09.00 AM
I am in this place called Aurangabad from
last 1 year. A few months back, the Election Commission (EC) people came to
register our name in voter’s list. My wife, for reasons known to her, shooed
away the EC guys. Later she claimed that, she thought they were on voting
campaign. This created a lot of furore in my mind because I am 37 years old,
hold a valid Indian passport and yet I have never voted in my life. I hate
politics. I hate politicians even more. But I love my country and want it to
develop. And in a democracy, you can do it only by participating in a fair
called election in which you choose the right person or party that can bring in
the change (I know honest politician is an oxymoron)
10.00 AM
Armed with this logic (and the fact that I
do not have my name in voter’s list), I went on a mission to cast my vote on
the Election Day. Actually it was a holiday and I did not have anything else to
do. I don’t know why the govt declares holiday on Election Day. It hardly takes
30 min to cast a vote, yet you are given a full day off – may be to ponder over
the right candidates for 7½ hrs or simply as a perk of a democracy. I really
pity the guys in Afghanistan or China where they do not have elections. Anyway,
having nothing else to do and after bickering with wife for chasing away the EC
guys who came to enlist us on voter’s list a few months ago, I set on a mission
to vote. Earlier in the day, I read in the newspaper that if you have a valid
passport, you can vote even if your name is not there in the voter’s list. I
went to the polling booth closest to my home. It was a dilapidated govt office
building. There were 3 or 4 odd guys standing outside each of the booths. At
the entrance of the booth (makeshift office room), a goon like person looks for
the name of next voter in the voter’s list. He then asks for an ID and if the
actual face resembles the photo ID by say 3%, the voter is allowed to go
inside. Looked pretty simple and thought I will show him my eligibility as per the
newspaper and the passport (where my face matches the photograph by almost 90%)
giving me the opportunity to vote for the first time in life. I stood in the
shortest line. To honour Murphy and his stupid laws, the line moved at the
slowest possible speed. When my turn came, I told my name and he started
looking on the list. I told him that my name may not be there in the list and
showed him the newspaper article along with the passport. He gave a look that
he normally must be giving to people who annoys him in his loo. He told me that
this is a sub-booth and such monkey business (of allowing people based on
newspaper article & passport), if at all allowed, is allowed in the main
voting centre for my area.
11.30 AM
1 hrs later, after 3 rounds of clarifications,
I located the voting centre for my area. It was a govt primary school and most
of the political parties had a makeshift office (a table, some water, lot of
pamphlets, and some goons in white dress & gold chain). The place was
bizarrely crowded. I had to park my vehicle at least a km ahead as the road was
blocked with police vans and bikes. Just as I was wondering whom to contact and
where to ask, a van with a red light arrived. Apparently it was packed lunch
for the EC staff and the police on duty. What followed for next 30 min is
beyond description. I should have carried a camcorder to record the ensuing
madness. After 45 minutes, the place was filled with litters. I noticed a group
of potbellied policemen sitting on a two wheeler who were having tobacco and a
little fun. They were sitting right behind 2 lady constables who were
controlling the queue and one of them had a very well endowed rear. I
immediately understood the butt of their frolic and decided to take help of
these jolly folks. As I moved towards them, 3 goons from different angles
surrounded me and demanded my name. They were all carrying a voter’s list. They
were actually from the political parties and were trying to find if I was a
prospective voter. If yes, they normally coax, instruct or threaten you to vote
for a particular candidate depending on your meekness or lack of it. I was not
aware of this practice and mistaken it as group of rather helpful EC agents.
When I told them my name, all them went on a frantic search mode in the list
they had. After several rounds of clarification regarding my name, surname,
spelling etc they realised that my name was not there in the list. I still
shiver when I talk about the look the guys gave me and abuses they hurled on me
when I told my story. One of the jolly policemen heard the commotion and till
this day I thank him for saving me from that group. He made some “hoi” kind of
a noise and these goons disappeared (the way they appeared) – may be on lookout
for their next prey. (note to self -
“Hoi” must be a powerful local word)
12.30 PM
When I explained my situation to the horny
cops, they told me that I should meet the EC officer in-charge for that centre.
The officer was sitting on another makeshift office (table, 2 chairs, empty tea
glasses, 2 files). He heard my story, gave a very annoying look, saw my
passport, checked the address mentioned in my passport with a list in his file
and then called an assistant. Apparently, there is a master list where they
have all the names and the voter’s list is prepared from the same based on EC
house verification. The officer told me that such a master list existed with
the main EC officer (in-charge for many such centres) and the assistant would guide
me on how to find the same. So a shabby looking assistant took me to a lady who
was sitting on a Jeep just outside the centre. She was an assistant to the main
officer. The first assistant explained the case to the lady assistant and left.
The lady assistant was good looking and from what could I see from outside –
she had a killer physique. She was smart. Very well dressed for a place like
that (tight shirt, tight pant ...you get the drift). She spoke to me in
English. God there were still some sensible guys in the govt who recruited such
sexy officers. Anyway, she confirmed that such a list did exist and if my name was
on the same, I could vote. For the first time in the entire day, I saw a ray of
hope. I requested her to check the same at once so as to complete the great
task of voting. She looked at me as if I have asked her to remove her clothes
(it was a different story that at the same very moment, she found me ogling at
her assets thru the corner of my eyes). Anyway, she told me that the list was
available in the main city office. It is a computerised list and hence won’t
take much time to search but would need the main officer’s permission to do so.
And the main officer, who was lucky enough to have an assistant officer like
her, was on his regular round of other centres. There were 7 such centres and
he should be back in an hour
14.00 PM
Finally his highness arrived. He gave a
wonderful smile to his lovely assistant and straightway boarded the jeep. The
lady explained my case. For the first time again, I got a sympathetic look. I
realised later that he sympathised my foolishness of going to such extends just
to vote. In as many words, he told me that one vote anyway does not make much difference
to the system and hence I should enjoy the holiday rather than wasting my time.
I insisted on exercising my right to vote. He insisted that I was a moron.
Finally he called me to his office at 3 pm to look into the matter. Exasperate,
I returned home only to find that there was no lunch for me. I cursed myself,
took bath and grabbed some leftover before dashing off to the EC office
15.15 PM
No sign of his highness. The office was
virtually empty as everybody went on election duty. Having nothing else to do but
wait, thought about the lovely assistant to kill some time. Fantasised about
some choicest foreplays in great details. Just when I was about to move into
the main act, the jeep arrived. The officer (along with a group but without the
lovely assistant) went inside his room without eyeing me. All of a sudden an
orderly appeared and stopped me from entering the officer’s cabin. Thirty
agonising minutes later, the group left and I made my entry. It took 10 minutes
to re-explain my case. He took 5 more minutes to re-insist that I was a moron. Finally
he asked me to fill a form and meet one Mr. Sharma in the next big room.
16.30 PM
I filled up the form and met Mr. Sharma.
Sharmaji was a nice gentleman who seemed to like his job which till that time
looked to me as sleeping. He took one long and one hard look at the form, brought
a rickety PC to life and began the eternal search of my name in the holy books
of the divine body called Govt of India. A nice anticlimax – the list is 2
years old and names of people like me would appear in the list only during next
update, due every 3 years. I thanked him, went home, apologised to my wife and
jotted down the moral of the story.
17.30 to 22.30 PM – Moral of the story
- Now I know why it has to be a public holiday on the day of election. You are supposed to enjoy this day. Normally it is a dry day. So make it a point to stock up the previous day.
- It is better to absolve voting responsibilities rather than voting and then repenting in realisation that one vote does not really make any difference
- The entire brouhaha about exercising ones voting rights is bullshit. Those columnist either inherited the voter’s list or never voted in their life
- Voting does not make any difference. No matter whom you vote, finally a corrupt goon becomes minister
- When it comes to voting or any facets of life, wives are the best decision makers. They are smarter than us and most of the experience come naturally to them which we men learn the hard way
- It is better to learn local words like “Hoi” than learning the political scenario of India
- Don’t undermine the govt officers. Some of them are really hot
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