With a heavy heart, I have to admit that on April 18 I got reduced to a minority. I was one of those dunderheads who, overcome by a false sense of self-importance, decided to junk long weekend and trudge to the polling booth to get my fingers inked.
My constituency Bangalore Central attained the dubious distinction of recording the lowest turnout in Karnataka state so far, though the second phase is pending. But it is highly unlikely any other constituency in the state would be able to replicate this under par performance. With less than 50% voters turning up, those with inked fingers got reduced to a minority. It could even give the country's voter apathy capital South Mumbai constituency a run for its money.
When I went to cast my vote this indifference was palpable though I did not make much out of it. I reached around 9.30 am and the enthusiasm of booth party workers and their willingness to help was missing.
I remember during 2014 general election the party booths were bustling with activity and booth workers were more than eager to guide voters about their serial numbers and booth numbers, often followed by a discreet message, "Please vote for Modi". During the subsequent BBMP election and the assembly election, this enthusiasm was there, though in a more diluted form.
This indifference was also visible at the polling booth. I was shocked to see that there was no one, let alone a queue. I was able to cast my vote in a jiffy, though while coming out I did notice some 4-5 people queueing up, I guess all from the same family.
I then thought I should not read too much into deserted polling booths. Probably I was lucky enough to be there during a lull period.
However, by evening I realised that the malaise of voter apathy was for real and far more widespread across the city, with the constituency where I voted being the epicentre.
Bangalore has been notorious for low turnouts. And painstaking efforts by NGOs and government officials and numerous ad blitz have over the years made little difference.
While the city, in general, is drawing flak for keeping off the polling booths, a lot of people who wanted to cast their votes were shocked to find that their names have been struck off the voter's list. And these were not even first-time voters but had voted during many elections in the past. They had not even shifted their residence to warrant deletion of names.
The officials claimed voters' list is updated on a yearly basis to account for voters who have shifted their residence or died and to delete duplicate and fake entries. This gets done under the National Electoral Roll Purification and Authentication Programme.
Looks like many bona fide voters' names too got eliminated in this 'purification' process. In Karnataka, 13.8 lakh entries got deleted since May 2018, and 5.05 lakh were from Bangalore alone
Tailpiece
Now pundits are coming up with suggestions like online voting to improve this sorry state of affairs.
Putting forth my two-bit wisdom, it won't be a bad idea to provide arrangements to absentee voters to ink their fingers near the resorts they are holidaying! It will boost tourism in the bargain.
Social media will be flooded with people posing with inked fingers in front of fancy resorts. We will have city's Page 3 glitterati posting messages like 'Just inked my finger near Orange County Kabini, now off to a coracle ride.'
If political parties can ring-fence their legislators and let them have a good time at resorts (at God knows whose money) to prevent horse-trading, why can't voters exercise their franchise amid some fun and leisure! Why should netas have all the fun!
Also Read: Random Jottings
Traffic jams may bring things to a standstill, but for most Bengalureans it is a preferred conversation starter. A myriad mix of emotions ranging from empathy, camaraderie to schadenfreude can be seen when conversations veer towards traffic bottlenecks and the time spent there during their daily commute.
It also evokes a deep sense of parochialism with people from each ward or zone proclaiming that traffic jams in their area measures highest in the misery index.
For those residing on Mysore Road nothing beats a traffic jam at Nayandahalli, those using Bannerghatta Road on a daily basis think it is the ultimate form of penance and forbearance. Those using the Whitefield Road think Kundanahalli junction is what the writers of Holy Bible had in mind when they talked about camel passing through the eye of a needle. Those residing near Hebbal think the same about Mekhri Circle.
But, however, among all these people there is a grudging consensus that Silk Board and K.R. Puram junctions are in different league and look at them with same amount of reverence as Rajinikant fans to their Thalaivar.
During my office commute I have to contend with Koramangala Sony Signal, a comparatively light weight one, but has now gathered some heft thanks to flyover work.
The ubiquitous earth movers, which seem to have already overrun half the city roads, have ensured that a major chunk in the middle of the road is not motorable and a tin sheet partition conveys they are here for a long haul.
For motorists on both sides the carriage space have come down to half of what it used to be and travel time doubled. The domino effect of this traffic bottleneck can be felt even four kilometres away at Embassy Golf Links technology park.
During peak hours the six-lane Inner Ring road has four rows of cars moving in each direction, with two-wheelers snaking through whatever little space is left. As one crosses Ejipura signal, the fight for restricted carriage space begins. Incessant honking, brinkmanship and big vehicle bullying smaller ones happen.
The passage through this stretch is also punctuated with long waits when signal turns red. This is the time to fret about getting late for office meeting, make frantic calls in this regard or more sedate pursuits such as listen to music, gaze at your phones or adjust the rear view mirror to check the make-up. Thankfully the last one is soon becoming passe, thanks to mirror app on phones.
It is also time to look at surroundings and feel rattled by the loud noise of heavy machinery, duck those seeking alms, especially the transgenders, and wait forlornly for the signal to turn green.
Tailpiece: During one such waits my attention was drawn towards a commotion in front of a shop front just after the Ejipura junction on way to Sony Signal.
A bike had rammed into another one from behind. The front wheel of that bike got stuck in the space between the rear wheel and exhaust pipe of the other one. Like two dogs trying to separate after a mating session,the two riders were frantically pulling their respective bikes in opposite directions. Both had to sweat a lot before they could accomplish it!
Also Read: Random Jottings
