Kolkata: May 4th, 2026.
The morning felt heavy.
It was counting day for the West Bengal Assembly elections. From early morning itself, there was tension in the air across Kolkata and the districts. Tea stalls were fuller than usual. TVs had been switched on before breakfast. People spoke softly, carefully.
For weeks, the atmosphere had been building towards this day.
After the SIR, adjudications, deletions, and all the confusion and panic among voters, the Election Commission kept bringing new restrictions one after another. Hundreds of companies of central forces had been brought into the state along with armoured vehicles. After voting on 29th April in Kolkata, stories and rumours spread quickly. CCTV cameras outside strong rooms suddenly going off. Electricity failures. Attempts to enter strong rooms. Ballot boxes being moved from one place to another. Vehicles being checked everywhere. Restrictions on bikes and pillion riding.
Nobody knew what was true and what was rumour. But together they created anxiety.
So on this day, many people avoided going to work. Some parents did not send their children to school. Markets opened cautiously. People feared something might happen. The only question was how much.
Exit polls had already predicted a BJP victory. Some even spoke of a landslide. But Bengal had seen such predictions fail before, especially in 2021, so many people did not fully trust them. Others simply stayed silent.
From the morning itself, families sat glued to televisions, laptops and mobile phones. News channels started flashing trends surprisingly early, almost before proper counting had begun. In some constituencies, even the first rounds were not complete, yet channels had already started speaking with certainty.
By noon, counting in some seats had yet to begin, but several anchors were already speaking as though the election was over.
Studios had turned into celebration grounds.
On some channels, the excitement was impossible to miss. Anchors shouted over one another while saffron graphics flashed on the screens. It no longer sounded like neutral reporting. It sounded personal.
Repolls had already been ordered in some areas before counting day itself. In one constituency, fresh polling was scheduled weeks later, meaning the final result there would also come much later. That added even more uncertainty and suspicion.
TV Studios Celebrated Before Bengal Counting Was Complete
Then came the first videos.
Small clips started circulating on social media. BJP supporters were allegedly attacking TMC offices. Workers were being beaten or chased away. Flags were being removed and replaced. At first, many people thought these were isolated incidents.
But the videos kept increasing.
As the BJP’s lead kept growing, panic spread among many TMC workers around counting centres. Some reportedly left quietly, not wanting confrontation once the mood outside started changing.
And then the results started becoming official.
Seat after seat.
Constituency after constituency.
Margins beyond what most people had imagined.
Even some of the strongest TMC faces were losing.
The political shock slowly turned into unease.
People opposed to the BJP became unusually subdued. Discussions inside homes became softer. Relatives called each other asking the same thing:
“What is happening there?”
Soon reports started coming in. Some verified, many unconfirmed. Attacks. Vandalism. Threats. Rumours of mosques and minority areas being targeted. Whether true, exaggerated or false, they deepened the tension.
For the next two to three days, Kolkata felt different. Shouts of “Jai Shri Ram” were heard constantly in many areas. TMC offices were vandalised in several places. Party flags disappeared overnight, and saffron flags appeared in their place. Local workers and leaders started changing sides. Some out of political calculation. Some perhaps out of fear.
Social media became a world of its own.
Some celebrated the victory. Some shared videos of violence. Some mocked people changing flags and loyalties. Some were shocked at how swiftly everything was unfolding. Many simply watched in silence.
Bengal Violence Videos Flooded Social Media After Results
Warnings spread quickly through WhatsApp groups and phone calls.
“Don’t go out unnecessarily.”
“Avoid going out late at night.”
“Stay away from sensitive areas.”
Markets became emptier after sunset. People hurried home earlier than usual.
Surprisingly, in some places, bulldozers appeared. Old names were reportedly removed from signboards. New banners with new names suddenly appeared, making many wonder whether they had already been prepared beforehand.
Throughout all this, videos repeatedly showed police and central forces standing nearby while mobs shouted slogans, attacked political workers, broke furniture, ransacked offices and in some places even set party offices on fire.
As the days passed, another side of society also became visible.
The speed with which people, workers and even local leaders switched loyalties surprised many.
Fear, calculation, survival, opportunism, excitement, revenge, silence — all seemed to exist together at the same time.
Perhaps moments like these reveal the true condition of a society more than ordinary times do. People quietly realised how suddenly political certainty can disappear.
Bengal’s Political Shift Left Ordinary People Deeply Uncertain
For many, the events of those few days were not merely about election results. They became a reminder of how fragile normalcy can actually be.
In those moments, one could not help remembering the promises with which the country had begun its journey — justice, liberty, equality and fraternity.
And yet, with every passing election, it often feels as though society is moving further away from those very ideals.
Ordinary people slowly get pushed into situations they neither imagined nor desired, often in the name of politics, power and vested interests.
For BJP supporters, it felt like a long-awaited political victory.
For opponents, it felt like the collapse of a familiar world.
And for ordinary people watching Bengal change in real time, those days felt less like election results and more like the beginning of a completely new and uncertain chapter.
