At the polling booth

This morning too was the same as any other day at Mohali, but then it was the day of the 10th General Election of India from the time I was eligible to vote. After the usual morning walk, we exercised our rights to cast our vote at the polling booth at a nearby school. Each time I have voted, over all these years, I ask myself "Why is it that there is so much enthusiasm in public about elections? What exactly is that drives people like me to do it?". I, for one, may not actually, by any means be committed to voting, for instance, this time I went to vote only since we were in-station and had not much to do and moreover, election day is a government holiday. To vote whom (and why) was another dilemma that clouded my silly mind this time. Strong leadership inspires me surely but to be strong at the behest of communities does not behoove my consciousness. I also had the predicament of a lack of choices as alternatives. NOTA as a choice was not too convincing too! Democracy and so is voting, not only a right but also a responsibility. Electing our representative without coercion but influence alone is indeed the right path. And that is exactly why we stood in the queue for more than one and a half hours, in not a very convenient environment, nevertheless to ink our fingers, despite the apprehensive thoughts in mind. 

And there were discussions, whisperings, and declarations galore amongst the people in our polling lineup, about the reasons for voting from what I could gather from the conversation that I pertly eves dropped on. A super excited lady, who had migrated from Himachal Pradesh and now settled in Mohali was full of vengeance for the ruling dispensation and used the voting as revenge! A few were just seeing it as a routine which was supposed to be a rule. Meanwhile, others were finding ways and means to circumvent the long line in one subtle way or the other. To counter the indiscipline, some 'born leaders' in the long line of people took the opportunity to make sure that none broke the line, not even the senior citizens who were rightly asking for a separate line. Must add that the 'born leaders' were into their 70s as well making them senior citizens too!

Anyway, it took about 5 minutes for us to cast our votes on the ever-controversial EVMs (more so for the losers) after we entered the polling booth, where utterly uninterested authorities first checked our identity with the voter slip and then marked our fingers most draconianly and guided us to press the button of our choice to seal the fate of the contestants. I am not too 'convinced' when it comes to electronics since I have an inherent feeling that it can be manipulated by a smart ass but then I use eBanking nowadays with aplomb and feel secure too but anyways, there is a hitch (reluctance would be a better word for the lack of choice) deep down, and that remains for the EVMs too. The sight of the print on VVPAT (Voter Verifiable Paper Audit Trail) machine gave some momentary solace - funny eh!

Just another moment of utter disgusting incident 'an act of the privileged' occurred right in front of our eyes. While the senior citizen's line was being debated by the people in the queue, there came a request from the local Block Officer, who incidentally had helped us all in our society in getting the voter card issued, asking for special permission for two senior citizens who had some problem with their spine and were not in a position to stand in line. He announced aloud "I am sure you would not have an objection to allowing the two to vote out of line?" Understandably, all and sundry were quick to nod positively. As luck would have it, me and Mickoo were too asked to enter the polling booth at that very moment. Well, I saw no apparent signs of discomfort watching the 'spine-injured' retired army couple giggling and walking as any normal person crawling in the line they avoided and getting their index finger marked. I squirmed within myself and kept my big mouth shut. Then suddenly, the lady (who seemed to be more in control of the whole scenario and the one who seemingly might have put across the word to the BLO), whispered something into his ears and I heard him saying sharply "No madam, that would not be possible and he needs to come only in the queue as all those who are standing for a while now". Hearing this the lady said to her husband "What nonsense is this, how does just one more person matter at all". Cheeky she was and I wanted to put my two cents worth but then I knew very well that it would only ultimately affect me more than anyone else and so kept quiet. Having said that, it is a disgrace to the society that we live in!

Lo and behold, we came out wryly smiling with sweats on our brows and a sense of pride that despite all the odds, which weren't many, with a sense of bravado that essentially had no explicable reasons thereof. We then started for our pre-decided sojourn into the mountains to escape the very strong summers in the plains of the entire northern India, this time towards the 7 hours of nice drive to the quaint little town of Thuner near Tehri in Uttarakhand -  a place which inspired me to write this little piece.