I did not Vote- The pangs and pain of a non voter

I can hear some of you saying...” shame on you”, “this was not expected of you”, “I knew it- she is not patriotic” ,”lazy bum”, “ don’t crib for the next five years now- you have no right to”.... and blah and blah and blah. In the so called democratic revolution I feel like the outcast. There is so much information fed to me each day about every hopeful candidate for the Prime Ministership. My friends are divided in their loyalty towards these candidates and do not hesitate to share links and updates about how good their choice of candidate is and how hopeless the others are. Thanks to the social media.... these ‘Men of Honour’ have their own mini campaigners spread across the length and breadth of facebook, twitter, whatsapp and the likes. Then why didn’t I vote?

I ask this question to myself a number of times during the day- and this is the first time I am feeling less of an Indian than my neighbour with an ink marked finger selfie on his facebook page. I am a breed that is stuck between the patriots who saw the march of independence and the revolutionaries who want to see a change in independence. Don’t get me wrong- I know my history well and I know the price for democracy and freedom that was paid by our brave fighters. I also know my present well where campaigns and dharnas yield results that are immediate but  interim with no follow up.... it is like we give up halfway and get busy with another “happening “ campaign. Every strive is forgotten too soon.... such is the impact of the information , tech savvy age.... there is too much of information on too many finger tips. I am the confused non voter!

There must be many like me who read the news paper everyday, watch the news on tv everyday, open up links and web pages about every party campaign, about the hidden wife, the mama’s boy, the slapper and the slapee, the offender, the offensive,  the bureaucrat, the campaign lunches , the money spinner, the mute , the talker, the stalker, the religious bender, the blanket and sari for a vote- giver, the taker...... and ohhhh I am confused!! And then I decide to be the outsider, the bystander, the R.K.Laxman ‘Common Man’ who didn’t exercise the right to vote .I will walk the streets  with my dazed wide-eyed look at everything wrong that will(not might) happen in the next five years, coz I didn’t believe that my vote counted and the man chosen to lead the largest democratic nation would have been the not so tainted man from the not so tainted party that I would have chosen.

 There  is a famous saying that my father  had written somewhere – “ In the kingdom of blind , the one eyed man is the king”. It holds true in our kingdom.... the one eyed man gets to be  king, in five years he becomes mute, add another five years he becomes totally blind. Notwithstanding, we have a new  set of one –eyed men ready to replace him and are campaigning hard. I made the mistake of not voting and I chose to remain blind, but these men show potential  as leaders of the masses and if you vote , your man might just be the one who opens up your eyes and makes you see the new world, creates opportunity, empowers the youth ,stabilizes the economy, bridges the gap between the rich and the poor, the rural and the urban, shuns bureaucracy, gets rid of the middle men, walks the walk and talks the talk.There is hope if you vote, and there are pangs of guilt if you don’t.Take that Step .... Vote!!!

On the threshold of number thirteen and the carefree number eight

They ask me- Why ,what, where ...how, and incessantly bug me with questions about anything and everything. Some of which I am prepared for, “ Adi - Mamma, what are the fourth and the fifth dimensions?”, and some of which I am not prepared for, “Aaru(while watching a movie)- Why is he covering his ‘main point’ with his hat?(as a woman came out of the pool in a bikini)”.They are my Brats!

They never cease to amaze me with their hilarious antics- “Aaru- mamma woh dekho ek phatta hua kauua”;  their witty comments –Aaru once announced “papa is potty two(42) and mummy is tatti five(35)”, I found that very funny; their insatiable appetite – “Mummy Bhook”, after every five minutes and sometimes even when the mouth is stuffed with something; and their humane nature – they want to help everyone- from a rabid dog to a fallen baby pigeon and even a drunken man on the street!

I love them! They keep me on my toes, I try in vain to take my quick naps in the afternoon or to avoid a game of football or cricket, saying its a boys’ game. But they are quick to reply –“ mamma you said, boys and girls are equal, its everybody’s game, so come and play”. And recently while playing the “equals” game of cricket ,I tried to be so like the boys, and sprained my ankle badly. As I fell the boys left everything and ran to me and trust their father to keep taking his runs between the wickets, shouting “She’ll get up, she’ll get up”!

They are growing up so fast. Adi will be thirteen in a week’s time. That boy is a gentle soul, always worried about the world not being kind, not being fair, not helping the poor enough; and if he had it in him he would do it all. He questions all that is wrong. Once he asked his father why he had  a glass of ‘ganda pani’(rum) in the car while driving. He asks me why I don’t give money to the beggar boy at the traffic signal, when I have extra money and it clearly looks like he needs it. He didn’t want me to kill the seven rats we caught in our house as we had enough food for them as well. For him the world’s problem is his problem and he needs to solve it, and may be in time he will solve it!

Aaru is eight, but talks like he is fifteen and thinks like he 30. He wants to know everything now and just now....he waits for nothing and no one. He is a ‘bindaas’ lad, carefree , naughty and gets into trouble( reminds me of me), but he can get out of any tricky situation with just a smile( and some people would again say... he is a lot like me). Unlike Adi, he wants the world to worry about him. He can lie unabashedly and can surprise you with his uncanny ability to stay calm and composed.

They are a part of me, a little like me and a whole lot different. Adi is the idli, dosa, rice plate eater from Tambiland. He talks less, works more. He is always thinking and I never know what he is thinking. He cooks well(a treat for his future ladies), and he makes some amazing things with anything waste. He is old school and a little conservative in his thoughts... would have been a perfect fit in India 70 yrs ago. I foresee a clash of thoughts and ideas between him and me in the future but for now we are good. Since he is still my little boy, I have started talking to him lately about a concept of ‘learning to unlearn’( a thought shared by a good friend of mine), so he is open to change and to evolve.

Aaru – the ‘Punjab Da Puttar’, loves his alu paratha, malai chicken and palak paneer. He is a ‘jolly good fellow’ , witty and always up to his pranks. He is a charmer and will woo his ladies with his looks and sense of humour. I was recently amazed by his Punjabi accent as he learnt the famous “Sunder mundariya”(a folk song sung on lohri, a tradition dying with the new generation). He sung those lines and it made his grandparents so happy and proud. He is a people pleaser and wants to make everyone happy around him. He wants to become a cricketer ( a bowler at that)when he grows up, and why not; he has got the looks and the attitude for it, aptitude shall sneak in soon!

They will grow up soon, leave home, carve a niche for themselves. I will crib and throw a fit when I grow old and don’t see them enough. But for now they are around me, with me, for me – laughing , playing , learning.... and one day I am sure they will grow up to be “Gentle” men.