Disenfranchised

It is considered to be one of the biggest undertakings in the world. Seven hundred million people come together to make a decision. A decision that drives one of the greatest gatherings of humans on this planet. Five days spread across a month, resulting in a select few people chosen to rule and govern the second most populous country here on Earth.

It has been five years since the last such exercise. Five years in which a jumble of people with mixed ideologies, and different sets of promises fought together for their way of doing things. Given recent scenarios, five years, although the stipulated term, was indeed a long time.

Normally, such events pass by the average person, as he looks on with apathy at the state of affairs, and has no hope of inducing change. Normally, the choice is between a rock and a hard place. Normally, this choice just doesn't make sense. This time around, there was a drive. A desire. Something had shaken the people, and there was a determination in participating in this electoral ballet.

I too had decided to help in making this decision. This being the second time in casting the ballot, and the first one having gone smoothly, I expected no trouble at all. As usual, this country decided to surprise me. Much to my dismay, and frustration, my name had been deleted from the voter's list. More so, I was not the only one who suffered such a shock. Half the buildings in the colony where I live, suffered this same fate. Don't get me wrong. My name was present on the annexure, but, it was also graced by a mark in red, deleted. A reason could not be determined. A complaint was lodged to the overseer of the elections in the area, no less. Yet there was nothing to be done. Reading a news report later, it seems this will be rectified in time for the local elections in a few months time.

A day after this exercise, the media is afloat with shock and dismay. "The city which was angry at its treatment, sleeps when it matters", they say. "A long weekend, coupled with a heat wave, keeps city slickers away", says another. When rural India sends 60% of its population to the polls, there is no excuse that a city as educated as this one, should send only 40%. Even the celebrities were in a state of shock. They had flown back to the city to cast their ballots, and yet the common man had let them down.

If only, there were a voice stronger than the individual common man. This voice would let it be known, that an interesting play with lists of names could very well be the cause of a low turnout.