Casting one's vote is an experience

Post-elections, millennials proudly displayed the indelible ink stain on their index fingers. It is a mark of visible adulthood for these youngsters, as they get to be treated as mature thinking citizens at 18.

Whether all of them are sensitive to the pathos and ethos of the politics reigning in the country is a debatable issue. My close friend was married in her teens more than three decades ago.

She laughingly said then, "Husbands generally tend to project their wives as sweet teens feeling proud of this fact. Mine seems different. He has enrolled me in the electoral list quoting my age as 21, a good three years north".

Fortunately, the electoral list was not a permanent document and my friend got to be her correct age in other official records. Despite her husband's "best" efforts she did not get to vote that season as she was busy writing her degree exams elsewhere, and indeed the hubby was a disappointed person as he had intended to influence her vote in favour of his beloved party.

Although some electoral pockets may see empty booths, the enthusiasm displayed by citizens to cast the vote is indeed remarkable. Recently a relative was at her wits end to work out a solution as her husband, who suffers from old age arthritis and walks only with the aid of crutches.

He was hell bent on casting his vote.

Later she narrated that party workers had ferried her and the husband in an auto to the booth gate, and from there he was transported in a wheelchair to the booth to cast his precious vote.

It is observed in general that avidity to cast one's vote is seen in the first timers, as well as the super seniors, who perhaps expect it to be their last time.

The population in between is torn between the choice of idling in the cool comforts of the house enjoying the free holiday or standing in the long queue in sizzling summer to do their duty by exercising their right.

Enterprising amongst them select a certain time slot when they are sure the crowd will be minimal. Then off they dash away, do the needful and are back within the shortest time possible.

My close relative, never an early riser on a holiday, on that ballot day willed himself to rise before 7, visited the ballot centre - fortunately nearby for him - cast his vote, returned and lay between the sheets once again! I decided to choose the siesta time and discovered that let alone a queue there were hardly any people around.

The venue was the very classroom of the college I used to visit as a teacher a few years ago and as I entered I almost expected the students to stand up and welcome me.

We were in and out of the centre within a few minutes. The husband lauded me for my choice of timing and I felt like an elated student at his rare praise.