It wasn’t a usual morning, it was the Election Day in my state (Tamil Nadu), I consider it as one of the most important days in my personal calendar, of course, after all it is not every day that you get to change Governments, isn’t it.
My brother woke me at around 7 30 in the morning, our plan was to enter the polling booth as early as possible, primarily for two reasons, one, the Q would really get long as it gets late, two, it is the month of April, the Sun comes to duty as early as 9 in the morning.
I brushed my teeth and was going through The New Indian Express, the only paper that I trust. I read the express not just for news but for its views and distinguished columns in the editorial which echo’s honest opinions. I enjoyed every sip of my morning Tea, prepared with mashed ginger, fresh leaves of thulasi and cardamom, yes, I prefer making my own tea. I have always believed that I craft a unique blend which is not so easy to replicate. A cup of Tea prepared even in the finest restaurant, fails to impress me.
Are you ready? I am leaving in 5 mins, get ready if you wish to join me, warned my brother from the other end of the house, fine, I shall get ready in 10 mins, I retorted.
Mom was busy cooking, so myself and bro started off to exercise our fundamental / constitutional right. We chose to walk as we weren’t sure if we could park our vehicle near the polling booth, moreover, a walk was an obvious choice since it was so pleasant in the morning, coupled with the fact that the polling booth was pretty close from where we put up.
It was quite a shocker when I saw a long Q in the booth, we never expected such a monstrous Q as the Booth was supposed to open only by 8 and we were there by 8 15, though I was happy for the fact that people consider voting a serious business. We got to see quite a few familiar faces, shared pleasantries.
Not knowing how to kill time while in Q, my eyes spotted a beautiful girl :), she was in a parallel Q, must be around 20, she was wearing a half white salwar, her hair was wet, she must have taken head bath, she looked really fresh, her round face was so fresh so clean, I wish I too had taken bath :P.
The scene out there was so poetic and beautiful, as the Sun was yet to kick off. I could feel the morning breeze, her hair was flowing in the air like waves in the deep blue sea, she had to set them right with her fingers every now and then. Those little unconscious deeds of girls always fascinate me, it is a pleasure to watch those cute, semiconscious natural gestures of a pretty women, of course without being noticed, there is no point if the girl gets conscious, in that case you only make them uncomfortable. Unfortunately her Q happened to move fast and soon she disappeared :(.
I started observing people in the booth (its one amongst my long list of hobbies), as it helps me to come up with better write ups. There were a lot of senior citizens around, one amongst them was constantly cribbing that there was no separate Q for senior citizens, another one who stood before me responded that there is no separate Q as such. He turned back to me and said “boy, I am 90 yrs old and I don’t feel the need for a separate Q, I am hale and healthy, I could even run at this age”. I smiled at him in sheer admiration, he too smiled.
He was a tall gentleman, didn’t talk much unlike other oldies, who were either cursing the system or cribbing about the atrocities of Gen X. He was quite fair with wrinkles all around his face, he is indeed 90 yrs old. He was patiently waiting for his turn, calm and composed, I could notice him carrying 2 voter id’s and booth slips with him, must be his wife’s, I thought, but he was all alone, might be his wife would join him in the Q, I thought so.
The Q was moving slow, but steady. Me and my bro were indulged in miscellaneous discussions like the political scene in TN, whether or not the ruling DMK has any chance of coming back to power, the opposition and its alliance, fate of independent candidates, 49 O etc. The old gentleman in front of us was a silent spectator but made a few remarks here and there.
Finally, as we entered the Voting ballot, I noticed that along with the Voter id and booth slip, the old man was carrying his wife’s death certificate as well, I was puzzled. He turned to the Polling officer, handed his wife’s booth slip and said, "Sir, my wife is dead and here is her death certificate, somehow her name appears in the voters list, strike her name off and make sure that her Vote isn't misused”.
I stood amazed by the act of this old gentleman, it was my turn to cast my Vote. I am sure this would send the right message to people who consider election day as just another holiday.
Jai Hind
