Dear Nishant Babu,
Welcome to the world of politics — a playground where your father always played on the front foot, shaping destinies with a single decision. And welcome, too, to the world of dynastic politics — the very phenomenon your father and his allies publicly disowned, yet quietly ensured that the ladder remained firmly in place for their own. Power, after all, is a habit. And habits rarely retire.
You may walk into the room and be offered a cushioned seat, but don’t mistake comfort for acceptance. In the fiercely competitive political landscape of Bihar, nothing is handed over without a price. The first people baying for your blood will not be your opponents — it will be your own extended political family especially your uncles and some who have waited for decades for the same spotlight you now inherit by birthright.
You have grown up watching politics not on television, but across your dining table. You’ve seen the whispers, the alliances, the betrayals, the midnight phone calls, the sudden reshuffles — all from the front row. Now you step into the rough and tumble yourself, where every smile hides a calculation and every handshake measures your worth.
Patrick French once observed that nearly every young MP under 30 had inherited a seat. That 65% of those between 31 and 40 came from political families. And more than a third of those between 41 and 50 carried a legacy. So yes — lineage and age are on your side. But lineage is only an entry pass. It is not a guarantee of survival.
Because here’s the truth no one tells you: Legacy opens the door. Merit keeps you inside. And politics has a brutal way of exposing those who mistake inheritance for competence.
Welcome to the arena — a place where power is temporary, alliances are fragile, and respect is earned one battle at a time.
Regards,
Deepak Sukhadia