Nation or nullah : A voter’s dilemma

It was a bright sunny day- not that we needed it though. But the heat wasn’t going to suck out my spirit of participating in the world’s biggest election. I voted and am not sure if I did the right thing.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not a wannabe-Pappu who can’t vote, saala. On the contrary, give me an election every day and I will offer my feet fingers for the indelible ink once the ones in my hand are all blotched!

I am not even a frustrated Mumbaiwallah who went for adventure sports on voting day, realizing that the choices on the EVMs would give him leaders he couldn’t trust his house keys with!

What I did on the day of reckoning was quite unthinkable- something that shocked me. Having stood through a small queue to cast my ballot, braving the sun and the oily conversation of the ladies before me who were debating the virtues of using soda for preparing lip-smacking chhole (some useful tips that I later shared with mom only to hear from her, ‘Now that you know it, please cook it.’), I pressed the wrong button on the right machine- there were three machines and I had to steady my sun stroked head to identify my choice from among 41 candidates.

I clicked on the button I didn’t intend to. And it wasn’t the sun or chhole talk to be blamed.

Only when I heard the beep after pressing the blue button did I realize what I had done. Now, being in the profession that often tries to educate people on things as varied as Katrina’s bikini and Deve Gowda’s sleepy tryst with destiny, I had given a lot of thought on whom to vote for.

On the one hand was a flamboyant lawyer-politician with the gift of gab that he often displays on TV shows, is a senior minister who is also the incumbent from my newly formed constituency; on the other hand was a local politician, who has worked in the municipal body and probably knows every open gutter in the area- as also why it is left exposed.

So it was between a national leader and a politician close to gutter..err..ground realities of his constituency. In short, between the nation and the open nullah that has troubled many a nose in my area with powerful wisps of smelly currents.

In a parliamentary poll, the above problem perplexes not only the voters but even the political masters. What will people vote for or against? Will local issues take precedence over national concerns? Which direction will the wind blow and sweep away whom?

This dilemma of voters often leads to confused campaigning by parties and hence ambiguous results from an already fractured electorate. While the incumbent from my area stressed on how India had crossed new space frontiers, the opposition stressed on the legendary congestion that clutters the area’s development agenda. The latter refused to touch national issues after last year’s Assembly polls wiped them out as they harped on terrorism- a national issue that was mistakenly raked up in a purely local contest. Therefore, the about turn in strategy!

This problem lead to a meager turnout even in post 26/11 Mumbai. While the citizens of the financial capital were distressed at the flagrant storming of their sense of secure comfort, their disillusionment with politicians, courtesy their scant regard for garbage dumps and better roads, lead them to do a Pappu.

In a country where it is mostly the rural masses that have a decisive force, the issues taken up by political parties vary from rally to rally. While in central Delhi, Sonia Gandhi praised the Congress government in Delhi for the metro trains, in far-flung and sensitive Nandigram she tore through the Left rule in the state. So while you may have been moved by the Indo-US nuclear deal, most of the votes cast will be about roti, kapda aur makaan- something that should be the immediate concern of local governments.

Makes one wonder what the real issue is. What makes the choice tougher is the post-poll scenario that will depend on numbers each party or front has- all other issues, ideologies and affiliations which the electorate considers will be disregarded to cobble up a coalition government.

The numbers ofcourse also depend on the caste of the candidate, his religion and, in some cases, if he has distributed any money in these recession-hit times.

In such a scenario, I thought, it would be wise to not be disturbed about who the next PM will be and vote for someone who will effectively take my voice to the Parliament.

But, as I approached the EVM, it appeared that a spot light of ‘Nation First’ and ‘Every Vote Matters’ was glowing upon me and in the rush of the moment, I voted for the candidate I didn’t want to see in office. It was the first time that I voted for that party and don’t know if I did the right thing.

Since there was no rigging at my middle-class polling booth, there will be no re-take and so the dye is cast. I have a sense that the incumbent may scrape through, with my little help contributing to his victory. If it is his party that comes to power, he will continue to remain a minister and there is little chance he will visit my neigbourhood until the hustings call five years later. Till that time, I will have to live with the smelly nullah.