The Opposition’s Counterattack Begins

December 20, 2009 – Various Locations Across India

The winter chill had settled over India, yet inside political war rooms and lavish boardrooms, tempers burned. The recent Jharkhand election results shattered the opposition's illusions. Bhavishya Vikas Morcha (BVM) captured over 90% of the seats, proving that their earlier wins in Maharashtra, Haryana, and Arunachal Pradesh were no fluke.

Once untouchable dynasties were now bleeding, humiliated, and desperate—and desperation breeds action.

As the sun set, secret meetings sprang into motion. Major opposition parties had gathered their top strategists and financial backers—industrialists, media moguls, and corporate tycoons who had poured billions into political control. Now, their investments had failed spectacularly. The time for passive observation was over; it was time to fight back.

8:00 PM – United Progress Front (UPF) War Room, New Delhi

Inside the UPF headquarters, high-ranking politicians, bureaucrats, and trusted financial supporters filled the conference room. The scent of expensive cigars and imported whiskey mingled with an air of defeat rather than celebration.

At the head of the table sat Madhukar Shastri, UPF's veteran leader, his face etched with age and exhaustion. He had ruled Indian politics for decades, yet tonight his legacy was crumbling.

"Tell me," he demanded, voice cutting through the tension, "how did this happen?"

After a long silence, election strategist Anil Verma finally cleared his throat. "Sir… the people aren't voting as they used to. BVM's policies—especially the anti-corruption portal—have changed everything. Public anger is at an all-time high. We… we underestimated them."

"Underestimated?" Shastri bellowed, slamming his fist on the table. "Is that what you call losing four states in a row?"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Steel tycoon Mahendra Rathi, a major donor, scowled. "I lost 500 crores backing your campaigns, and for what? So some no-name party could waltz in and seize control?"

Shastri's jaw tightened. Rathi leaned forward, his tone menacing: "This cannot continue. We must hit back—hard. If BVM governs unchecked, our business environment will become hostile."

Taking a slow breath, Shastri replied, "We are not finished yet. BVM has no experience running a government. They will make mistakes, and when they do, we will tear them apart."

A few nods confirmed the resolve.

10:30 PM – People's Democratic Party (PDP) Headquarters, Chandigarh

In a room buzzing with panic and barely contained rage, PDP leader Harpal Yadav paced furiously, his thick mustache twitching as he clenched his fists.

"What do you mean we lost Haryana?" he snapped. "We have ruled this state for decades!"

His deputy, Rajinder Malhotra, tried to explain, "Sir, it was the youth. BVM's education policies—"

"To hell with their policies!" Yadav interrupted. "Find out who is funding them! No party rises this fast without hidden backers."

After a tense silence, influential real estate magnate Ketan Suri spoke. "We've tried tracing the funds—there's no major industrialist or foreign investor backing them."

"Then they must be receiving black money from somewhere!" Yadav declared. "I want an investigation launched immediately! If we can't win the elections fairly, we'll win by burying them in scandals."

His team nodded grimly. If fair play wasn't an option, dirty tactics would prevail.

11:15 PM – Maharashtra National Bloc (MNB) Leader's Residence, Mumbai

In a lavish sea-facing bungalow in South Mumbai, the state's most powerful business families—the real architects of Maharashtra's economy—gathered at Ramesh Thakur's residence.

Thakur, a media baron whose empire had long shaped public opinion, poured a glass of scotch before speaking. "BVM's victory in Maharashtra has been a disaster. They rejected every deal we offered—no political favors, no preferential contracts."

Frustrated murmurs filled the room as Thakur continued, "Worse yet, their anti-corruption app has put many of our associates at risk. Rumors of anonymous reports are circulating, and if this continues, some of us will be exposed."

Pharma billionaire Manoj Mehta then interjected, "Then we cripple them. If BVM wants to run Maharashtra without our support, we will ensure they fail spectacularly."

"How?" asked Thakur.

"We cut off funding, investments, and media coverage. No major businessman, bank, or foreign investor should touch their projects."

A slow, wicked grin spread across the room. "Let's see how long they last," Mehta smirked.

December 21, 2009 – 1:00 AM – Aritra's Villa, Jadavpur

In Kolkata, Aritra sat in his dim study, eyes fixed on his laptop screen. The political elite and their billionaire allies believed their secret meetings were secure. They were wrong.

Using Lumen—his AI-powered intelligence network—Aritra watched recordings of every meeting: every whispered threat, every desperate scheme, every plan of attack. A slight smirk curved his lips. So, this was their counterattack? Good. The war was far from over.

7:00 AM – UPF Media Cell, New Delhi

Outside, the sky remained a dull gray, but inside the UPF Media Cell, lights burned through the night. Senior media strategists and social media teams worked in emergency mode—keyboards clicked, screens flickered, and printers churned out talking points.

At the center stood Nitin Shroff, UPF's national media director, known as the "spin doctor." His bloodshot eyes darted between screens displaying real-time data, social media sentiments, and confidential documents.

Tapping his pen rhythmically, he announced, "We need to bury Bhavishya Vikas Morcha before they take root in Jharkhand." A junior analyst hesitated, "Sir, the BVM government in Maharashtra and Haryana hasn't introduced any radical policies yet. There's nothing to attack."

With a thin, predatory smile, Nitin replied, "You don't need facts to destroy a party—you need doubt." He then ordered, "Launch a full-spectrum disinformation campaign immediately. Use our controlled independent outlets, paid influencers, and friendly media houses to push these narratives:• BVM is a front for foreign agencies—Western influence, corporate puppetry, even Chinese infiltration if you can spin it.• They are anti-Hindu, a sleeper cell for minority appeasement.• Their clean image is a sham—we will fabricate links between their local candidates and known criminals.By the time the truth surfaces, the damage will be done."

The team scrambled to take notes. Nitin continued, "And find me dirt—any dirt—on those new Chief Ministers. If none exists, manufacture it. Leaked videos, forged land deals, sexual harassment allegations—we must make them look corrupt."

A young aide ventured, "But sir, if the reports from the scam portal prove accurate and money begins flowing back into the treasury, people might ignore our noise."

Nitin's expression turned ice-cold. "That's why we must ensure the public never believes that money is real." After a brief silence, he clapped his hands. "Start by seeding doubts about the portal itself. Call it a data-harvesting scam—a tool for blackmailing political rivals. And above all, make sure no one trusts it."

10:00 AM – PDP Internal Crisis Meeting, Chandigarh

In a cramped, tense room at PDP headquarters, Harpal Yadav sat with his core leadership team. Ignoring a half-empty cup of tea by his side, he leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes burning with frustration.

"We poured everything into retaining Haryana," he growled. "We didn't lose to BVM—we lost because we became complacent, relying solely on caste arithmetic."

Political advisor Rajinder Malhotra added cautiously, "BVM's tech-based approach transcended caste lines. Their candidates didn't depend on traditional vote banks—they reached young people directly via phones, colleges, and OmniLink broadcasts."

Yadav sneered, "And now? What are they doing?"

Rajinder shifted uncomfortably. "So far, they've been silent—no massive rallies, no boasts. It's as if they're…watching."

That unnerved Yadav. "They're planning something bigger. No one wins three states in a row and then takes Jharkhand without a masterplan."

The room grew tense. Although the Jharkhand elections were over, the results were still pending. Yet BVM's silent confidence had rattled everyone.

"We need to secure our financial support base," Yadav declared. "Any industrialist even thinking of switching sides must be ruined—cut off their licenses, threaten their contracts. They either bleed with us or burn."

Rajinder hesitated, "Some of our traditional backers—real estate developers, education mafias—are nervous. If BVM's education reforms spread to Haryana, they could decimate the private coaching market."

Yadav slammed his fist on the table. "Then we stop those reforms before they begin. If necessary, we'll buy out the top education bureaucrats."

Standing with eyes blazing, he vowed, "If BVM wants a clean government, we'll make sure they can't breathe without stepping into our dirt."

11:30 AM – MNB's Emergency Donor Summit, Mumbai

In the luxurious Trident Hotel, an air-conditioned hall hosted Maharashtra's real power brokers—real estate tycoons, Bollywood financiers, private port owners, and political fundraisers who had backed the Maharashtra National Bloc for decades.

At the head sat Vikram Patil, MNB's state president—a man on the verge of losing control. "Gentlemen," he began with strained calm, "we are here because the unthinkable has happened. We—the foundation of Maharashtra's economy—have been locked out of the new government."

No pleasantries followed. Patil continued, "We sent multiple emissaries to the new Chief Minister; every proposal was rejected, every offer refused. Even when we offered to fund BVM's expansion in Jharkhand, we received no response."

The room fell silent. "This means," Patil said grimly, "they are either fools or something far worse."

Anil Ghosh, head of the Maharashtra Builder's Guild, leaned back, his face pale. "They don't want our money? Then what do they want?"

"Until we know," Patil replied, "we freeze all major projects—no infrastructure investments, no land acquisitions, no new contracts."

The businessmen paled. "Any BVM legislator willing to work with us will be bought," Patil added. "If they cannot be bought, we will bury them in scandals."

When someone asked about public reaction, Patil smirked, "We remind the public who really runs Maharashtra. When investments halt and projects stop, they will blame BVM—and we will step in to 'rescue' the state." The room remained silent, filled with cold resolve.

2:00 PM – Aritra's Office, Jadavpur

In the quiet of his private office, Aritra leaned back, watching the hidden war unfold across India on his laptop screen. Every desperate order, threat, and bribe had been recorded and cataloged by Lumen.

He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the irony. The old elite believed they were fighting BVM—they had no idea they were fighting him.

When he opened his eyes, his resolve was unshakable.

The war had begun—not one waged solely with money, power, or threats, but a battle for the very soul of the nation.