Thursday, March 12, 2009

the dance of democrazy

i marvel at the fervour that ordinary Indians exhibit in wanting to vote. while the comfortable classes have just now found it fashionable to espouse universal adult franchise, the common man and woman are uncommonly diligent. scene at ward no. 70, shantinagar. the very same place where i found myself in tears last year where despite brandishing my brand new voters ID card, i did not find my name on the list. i was surprised at the strength of my own feeling of deprivation. a couple of days ago, i heard that the list of voters was up at the ward office . the scene was as chaotic - a couple of mild people could not control anyone who snatched various sections of the list to eagerly scan for their names. housewives, old men, busy working people like me who have snatched a crucial half hour off in the morning hoping to avoid queues - the variety of people who want to vote with no urging is amazing.

my 18 year old son was keen to register himself too - gung ho about being a first time voter and we found ourselves redirected to Mayo hall. to save time, we downloaded the form, filled it and leaving him to study for his board exams, i set off to submit the form. reaching the booth, i was told to get a xerox of the filled -up form ( why was this not mentioned on the website? off i went to the other side of the building, and stood in line to hand it over. then i gingerly mentioned that my name was not in the list. the man guffawed and told me to check on the computer inside. if it was not on the list, i would have to register all over again." this time, come with the xerox copy" he he". 

two young guys sat cramped in an airless office, the old ceiling fan hung motionless from the high ceiling. while the rest of us lined up, a society dowager with ayah in tow, scorned the masses. she clutched a chair and kept repeating every few minutes, " please check for my name". i exercised strong self restraint and quelled the urge her to get outside and join the line. mercifully, my turn came quickly; the youth listened smilingly when i told hi my tale of woe. " my voters Id has my dad's name as my husband; puts me on a street that i do not know; but i don't mind - i just want to find my name". he clicks , finds nothing. senses my anxiety and smiles again . and presto - my name comes up. he scribbles on a piece of paper and says," madam, on election day, go with this paper and your voters ID card. don't worry this time you can vote". 

despite the bitter burden of our politicians, isn't it marvellous that so many of us still believe in our power to change? Jai Hind!