Voting in Mumbai

Normally I wouldn't post about things like this - poets and politics, and all that, and what happened to Ovid is a matter of public record. (He annoyed Augustus - or, I suppose, annoyed Livia - and was exiled, a dismal fate for one whose work depended on access to the libraries of Rome.)

However, having been exceedingly funny at the expense of the Election Commission when interesting things happened with my voter registration form, it's only fair to give them a tip-of-the-hat when they get things right.

April 30 was assuredly a thing they got right.

I will admit than when I first heard that the electoral rolls in the polling booths would be on paper, I was appalled. I think my reaction was something like, "Books? You mean actual books? But there are millions of people in the city! It'll be like having to sort through hundreds of phone books. I'll be in line for ever." I finished with a sort of despairing wail.

It wasn't as bad as all that - in fact, it wasn't bad at all.

I planned to leave home at eight-thirty, actually left at ten to nine, and was pointed in the right direction by helpful policemen. When I got to the polling station, there was a man sitting at a table outside. He had four books. Four very slim books. If they had been stacked one on top of another, an ant standing on a pencil would probably have been able to see over the pile.

He was helping some people find their names, but, once he had established that I was literate, he didn't make me wait while he finished with them. He gave me a book with the injunction to locate my own name (which took ten minutes or so, but that was entirely my fault, since the first time around I forgot to check the last page for the supplementary list).

Then I went in. State name to chap with list, chap repeats name to confirm, chap examines driving license, ink spot on finger. The Electronic Voting Machine was concealed from view by an upturned carton with the bottom and one side cut off, which, when you get down to it, is every bit as effective as reinforced concrete walls (provided, of course, that there is no danger of a strong wind). The EVM was easy to use - locate name of candidate, press button - and that was it.

I was back home, to my own astonishment, at nine-fifteen.

Sure, it would have rated far higher on the coolness scale to have had biorhythm sensors identifying people as they went in and voice-activated voting machines recording their choices. But until someone finds a cheap way to manufacture several hundred thousand of those, the system works pretty well.