My first vote!

No matter what holidays the State Government declares some of us less fortunate ones have to work even on the day when the rest of the city is enjoying a day off in order to do their part during the elections. This is why working for a CA firm is not fun... Just to clarify on my boss’s part it’s not his fault either. Back to blaming the Central Government-quarterly returns, the corporate clients who remember to file their returns only on the last date and while we're still playing the blame game, how can I miss out on the Institute of Chartered Accountants of India for poor passing percentages such that every article in my firm is on study leave, reappearing for the papers, which seriously brings down the number of people actually working in my firm. Besides being a senior you can have no escape. And so there I was destined to go back to work once I’m done with casting my vote and go home only once the work is done.

I reached my polling centre at around 11am and was surprised to see the queue extending beyond my expectations. If I wanted to enjoy the day off by leaving early, getting in the queue wasn't going to help. Besides I don't even live in the ward I was voting for. God alone knows who deserves to be voted for. Which most of the times is neither.

Thus, I put my evil mind to work. I remembered the Article 49-O of the Constitution of India doing the usual rounds of forwarded emails. For those who have forgotten about it, this Article (and not Section) gives one the right to vote for neither of the persons on the list of candidates. I had a feeling this was going to be my window of escape. Little did Mr. Ambedkar know that years after he drafted the Constitution there'll be one civilian would use it to wrap up her right to vote (more like a duty towards the country now-a-days) all the time justifying herself since she didn't know anything about any of the candidates, it would be only fair that she vote for none of them. So let’s see if they'd let me jump the queue and be done quickly.

What followed was surprising. I approached the Polling Booth Assistant’s desk. Told him about my intentions. The man was all confused. The 1st thing he enquires about if I was a freaking journalist. When I said no he thought to himself I must be just trying to hide my identity. He asked for some ID. The one day I decide to take some “panga” I forget to carry any ID except for my railway pass! No Voter ID issued but thankfully my name was on the list of people registered to vote. Never had he heard of this Article 49-O nor had he ever heard of anyone visiting the poll booth to vote for nobody… “Why come down here if you don’t want to vote is what they kept asking?” That’s when I realised that none of the people responsible for the arrangements had any idea what the law says. Nothing different from the ignorant people standing there to vote and I particularly felt bad for the elderly. Having no intensions of being part of the mess I might be about to create he conveniently directed me to the Zonal Polling Officer.

I expected to meet an old chap like any other government official but to my surprise this guy looked not much older than me. To get an edge I tried to speak in a bit of a legal lingo that I wanted to exercise the rights granted to me under the Article 49-O of the Constitution of India. He didn’t know what the Article provides so I explained in simple words. At least he understood I wasn’t here to play a prank. I got to say the guy didn’t try to make it any harder for me. He simply took me to the right hall, told the guys there what special procedure to follow in my case in very clear terms. I was impressed. I tried to get back in the queue to which he said no need just get in between. Oh! Was I loving this special treatment! And mission accomplished. Didn’t even have to waste time standing in the long queue.

But as I mentioned before, all the rest of the officials had no clue what the Article 49-O says and they think even though a person who can actually quote the Article number being an ordinary citizen could not know more about elections than they do. This is exactly why I had done my homework before entering the polling booth. So in spite of clear instructions they had to be retold what they were supposed to do by the journalist in disguise of an ordinary citizen. Someone who comes to vote but doesn’t vote for any one, while the rest of the people in the queue just keep on staring at who the hell is this girl cutting in between the queue while they have to keep waiting in line. At least I got mine. By the way all this took nothing more than 5 minutes. And I even got to call myself a responsible citizen :P All in all quite an experience for a first timer.

Just another day... or is it?

Busy day at work, gallons of stress and your petite little brain wants a big break. Sounds familiar? Yes that pretty much describes my status at 8pm everyday.

Worried about what’s gonna happen tomorrow if I don’t stay up and complete the report before the client meeting tomorrow, there I was, in a Virar bound from Bandra. Cozily seated on a window seat (only the ones who commute to work everyday by train can understand the achievement getting a window seat is K), beside a lady with a cute little daughter who wanted to have everything being vended in the compartment (Yes, this happens in Mumbai. From snacks to cosmetics, to books, to clothes, you’ll find anything you need while you travel. Great way to save time though…), merrily reading the latest Dan Brown, The Lost Symbol (please forgive me for supporting piracy Mr. Brown), on my new Windows Mobile (which was the best I could get after I lost my 3 months old express music phone, a Birthday gift from my sweetheart, which surely must have disappointed him… I’m still sorry about the loss baby L), little did I know that God had some other plans for the evening when he kept my boss busy in discussions while I kept getting late for home & ended up taking the train I usually don’t.

So it happened when I was somewhere around Chapter 45 that this lady with the cute kid almost faints off her seat. Now I being the lame person I am, had little clue about first aid or whatever is required to be done that moment (wonder why they don’t teach us that in school?) All I could do was stand up and offer her the seat so she could lie down, which somehow got misunderstood by the kid!

Now I gottta say, this is the 2^nd time in my life that I have been glad to travel in a ladies compartment. Some of these women were actually generous enough to spare some water, cadbury gems and things like that for the ill lady which didn’t go well with the kid ‘coz no one was giving her any candy.

I was hoping desperately that she’d recover ASAP but God knew it wouldn’t be worth this blogpost and so her condition kept getting only worse. Figured I should inform her family. I called her husband at work as she barely mumbled out his number, only to be greeted with a yell “Jaldi bolo!!” which I did.

Anyways since she stayed at the same suburb as I did, I figured, I’d help the lady get home with the kid and her baggage intact. No one else was ready to help as it seemed. And this is where I hate the women in the same ladies compartment who were distributing sweets a little while back. Stone-hearted snobs!

So I somehow managed to get her off the train. Thought I’d get her something sweet to sip on to get her blood pressure back on track. Now here’s what the Railway Minister forgot to add to her budget. A snacks counter on the platform. The only counter at the station was all the way on the other platform at the other end of the station (are the people who want me to vote for them at the elections next week listening?!!) & climbing the footbridge and getting a juice quickly with a heavy laptop bag on my back, at a time when my own blood pressure wasn’t at its peak, wasn’t going to be an easy task, now was it? All I thought was lemme try my best & I’m sure God would pay be back the very next day at the meeting when I don’t complete the damn report.

The best I could get was a chilled bottle of a mango drink. Thankfully she had enough strength to have some of it, which slowly got her to stand up again on her foot with some support from me and climb the same huge over-bridge to get to the road with little breaks after every 37th step. All she kept repeating was her place is too close to the station & she could walk it up. Yeah right!

At this point, guess who pops up in my head? My dear sweet Mom. If I were so ill she’d never make me walk till home even if it were 100 feet away. So being the sweet person I can be once in a while, I did the same for this woman. Caught hold of the closest autowala outside the station and got him to drop us off at the other end of the block. At this point I’d like to thank God for sending this other lady to our rescue.

Got to her building only to realize that she lived on the top floor of a building with no elevators & no neighbours. The mangola must have been a good choice ‘coz she managed to climb up to the top floor and get to the couch.

I felt more relived than her to know we made it. For once helped someone greatly in need. Felt like a better person. Thanked God. Stood up to leave when.. whoa!!.. felt my own knees wobble under my weight. Had to sit down again , worried about all the people who would be trying to reach me at 10pm on my bettery-starved-switched-off-phone.

Finally gave her my number so she can thank me in leisure when she’s better & came back home.

I’m writing this post right now still worried about my unfinished report. Now here’s where I’m hoping for God’s grace & a payback for helping out a total stranger. I know you’re thinking I’m such a meano, expecting favours in return for helping someone, but you see CA’s are taught not to invest where the Return on Investment is 0 or negative in this case. This should give you an idea why all CA’s are “kanjus”! :P