore convinced me that my 15 minutes of interaction could wait until he was done for the day. And so, I waited. The clock struck 10 PM. As per election protocol, candidates are not supposed to give public speeches or interact asking for votes.

I looked at Annamalai again, trying to signal to him that now was the time. Yet he chose to ensure he made silent eye contact with people for the next hour who had been waiting for hours to catch a glimpse of the IPS-turned-politician. As the day wound up, he turned towards me from the front seat of the vehicle and quickly said he was tired and couldn't give an interview.

As my heart dropped, stunned in disbelief, I just shrunk. Seeing this, he drew me closer and placed his hand around my shoulder. "Sir, this body has to run full throttle for another 12 days. I need rest," he added, to which I nodded in agreement but gave a silent look, hoping he would change his mind. I had managed to pull off around 2 questions from him, but that was incomplete.There was a silence of uncertainty hanging in the air. To my luck,cIn a jiffy, he agreed. I quickly wrapped up.

For many, this will be a 20-minute interview to watch. But for me, this was a story of a full-day chase of a politician from 6 AM to 11 PM. A day for 20 minutes. Republic World Bhartiya Janta Party (BJP)