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NESTLED amidst tall swaying trees on the outskirts of Madhav National Park in Shivpuri, northern Madhya Pradesh, Bombay Kothi, a quaint colonial structure, seems frozen in a different era -- an era of gracious living, when life was unhurried and people had time to see nature change its colours as it bid adieu to one season and welcomed another.

But that's a time gone by, deposited safely into history books and nostalgia.

It's February 14, 2002 and Bombay Kothi, bathed in the early morning sun, is bustling with activity. Local leaders, Congress workers, press persons are all huddled in small groups in its courtyard.

Inside, the new maharaja of Gwalior, Jyotiraditya Scindia, is ensconced with close aides working out the day's schedule as he prepares for yet another day of campaigning in the Guna parliamentary constituency, which is due for a by-election on February 21.

In the verandah outside, on a small table, stands a portrait of his father, the late Madhavrao Scindia. A plane crash on September 30 last year killed the maharaja of Gwalior, leaving his son to carry on his legacy, of which the Guna parliamentary constituency is a vital part. In the previous election, Madhavrao Scindia had won the seat very comfortably, defeating his nearest rival, Desh Raj Singh of the Bharatiya Janata Party, by a margin of over 200,000 votes.

Desh Raj Singh is once again in the contest and nobody, including his party colleagues, believes that he will fare any better against Scindia, Junior, than he did against the father. The question is, can Jyotiraditya measure up to his father? Can he surpass the margin by which Madhavrao drubbed Desh Raj Singh?

Talk to his close aides and they tell you that the young maharaja is looking far beyond that -- at the national record held by former prime minister P V Narasimha Rao.

Word arrives from inside the kothi (bungalow) that the maharaja has had his breakfast -- two scrambled eggs and a glass of fresh fruit juice -- and would be out any moment. It's 10.30am.

The schedule I was given the previous evening by one of Scindia's closest aides, Sardar Kadam, said he would leave Bombay Kothi at 0900 IST and address his first meeting at 0930 IST. He is already an hour-and-a-half behind schedule.

That's not good news for local leaders. It means that at least a few of the 10-odd meetings Scindia is scheduled to address will have to be scrapped. There is panic all around and each leader wants to send in word about how crucial it is for the maharaja to make an appearance in his/her area. Reputations are at stake -- both personal and political.

A small crowd has now gathered in the verandah. Political workers are ready with garlands. Some have gifts wrapped in shiny, colourful paper. Instructions are being issued to hired photographers for frames that could be taken back to villages as proof of their proximity to the royal family.

The door opens and Rajmata Scindia, Madhavrao's widow, steps out. Her personal guards hold the crowd at a distance as she lights a lamp in front of her husband's portrait. After accepting a few petitions from the waiting villagers she speeds away in her black Tata Safari, her security detail in tow. She will be campaigning for her son in a different area and the two will meet only at the dinner table now to exchange notes.

Minutes later, Jyotiraditya Scindia emerges. The similarity between him and the portrait in the verandah is striking. The same high-neck, buttoned-up white kurta worn with a black jacket, the same smile, the same features.

Suddenly, the national record looks achievable. For, if people see as much of Madhavrao Scindia in his son as these eyes do, it should not be difficult to translate the massive sympathy wave sweeping Guna-Shivpuri into votes.

Jyotiraditya Scindia's advisers are banking heavily on the assumption that the people of Guna-Shivpuri, keen to pay homage to a leader they loved and admired so much, will turn out in large numbers to vote on February 21. In the previous election, when Madhavrao Scindia won by a margin of over 200,000 votes, only 50 per cent of the eligible voters had exercised their franchise. This time, Congressmen believe, the voting percentage will touch 70. If that happens, and if Scindia, Junior, wins with the margin his supporters believe he can, he will prove that he may not have his father's experience in politics, but he is his father's son.

After posing briefly for pictures with party workers, the maharaja sets out in his grey Tata Safari accompanied by Sardar Kadam and his personal security guard, Balbir. It's 11.15am.

Drumbeats tell us we are near the site of a scheduled meeting. It's Village Kankar, a small hamlet that falls under the Pohri assembly constituency. Firecrackers go off as Jyotiraditya Scindia alights from his car. It isn't a big crowd -- just 250 to 300 people, but it is uncontrollable. This is the first time they have seen the new maharaja after his coronation in October, and they want to get as close to him as possible.

The list of dignitaries, the ones who will get to garland the maharaja, is read out, but nobody is listening. Scindia begins to speak, but the crowd is still restless. His repeated appeals to ammas and kakas to calm down are ignored.

Then he mentions September 30 and there is pin-drop silence. He has struck a chord. It's a short speech delivered in chaste Hindi, not a hint in it of the long years spent by Scindia at Harvard and Stanford followed by stints at Merrill Lynch, Morgan Stanley and the United Nations. He does not mention the Bharatiya Janata Party, he does not mention Desh Raj Singh, he does not mention even his own party the Congress.

All he says is that he is here to complete the work left unfinished by this father and stresses the 250 years of ties his family has had with this region and its people.

Sardar Kadam looks satisfied.

It's all over in around 10 minutes and we are on our way to the next meeting at Teela. A few local leaders have joined Scindia in his SUV and Sardar Kadam is now in our jeep. With us also is the maharaja's personal liveried valet, who is carrying his lunch, some cold drinks and mineral water.

Sardar Kadam is feverishly reworking the schedule. A local leader, he is told, is angry because his meeting has been cancelled. A wry smile breaks across Sardar Kadam's face -- the chopping and changing continues.

Between Shivpuri and Teela, Scindia's car is stopped several times by groups of 15-20 people, sometimes even less. The word is around that he is coming and people have put up makeshift arches and stages. He obliges some with a short speech, others by letting them garland him, touch him.

The same pattern continues till late afternoon -- for every scheduled meeting, he addresses six-seven unscheduled ones. We encounter some of the toughest terrain I have ever negotiated on a breakfast of butter, bread and pakoras dripping with oil. Kuchcha roads soon give way to barely motorable ones, and then to none. We cross rivers, dry riverbeds and jungles plundered by the timber mafia.

It is a great relief when the maharaja stops for a bite at around 3.30pm (some people go a long way on two scrambled eggs and a glass of fresh juice) by the roadside surrounded by lush green fields. The food is simple, nothing that one would associate with a royal repast -- mixed vegetables rolled in a roti, scrambled eggs rolled in a roti, and tomato chutney rolled in a roti. All this is washed down with chilled Coke.

Three more scheduled meetings to go -- Shrichakrapur, Bijrauni and Badarwas. But that also means at least 10 unscheduled stops. The light will soon begin to fade. But I am the only one worried. Balbir, the maharaja's personal guard, is his usual cheery self -- obviously these guys have been through this before. I am in safe hands.

We have been out in the field for over five hours now, but haven't seen a single BJP rally, not even a banner anywhere. This is clearly the mother of all one-sided contests.

Desh Raj Singh, in his speeches reported in local newspapers, has called the Guna bypoll a fight between feudalism and democracy. It may be that, but the people here, from what I have seen through the day, don't care.

By the time we reach Badarwas -- our last stop for the day -- it is well past 7pm. It is probably the best-attended meeting after Shrichakrapur.

Scindia's message remains the same, and so does the response. Clearly, the people of Guna-Shivpuri see this by-election as an opportunity to express their gratitude to the Scindia family and pay their last respects to Madhavrao.

The meeting ends, as did all others, with Jyotiraditya Scindia asking people to raise their hands as an assurance of their support to him and his party. They respond enthusiastically and the new maharaja inches closer to a record.

The people have accepted Maharaja Jyotiraditya as the political heir apparent of late Madhavrao Scindia. Another coronation awaits him on February 24.

Photographs: Pankaj Upadhyaya

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