The Mock of Democracy

Despite the number of ads floating in the print and visual medium exhorting us citizens to exercise our right to vote, I will now confess that I have never voted and will not be voting this year as well. Before all of you decry me as a worthless and complacent citizen, let me quickly inform you that this not because of any political apathy but due to the lack of the essential tool needed to exercise this right - the voter ID card.

Sometime last year when the government started the extensive task of checking its voters list, updating lists and then issuing voters id cards, the BJP was one of the first to ensure that every practising and non-practising Hindu was on the rolls. This was particularly important in our area considering Hindus are completely outnumbered by Muslims who have more or less hijacked the loacality. So we dutifully added our names to the list and we were provided with a number that we had to quote and a form (i think) that we were to produce to get the id card at a subsequent date.

In time it was announced that the id cards for the area were being disbursed at a certain school that I have never heard of. Considering I am a veteran of our loacility (having lived here for near about 15 yrs) that was quite something. Nonetheless we forged ahead and discovered this seedy lane and derelict building only to understand that the id card distribution was stopped for the day due to some communal skirmish earlier in the afternoon. So we decided to come back the next day bright and fresh thinking that the process will be over in a while and that maybe we could catch a movie while we are at it.

When we made it back to this place, I should have been a little suspect considering the near total turnout of Muslims and the near absence of any other community members. What was surprising was that there were social workers (euphemism for thug aspiring to be politician) who were helping their particular community people to get their cards while minority people like us were compeltely ignored. The serpentine queue resembled Hanuman's elongated tail and the only heartening fact was the sight of people further behind me in the line - like they say, there is always a silver lining. So we sweated it out while other women tried to make small talk, though not succesfully - especially when one mistook my husband for my father - she is definitely not getting any award for PR! Everytime the venerated portals opened to admit the next lot of lucky people, the entire queue surged forward like the waves of the ocean in high tide only to be sternly stemmed to ensure even more hours of patient waiting. Just when I was ready to throw in the towel, I finally joined the lucky lot, albeit not without a few vocal complaints, and then realised that the queue continued inside. There was only one counter inside to verify details followed by a desktop with a camera to click a picture and finally the vajra astra was in your hands. After some more waiting this time in even more cramped conditions without potable water, i finally stood at the hallowed counter.

To say that I was overwhelmed is putting it lightly. I was near week in my knees and thought I would faint in disbelief. However I pulled myself up and gave them my number, feeling a heady mixture of relief and fulfillment. The disinterested human with a sneer on his face - enjoying his uncharacteristic position of power - looked up and shook his head - left to right and briskly waved me on. I looked at him flabbergasted. What did he mean? Then another individual took pity on me and revealed to me that they were only disbursing id cards for the area that lies opposite to mine and falling in a certain range that did not include my number. Dumbfounded I walked out with wooden feet to my husband who was ready to congratulate me on having achieved the impossible feat, only to blurt out the fact that our entire day in the sun had been wasted. The basic question that I had nobody to ask was, why wasnt this little fact publicised outside. Why was nobody informed? Can you imagine this error in a corporate or service steup. Will this lack of information be pardoned?

Thats when I decided that this murky, unorganized, fiefdom of politics and election is just not for me. If it is so easy to get a PAN card or a license, you atleast have consultants who manage the process for you, why should a voter id card be so elusive.

When our electoral and governmental processes are streamlined, when citizens are respected and empowered to exercise their voter franchise rather than forced to grovel and beg for their fundamental right - that day I and many others like me will become part of the democratic process. Till then we are unhappily staying out of this mess.

Women - the better half

Everytime i see my husband with a book in one hand and a cigarette in the other there is only one question that I ask. How is he so uncomplicated. Then I looked at a lot of other men and realised that he is not a rare specimen to be kept in a museum but that the male of the homosapiens are all blessed with a very simplified brain that is remarkable emptied of an emotion that the women face on an hourly basis - guilt.

Please correct me if I am worng but dont we always feel guilt about something. When we wake up its guilt about missing the morning walk again, then it is rushing to work and feeling guilty about not spending enough time with the kid, then it is rushing to work and then feeling guilt again about stepping in late - looking furtively to ensure that you havent missed much. Now fast forward to the evening - once again while rushing back from work face the guilt of not being one of the latenighters - sure contenders for that promotion, then rushing home to see a sleepy child needing dinner, rustling up something once again wishing you could cook like your mother and then having put her to bed feeling overall quite inadequate - thinking the day could have definitely been better. Now add the cherry of knowing that you are not giving your spouse/marriage enough time.

Now tell me do the men fel the same way. I bet you my last ruppee that these thoughts dont even cross their minds. Every time my daughter chooses my mother over me - whether to play with her or evenmake her sleep I am riddled with doubts and misgivings. I should have spent more time with her. Maybe I should have waited longer before going back to work. Maybe i shouldnt have read the book yesterday instead of playing with her and so on. Then I turn to see my husband happy and I mean really happy to have got some time to himself beacuse of the lucky turn of events.

How do you explain this difference in perspective. I have spoken to a zillion other women - both working and stay at home and they all have the same refrain. It is always guilt or regret about something. Life is just never perfect for us women.

Now is that a good thing or a bad thing - thats what I cannot answer. Maybe we should take a leaf from their book and learn to be more satisfied. But of course then we wouldnt try so hard to do things better- which wouldnt be such a good thing either. I suppose here is a puzzle that still needs to be unraveled. But maybe thats also what makes us what we are - the far superior and more evolved half!

Is your career ruining your life?

Maybe the way things have been going the last couple of days has made me quite reflective about what life means, what it should be like, what is the essense of living a good life and so on. I think you get the drift - I am starting to question why we do the things we do. When we list the most important things in our life where do you think a career will feature and if at all it features in the top three then I ask you this. How many years do we spend working - a maximum of 25 - 30 years. Going by the life expectancy rate of about 70 years at the minimum that still doesnt account for half of our time on earth. Of course lets remeber that even in these 25-30 years we are not taking into account weekends, holidays and evenings. So why do we sacrifice so much for this career dream that doesnt even last till we do. Lets now step back and see what a career means to most of us - security, a getaway, self esteem amongst others and for the lucky few - the fulfilment of their dreams.

The lucky few are ofcourse really blessed because they directly enjoy the euphoria of living their dreams. But for most others careers are the pathway to their dreams. Their jobs are the enablers that provide them the wherewithal to make their dreams come true. Their dreams could be anything - either tanglble or intangible. It could be owning a house, settling their family, watching their kids go to college or like me - travelling across the globe.

In which case should we not stop to think whether the enabler is actually becoming a major roadblock or a deterrent to the dream. Is it preventing us from doing the thing we really like to do - like read a book, listen to music or watch the sunset.

Mind you, I am not advocating laziness or idleness. I more than anyone else believe in the importance of industriousness. But I am only wondering whether we need to rationalize the importance we afford to a career and understand what our life goals are.

I have been thinking a lot and I understand that my life goal is not to be the next CEO of some big company or a much respected businesswoman - infact I would never be happy with the stress that would come hand in hand with this. I like creative fulfillment. I like watching something come to life, to read a piece that I have written, to see a design take shape. But my fuflfillment also from my daughter and my pup. They are as important to my daily goals as an assignment at work. However I also need to go out and do something daily - that definitely keeps the self esteem high and of course contributes to the kitty. I like to do different things daily, I like the opportunity to try out new things, to learn something all the time. So come to think of it I suppose I am not that ambitious and if it comes to power or flexibility I would choose the latter.

Coming back to my earlier point I think all of us should ensure that we are not sacrificing the things that matter most to us at the altar of our career - thinking that they will all come back to us later. Beacuse when the final hour comes rarely does one's promotions or professional success stand in the reckoning. It only matters whether you have touched people's lives meaningfully and whether you will be missed when you are gone. And believe me the ones to whom you will be indispensable are all waiting for you at home.