" The ballot box is the surest arbiter of disputes among free men." ~ John Buchanan, 15th President of the US
Today, for the first time in my life perhaps, I got a taste what it feels like living in 'the largest democracy in the world'. And the experience was a mix of disillusion and wonderment. Kind of things you get to read about from the travelogues of foreigners who visit a city like Bombay and are amazed how the city that boasts of some of the most expensive real estate prices in the world also houses hundreds of thousands of people who live in abject poverty. The city that lives in swank apartments seems almost untouched and unperturbed by the city that shares the same aspirations but not the luck. Bombay was recently chosen by the Lonely Planet magazine as one of the five places in the world to 'lose yourself'. I hope this brings some tourist traffic to the city. Not many denizens would be too sure about the 'lose yourself' part. But nobody, absolutely nobody goes back untouched.
But as it is more often than not , that is not the point of the this post.
I went to a local school here to fill out an application form to get my 'VoterID' issued. In the context of 'the largest democracy in the world' it is that small card that carries your name, age, address, sex and photo that lets you in to guarded polling booths during election time, so you can exercise the most venerated adult franchise our Constitution has empowered the citizens of this country with. Your right to vote. To change the face of the country. To vote for prosperity, clean governance and efficient administration. To vote for development and social rights. To vote for a society based on principles of freedom, justice and above all the law. I was excited enough. 'I'll get those bloody blood-sucking politicians to bite dust when I press the button on the EVM, when I get my Voter ID', was what I was thinking about.
After a tiff with my mother, I stood in a line that had people from all strata of society eager to either have their Voter I-cards issued or update their and their family's status on the electoral rolls. At that moment, I remembered something I had read only in the papers and my Civics book in school. What a great leveller such a fundamental right can be. Suddenly everyone seemed equal. Well, more or less. There were some trying to get their toe in by sucking up to a constable present there. There in the heat of the afternoon sun, I was closer to the fabled 'real India' than ever before. And this place was just behind my house! The scene inside represented a typical government office. Too many 'officials', doing nothing much. Application forms just being thrown in the boxes after verifying details from another identification, usually a ration card. And the serpentine lines... When my turn came up, I was shoved aside by the person at the desk saying that I could not get the card issued unless my name figures on the voter's list of the Election Commission. And that is updated during the census, or that was what I was told. I was not too sure of that, though I could not have argued with him unless I was sure. I would be wasting his time and others' too. The 'dejected' look on my face inspired a jibe from the other fellow sitting next to him, "Ask him, is he ever going to vote?"Standing there I did not know what to say. The cynicism though uncalled for and certainly not expected, seemed rational. I stoutly replied, "Yes!" But was it what I wanted to say? I am still figuring it out. As I walked back, towards the exit, I saw an old couple, a blind man and his frail wife, being helped by the staff present there to have their photographs clicked. They were helped even by the cops to get ahead in the line and also a guy present there helped the seemingly illiterate couple fill out the form. And the thing that made me smile was the sight of a laptop being used to click those photographs. A webcam took the photos and immediately added them to the database of election rolls present on the laptop thus updating them on the fly.
At that moment, the sight of that makeshift office made a poignant picture. I wish I had my digicam with me. I began to realise what they mean when they say '...the two Indias meet...', something I never really understood before. The technological revolution that has swept the country, the poverty that still swarms it, the bureaucracy that works at its leisure, the helplessness and the resolve of the people, I saw it all, and more.
As I came out of the centre, I began to think what could the Election Commission, arguably one of India's finest institutions, do to make the process better. It could be more integrated, for one. And dispensing adequate information in the form of posters and banners at the centres. And a full time guide to help out people, especially the illiterate, with their forms, to begin with. But these are just for starters. I can think of many more things, but I'll save those for another post.
As for me, I am just waiting for the 2011 census.
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