By RK Rishikesh Sinha
Today Delhi (April 10) went to vote for the 7 Lok Sabha seats. And I am one among millions whose names have appeared first time in the electoral roll. Of course the day is important for me — it was my first voting experience. Like anything ‘first’, it has its own sweet and sour ingredients to the whole story.
Fail in Duty
I got my Voter ID card in 2013 along with my father, mother, sister, and my youngest brother. But this time when I submitted an application online for my wife and my younger brother, they were not provided with Voter ID cards. Reason cited, according to the official website — address not found. The day when I got the call from the BLO about the application for my wife’s Voter ID card, I was outside. So, couldn’t meet the BLO. That’s fine. I thought let’s see the fate of my brother’s application. This time, neither any call nor any visit had been done. However, it met the same fate — address not found. So, two people of my family were out of the whole process. They failed to cast their votes.
In the name of publicity, I found it was not aggressive on ground. Nonetheless, it was done electronically. From many modes that the parties have employed to catch people’s attention, the one that stole mine was phone calls and SMS from the BJP. In the market, people were buzzing about parties, candidates, and analysis. Not to talk about the AAP. There were no sign of shorbaazi. From the first impression of publicity upon me to the pressing of the button at the polling station, the whole process that motivated me seems to be what Google says “Zero Moment of Truth”, a marketing concept. The magic really worked upon me. From the first encounter to the last moment of act, I was around with BJP.
April 10, I along with my parents went to the polling station at afternoon. The shops were closed, there were less vehicles plying on the road. The whole environment gave a different impression. People around the polling station were of helping nature. There were few people at the station. Soon my parents cast their votes. They were not issued the EPIC Card. Despite it, with Aadhar Card as supporting document, they without any hassle did their duty. My father was serious with the whole affair. For him, it was more than anything.
When I asked for the confirmation from the officials to know my Part No., and Serial No., I was told that my polling station is at another nearby school. I made up my mind to skip it, but my father showed interest so that I can cast my vote. We went to my polling station which was quiet far away. After reaching there, we found, my polling station was where my parents had already cast their vote. Back to square one! We went again and found the same piece of information for which I was made to walk. At last, I cast my vote and the ink mark of my first voting experience remained with me.