Jharkhand’s Battle
November 4, 2009 – 9:00 AM
Location: Jadavpur, Kolkata – Aritra's Villa
The sun had barely risen when Aritra's phone buzzed relentlessly, alerting him to a stream of messages and reports from Lumen, his AI system, as well as his human operatives in Jharkhand.
The election in Jharkhand was different.
Unlike the three states that had already fallen under BVM's wave, Jharkhand was a stronghold of the old guard.
Here, tribal communities held immense political weight, the state was ridden with Naxalite insurgencies, and political loyalty was often dictated by caste, land disputes, and personal allegiances rather than ideology.
This was a battleground unlike any before.
And Aritra knew—if BVM could win Jharkhand, the message would be clear.
They weren't just a fluke.
They weren't just an experiment.
They were the future.
November 4, 2009 – 10:30 AM
Location: Opposition Headquarters, New Delhi
Inside a lavish, dimly lit conference room, a crisis meeting was underway.
The heads of UPF, PDP, and NDL, along with key industrial backers and media moguls, sat in frustration.
They had lost three states in one go.
Not just lost—been humiliated.
The Maharashtra, Haryana, and Arunachal Pradesh defeats had shattered their confidence. The policies introduced by BVM were gaining massive public support, and the media's narrative was beginning to shift in favor of reform.
For the first time in decades, the old guard was losing its grip.
And Jharkhand was their last chance to stop the flood.
"We cannot afford to lose Jharkhand," one of the senior party heads snapped. "If we do, it's over."
A veteran political strategist, an old man who had controlled elections for decades, leaned forward, his voice sharp and precise.
"In Maharashtra, Haryana, and Arunachal, we underestimated them. We focused on traditional vote banks, while BVM focused on mobilizing silent voters—students, lower-middle-class workers, and people who had lost faith in us."
"We cannot let that happen again."
Another politician, still bitter from his party's total wipeout in Haryana, gritted his teeth.
"So what's the plan?"
The old strategist smirked.
"We play dirtier than ever before."
A silence fell over the room.
And then, the counterattack was planned.
November 6, 2009 – 8:00 AM
Location: Ranchi, Jharkhand – BVM Campaign Office
Jharkhand was nothing like Maharashtra, Haryana, or Arunachal Pradesh.
Here, village elders held sway. Tribal communities operated with their own rules. Naxalite insurgents had a strong presence, disrupting government efforts for years.
And yet, something was changing.
Over the past few weeks, reports from BVM ground teams indicated a noticeable shift in sentiment.
People had watched how BVM had reformed governance in just weeks in the other three states.
They had seen schools improving, corruption being exposed, and governance becoming transparent.
They had heard stories from relatives living in those states.
And for the first time, people in Jharkhand wondered if change was actually possible.
But the opposition wasn't staying silent.
November 6, 2009 – 10:00 AM
Location: Tribal Village, Jharkhand
In a small village, deep inside the forests of Jharkhand, an elderly tribal leader sat with a group of younger men, listening to the political gossip of the day.
"They say BVM will destroy our way of life," one of the younger men muttered.
"That's what they always say about new governments," the elder replied, puffing on his tobacco pipe.
A government-sponsored agent, working for the opposition, leaned forward, his voice low and urgent.
"You don't understand, dada. BVM is dangerous. They want to take away tribal land and give it to corporations. You will lose everything."
The elders murmured among themselves, concerned.
For decades, politicians had used fear to control them.
"But what about the policies in Maharashtra? In Haryana?" a young man asked. "People there say things are getting better."
The agent scoffed.
"That's what they want you to believe."
Misinformation spread like wildfire.
The opposition's plan was simple—fear, misinformation, and chaos.
They started whisper campaigns in rural areas, spreading lies that BVM would strip away tribal land.
They spread false news that BVM would end reservations and demolish local governance structures.
And in the cities, they rallied the rich and powerful against BVM, warning that their fortunes would disappear if BVM took control of another state.
November 12, 2009 – 7:00 PM
Location: Jadavpur, Kolkata – Aritra's Villa
Aritra sat on the balcony, staring at the election data on his screen.
He had expected resistance, but this level of coordinated misinformation was extreme.
Lumen had already flagged thousands of fake news articles, but even AI couldn't stop word-of-mouth lies from spreading.
Aritra exhaled slowly.
"So… this is the last battlefield."
He turned his attention to the voter sentiment tracking reports.
Despite the opposition's efforts, something unexpected was happening.
People were beginning to fight back.
November 15, 2009 – 9:00 AM
Location: Jharkhand – Various Cities
In a small government school in Ranchi, a group of teachers openly discussed BVM's education reforms.
"They are actually rewarding teachers for good performance? If that happens here, we won't be stuck in the same salary forever!"
In a steelworker's colony, men and women discussed how BVM had exposed scams in Maharashtra and Haryana.
"If they introduce that anti-corruption policy here, the politicians who looted our money will be finished!"
And in the remote tribal villages, younger leaders were pushing back against misinformation.
"Why should we fear BVM? The same people who lied to us for 50 years are telling us they are bad? Doesn't that sound suspicious?"
November 25 – December 18, 2009 – Election Days in Jharkhand
The elections took place over five phases.
The opposition parties threw everything they had—money, intimidation, fake news.
But the voters were no longer afraid.
For the first time, they were angry at the old guard.
The polling stations saw record-breaking turnouts.
Voters stood for hours in long lines, refusing to be bought or scared.
And as the final votes were cast, the old guard knew—
They were losing control of Jharkhand.
December 18, 2009 – 6:00 PM
Location: Opposition Headquarters, New Delhi
The atmosphere inside the opposition headquarters was celebratory. Senior leaders sat in lavish leather chairs, sipping on tea, while assistants moved around, ensuring everything was perfect for the victory announcement they were sure would come the next day.
Unlike Maharashtra, Haryana, and Arunachal Pradesh, Jharkhand was their territory.
They had controlled it for decades—with a firm grip on tribal leadership, rural strongholds, and political machinery.
This election, they had flooded the state with resources, ensuring that their party workers, village heads, and local enforcers kept the voters in line.
As the final exit polls trickled in, one of the analysts chuckled, shaking his head.
"The media is going crazy over BVM again. But we all know how this will end."
An older leader, a veteran of Jharkhand politics, leaned back in his chair, smirking.
"Let them enjoy their delusions. Our numbers in the villages are strong. The tribal councils have given us their support. This is already over."
A younger politician, who had been worried about BVM's growing influence, frowned slightly.
"But sir, we saw what happened in Maharashtra and Haryana. Shouldn't we be more cautious?"
The old leader scoffed.
"Jharkhand is not Maharashtra! This state doesn't vote for Twitter slogans. Here, elections are won on the ground—with relationships, loyalty, and years of favors."
The others nodded in agreement.
To them, BVM's success in the other states had been a fluke, an anomaly caused by urban voters who got carried away by AI-generated campaigns and fancy speeches.
Jharkhand was different.
They had veteran political machinery in place. They controlled the narratives.
There was no chance for BVM to win here.
"By tomorrow morning," one of the senior members said confidently, "we will be discussing our new cabinet positions."
As laughter and glasses clinking filled the room, none of them realized—
Their entire world was about to collapse.
And they wouldn't even see it coming.