It was merely a shiny day, but a significant one. Maybe only for those who took out time to play with a few buttons. For me, this “game of buttons” was going to decide nothing. The intelligentsia calls it polls or elections. They say this is how we would get a “democratic” society. Sorry, I mean we would get a democracy. Umm, maybe the former one was correct? It’s hard to visualise democracy. I get confused with its form. Should I use it as a noun or transform it into an adjective with glittering words like “democratic society”, “democratic nation”, “democratic state” and so on?
That day, I didn’t care for such grammatical play. For me, what mattered the most was pleasant sleep and a smoother lifestyle. Last night was one such when I had a good sleep. So the next morning, I decided to take a walk to the nearby school ground. Seeing a long queue at the government school, I realised it was the day of those freaky buttons. I smiled to myself and decided to join the line for a few minutes. Maybe it was the curiosity to know what those people were thinking while exercising their so-called “right” to press the buttons. I went there and stood just behind a gentleman. He was taller than me and had a sharply trimmed beard. With sunglasses on his head, surely not using them as anti-glare. Such an attire fired my curiosity.
Without wasting any time, I inquired “If it would take longer to reach the desk?”. He looked at my eyes and then immediately towards my shoes. Skipping the whole me and then started the infamous sarcastic scan from my shoes to my hair. And said, “No Idea!”. I wasn’t expecting an answer that short, so I asked bluntly, “Whom are you going to vote for?” While proudly shifting his voter ID to the front pocket of his shirt, he replied with a non-living noun (probably a party symbol) which came as another surprise as I always thought the elections were about humans. Aren’t they? I replied with an expression as if it was so obvious to me.
As soon as I started inquiring about the candidate he was voting for, the man started ignoring me. Soon I realised if I need to keep on enjoying the breeze of my curiosity, I should not be so direct. I bet it almost felt as if I was on a date. I started wooing him with flowery questions. Pointing towards the booth building, I asked, “What kind of a building it is?”. He laughed and said with a wicked smile “This is Lal Bahadur Shashtri Public School. Couldn’t you see the board and see the numerous posters and drawings by the talented children”.
He replied arrogantly, adding to my already expanding embarrassment. So this time I decided to counter him. Sarcastically I asked, “Seriously? Talented children in government schools?” He came up with a thrashing reply, proudly telling that his daughter who studies in the same school, had recently bagged a gold medal in the State Chess Championship. Now the trail of embarrassment was unstoppable for me.
As the sun shifted our shadows a bit more, the man started feeling its heat more than that of the elections. He sipped water meticulously as if he was counting every drop. Seeing him drink from his bottle, I also felt thirsty. I asked, “If I could have a few sips”. Within no time, I heard a big “NO”. After a few minutes of silence, he justified “There is no fixed time of polls getting finished; therefore, it is necessary to have a bottle in reserve ”. Even if I assured him of getting it refilled from the nearby school taps, he was not convinced.
He showed me how dirty the taps were looking and also reminded me of my assumption of ‘working taps’. In the very next moment, I asked how come his little daughter arranged her daily water needs in the school. He seemed perplexed and his face was expressionless. It appeared, he had never thought about it and had never asked her daughter. He said, “We ensure that she takes a water bottle every day”. But this time, his answer lacked the initial intensity to counter me maybe because he was well aware of the fact that a small bottle was not enough for her. Perhaps he was lying to cover up his ignorance.
But he was performing his “moral duty” as a parent well in the eyes of society. I noticed a change in his demeanour. He was staring at the taps with a chain of criticism. I asked, “Why are you so worried your daughter doesn’t even use these taps?” He said he was worried about other children who used the taps, and not about his daughter. But his expressions and worrying lines convinced me not to be convinced.
A loud sound interrupted our discourse. A carpenter was hammering the old planks inside the school campus. This added to the frustration of the man. He shouted, “Couldn’t you see the ongoing election process? Postpone your work for the time being!” The carpenter replied, “It is this day when I could carry on the repair work. Students use these benches for studying on the rest of the days”. The man was in shock; he didn’t expect those weak planks to be the benches! He was silent and looked at me. I said, “Let him do the work; it will only help your daughter”. The man took another long sip of water. But this time, it was definitely not the thirst.
He said, “The school authorities should arrange new benches for the children.” I counselled him, by convincing that his vote would definitely make a difference. His party would work for education as per the manifesto. He exclaimed, “Manifesto?” I replied, “Yes, doesn’t your party have education in its manifesto?” I just used the basic theory of my school days. It was so bookish on my part! But it wasn’t the same for him. The man didn’t reply and remained silent for another ten minutes. I could only hear my echoing voice, asking him if he was okay. I got the essence that he didn’t anticipate his daughter to be learning in such an environment. Either he was seeing it for the first time or had accepted the premise as a visiting proud parent, but not as a responsible citizen.
Suddenly, I heard the polling officer calling the man. I directed him towards the officer by lifting my eyebrows. We were just at the doorstep of the booth. This increased my anxiety since I was not there to vote. Before, I could think of any excuse. “Damn! I forgot my Voter ID at home. I need to get it immediately”, said the man. Without wasting any time, he rushed towards the exit to get his card. The polling officer tried assuring him that he need not stand in the queue, and they would let him get directly to the desk when he is back. But, the man seemed to have no value for the officer’s offer. This scene made my mind a little fuzzy, and I left the desk without making any excuse.
As I went outside the school and turned my eyes towards the man, who was quite far, I realised that his pace was now snailish. His eyes were fixed on the ground while he was walking towards his home. I decided not to follow him. And also not to care about his return. I could see the fallen bottle on the ground. The water, which was so precious a few minutes ago, now seemed like a mirage in a desert. But soon the man had forgotten all about it.
In the end, the only thing I could remember was the front pocket of his shirt. I guess the pole of embarrassment was reversed.