The Unbreakable Wall

October 26, 2010

9:00 PM — BVM Headquarters, Patna

The night had settled over Patna, but inside the BVM headquarters, there was no rest, no celebration, no relief. The storm that had carried them to victory had not yet passed—it had merely changed direction.

The conference room was packed, the tension so thick it was suffocating. The new MLAs sat along the long wooden table, some still in their crisp, freshly tailored kurtas, others in their worn-out party colors, still reeling from their unexpected ascent to power. The air was thick with unspoken questions, with uncertainty, with the kind of silent pressure that only came before battle.

At the head of the table sat Vikram Sinha, Bihar's soon-to-be Chief Minister. His face was calm but unyielding, his hands clasped together as he listened to the murmurs rippling through the room.

"They're already making moves," Mishra muttered, glancing toward the door as if expecting it to be bugged. "We have reports that at least a dozen of our MLAs have been approached."

A ripple of unease passed through the room.

"What are they offering?" Vikram asked, his voice low.

Mishra exhaled sharply. "Money. Power. Promises of ministerial posts. The usual. But the amount is…" He hesitated. "Unprecedented."

"How much?"

Mishra's fingers tapped against the table. "Ten crore per MLA."

A sharp intake of breath swept through the room.

Even some of the more experienced members flinched. Ten crores was not an offer—it was a kingdom.

A young MLA from Gaya—no more than thirty-five years old, his kurta still stiff from its first wear—leaned forward. "They really think we're that cheap?" His voice held no fear, only disdain.

Vikram's lips twitched in something almost resembling a smile. "They don't just think it," he said quietly. "They're counting on it."

A silence stretched across the table.

They all knew the truth—Bihar's politics had never been clean. Every man in this room knew stories of leaders who had switched sides overnight, of governments built not on ideology but on bank accounts.

For decades, power had belonged to the highest bidder.

And now, BVM was being tested.

Vikram exhaled slowly, standing up. His chair scraped against the wooden floor, the sound loud in the quiet room. He looked around, his gaze sweeping across the new MLAs—many of whom had never expected to sit in this room, to hold this power, to be the deciding force in Bihar's future.

"I won't waste time with long speeches," he said simply. "But I will say this."

He leaned forward slightly, his voice lower, heavier.

"We didn't come this far to sell ourselves like street merchants."

A murmur of agreement.

"They will come at you. With money. With fear. With promises that will make your families beg you to take the deal."

The murmurs grew quieter.

"And some of you will wonder if it's worth it. If it's better to take the money and walk away."

His gaze darkened.

"But let me remind you of something." His voice dropped. "If you betray BVM now, you will not be remembered as a politician. You will be remembered as a coward."

Silence.

A heavy, unbreakable silence.

The young MLA from Gaya stood up. His hands curled into fists. His voice was clear, unshaken.

"They can keep their money," he said. "I'd rather stand with my people."

Across the table, another MLA—this one from Muzaffarpur, a former farmer's leader—nodded. "They didn't expect us to win. Now they don't expect us to last. Let's prove them wrong."

One by one, the MLAs rose to their feet.

One by one, they chose loyalty over greed.

And in that moment, the opposition's worst fear was realized.

BVM's government would not fall.

October 28, 2010

11:00 AM — Bihar Vidhan Sabha, Patna

The air inside the Vidhan Sabha was thick with tension, the kind that settled in deep, making every breath feel heavier. The chamber was packed, every seat occupied by men who were no strangers to the ruthless games of power. On one side, BVM's newly elected government, led by Vikram Sinha, sat with their 130 MLAs, their expressions carefully composed but their postures stiff, alert, prepared for war.

On the other side sat the remnants of the ruling party and the opposition, their ranks thinned, but their defiance unwavering. They weren't here to accept defeat. They were here to tear apart the legitimacy of this government before it could even take its first breath.

At the center of it all, standing at the Speaker's podium, was the pro tem Speaker, an independent MLA who had been strategically appointed to oversee the first session. His gaze flickered across the room, fully aware that the fate of Bihar's government rested on the next few hours.

Vikram sat motionless, his hands clasped together on the table in front of him, his face unreadable. Beside him, Aditya Pratap leaned back slightly, his expression a picture of boredom—but beneath the surface, his mind was moving at lightning speed. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on the room.

The first agenda item was clear: the confidence motion.

Would BVM formally prove its majority? Or would the opposition succeed in breaking them apart?

The Speaker cleared his throat. "The House will now proceed with the vote of confidence for the newly formed government of Bihar, led by Chief Minister Vikram Sinha."

The murmur of voices rippled across the hall like a rising tide, whispers and sharp glances exchanged.

Then, before the process could even begin, a voice cut through the room like a blade.

"This vote is a joke!"

A senior MLA from the ruling party's camp stood up, his face twisted in fury. "This government was not elected—it was manufactured!"

Shouts erupted immediately, the opposition slamming their fists on their desks, some even standing up in protest.

Vikram did not react. His face remained calm, unmoved, unreadable.

The MLA's voice grew louder. "BVM has stolen this election! They have no right to sit in these chairs and pretend to govern Bihar! They—"

"Sit down if you're going to cry about it."

The words were spoken softly, but the impact was immediate.

The MLA's face darkened, his head snapping toward the source of the voice.

It was a young BVM MLA—the one from Gaya, the same one who had stood up against the bribes just two nights ago. He sat with his arms crossed, his expression laced with mockery.

"If you had spent half the energy you're wasting right now on actually running this state," the young MLA continued, "maybe your party wouldn't have been thrown into the garbage like yesterday's news."

The opposition benches erupted in fury.

"You arrogant little—!"

"This isn't a playground!"

"You people have no idea what you're doing!"

"ORDER!" the Speaker's voice boomed across the chamber, slamming the chaos into silence.

Vikram finally leaned forward, his hands unfolding as he spoke, his voice quiet, but powerful enough to cut through the noise.

"The people of Bihar have spoken," he said. "The numbers in this room reflect that. You lost."

The words hit like a hammer.

He let the silence linger for just a moment before continuing.

"This vote is not about who shouts the loudest. It is not about who throws the biggest tantrum. It is about the will of the people. If you believe we do not have their support—" his gaze flickered toward the opposition, "then prove it through the vote."

The MLA who had protested earlier glared at him but said nothing. He knew the vote would not go their way.

The process began.

One by one, the MLAs stood to cast their vote.

Every name called was a moment of reckoning.

Some did it with pride, their voices strong, their words carrying conviction.

Some did it reluctantly, knowing they were aligning themselves with a force far greater than they had expected.

The opposition waited. Hoped.

Prayed for a defection.

For one moment of weakness.

For one man to take the money waiting for him in a hidden account and turn his back on BVM.

But that moment never came.

When the final tally was announced, the chamber fell into a stunned silence.

130 votes in favor.

113 against.

BVM had held.

The government stood.

A sharp, furious exhale came from the former Chief Minister's bench. He stood up abruptly, his face twisted with rage, before turning on his heel and storming out of the chamber, his party members following behind him like a line of defeated soldiers.

Vikram watched them leave.

Then, for the first time since the election results, he allowed himself a small, victorious smile.

BVM had won Bihar.

And there was nothing the opposition could do about it.

October 29, 2010

11:00 AM — Raj Bhavan, Patna

The air inside Raj Bhavan carried the scent of polished wood and fresh marigold garlands, their golden petals draped across the grand staircase and the ceremonial hall. The atmosphere was heavy with significance, a moment that would be etched into Bihar's political history.

The room was filled with people—MLAs, senior party members, government officials, and a swarm of reporters, their cameras poised like silent witnesses. The press had never seen an oath-taking ceremony like this.

BVM wasn't just taking power. They were cementing their place in Bihar's future.

At the center of it all, standing behind the ornately carved wooden podium, was Vikram Sinha, dressed in a crisp white kurta and a deep blue Nehru jacket, the colors of BVM. His expression remained calm, but beneath the surface, he could feel the weight of what he was about to do.

To his right, the Governor of Bihar sat with a solemn expression, the official documents resting on the polished desk in front of him. The Constitution of India lay open, its pages slightly yellowed with age but carrying the full weight of democracy.

The murmurs of the gathered crowd settled as the ceremony began.

A hush fell over the hall.

The Governor cleared his throat. "Vikram Sinha," he said, his voice carrying the authority of the moment, "do you solemnly affirm that you will bear true faith and allegiance to the Constitution of India as by law established, that you will uphold the sovereignty and integrity of India, and that you will faithfully and conscientiously discharge your duties as Chief Minister of Bihar?"

The words hung in the air for a moment.

Then, Vikram spoke.

"I solemnly affirm."

The words were simple, but they carried the weight of every struggle that had led to this moment.

The Governor nodded, lifting the ceremonial pen and signing the official documents, sealing the transition of power. The hall erupted in applause, the sound crashing against the high ceilings like a storm breaking over the state.

As Vikram stepped back from the podium, shaking hands with the Governor and senior officials, the cameras flashed, capturing the exact second that Bihar changed forever.

But amidst the applause, amidst the chants of victory, Vikram knew one thing—this was only the beginning.

---

12:30 PM — Gandhi Maidan, Patna

If Raj Bhavan had been a place of formalities, Gandhi Maidan was the heart of celebration.

Tens of thousands of people had gathered in the sprawling grounds, their faces filled with hope, excitement, and an energy that Bihar had not felt in decades.

The people had come from all across the state, some traveling overnight from distant districts, just to witness the moment that BVM officially took power.

The stage, decorated with BVM's colors of saffron and deep blue, stood tall under the open sky, adorned with massive banners displaying the words—

"A New Bihar Begins."

Vikram stood before the roaring crowd, raising his hand in greeting. The applause grew deafening.

Then, as the cheers began to settle, he stepped forward and spoke for the first time as Bihar's Chief Minister.

"My brothers and sisters of Bihar," he began, his voice steady and strong, "you have not just elected a new government. You have written history."

A wave of applause rolled across the ground like thunder.

"For decades, Bihar has been called backward, left behind, ignored by those who claimed to govern it. But today, we stand here, not as beggars seeking change, but as the makers of change."

More cheers. Some people even wiped their eyes, overwhelmed by the moment.

"Our work begins today. And let me make one thing clear—this is not just BVM's victory. This is Bihar's victory."

The crowd erupted once more.

And in that moment, under the open sky of Patna, amidst the chants of a hopeful people, Bihar's new government was truly born.