By: Barnali Bose, Editor-ICN Group
Once every five years I feel happy, politically happy to be the citizen of a Democracy. I feel I am important for my country. Is there anyone who doesn’t like to feel that she matters, that her opinion matters to her country? Well, I am no exception. Nevertheless, this assurance of self- importance comes with a price.
Election is the time when political parties, besides stepping beyond the parameters of decency in their smear campaigns are also ever ready to walk that extra mile to woo voters. They do not hesitate to stoop to conquer. From posing with a sickle and driving tractors to hugging a child in the slums, they do it all.
On one hand, they wash dirty linen of their opponents in public while on the other hand, they undertake the role of a prosecutor demanding explanation for promises made but not materialised by the opponents. They pretend to be oblivious of the fact that promises made by politicians are meant to be broken. That they are on the same boat, they blissfully disregard. As they say, ignorance is bliss and to feign ignorance is most definitely bliss multiplied.
For days, we, the hapless citizens are at the mercy of their whims and fancies. They block roads either with their rallies or on the excuse of the so-called VIP’ s visit. Then begins the brain- washing sessions in the garb of public meetings.
Each political party is well equipped with the best of vocabulary and idioms to drive home the idea that each one is better than the best and it is only that one and none else that can save the country from sure damnation.
As in theatre, there is a production team that writes scripts to be performed by those supposed to be in the limelight. As the political drama unfolds, the characters do and say as the script demands.
Modifications are allowed to some extent only. Caution is exercised so as not to cross the line. Otherwise the inevitable ensues as it did when recently an actor- turned- politician had to eat his words when he mentioned a particular name, supposed to be an absolutely taboo, in the list of freedom fighters of the British period. He had no option but to blame it on “ a slip of the tongue”.
When the doorbell rings, my heart skips a beat. Oh,no,not again,wish I ! But of course , yet again, says the smirk on the countenance of the group that waits at the door. I have no choice but to wear a smile as I am again and again subjected to the torturous sermons that each group rattles off in a robot-like manner. One quality all the political parties,I must say, have in common. Well, it is narcissism as all, leaving out none, indulge in self-adulation.
It is also the time when all rules of pollution control are conveniently thrown to the winds. Blaring loudspeakers become the norm rather than an exception with increasing decibels increasing blood pressure.
Glaring hoardings with huge personas spelling their mission statements and fluttering party flags proudly tossing themselves to and fro more gleefully than the daffodils do, cause more visual pollution than all billboards do year long.
The print media houses seem to consider it their solemn duty to report day-to-day tiffs between politicians and compete with one another to cover the maximum space with news of campaigns and more so of smear campaigns all over the country.
Social media is full of political jargon where whether one understands or not what politics is all about, one must comment. The mantra on social media is, “Comment with conviction whether or not you understand your conviction.”
The audio- visual media is undoubtedly many steps ahead. Each and every spat between opponent political parties are not telecast once but repeatedly so. Different news channels conduct political discourses that escalate into verbal battlegrounds on screen. All sanity seems to be lost threatening to cause even the television to explode. I, a poor viewer have not the means to agree or disagree but to suffer in silence. To change the channel or switch off the television, is all I can but do.
Then arrives the day when I, the voter, am the pivot around whom the entire electoral process seems to revolve. “ The ball is in my court”, I say to myself.
With head held high and sure long strides, the glow of confidence sparkling in my eyes, I make my way to the polling booth. A policeman checks my electoral slip before gesturing in the direction, I am supposed to make a move to.
An inner voice appears to whisper into my ears, “Every single vote counts”. “Yes,of course! I, a citizen of a Parliamentary Democracy do hold the key to the future,” I assure myself. But only for a few fleeting moments. An identity verification, a quick signature, a vertical purple mark on the finger and then a push of the button followed by a long beep as the image of the candidate flashes before me. It is done.
I feel contented to have done my duty as a politically conscious citizen. I pat myself for having been part of the most important process in the largest Democracy. But then I pause for a moment as the inevitable truth stares me on my face. Is it really the beginning or the beginning of an end? Who will have the last laugh is anybody’s guess, isn’t it? Well, I laugh inwardly as I say aloud, “ The proof of the pudding is in its eating.” The man next in queue, looks visibly perplexed. I walk away, flaunting the new embellishment on my finger.
