>Today happens 2 b one more holiday in our land of holiday makers. Reason : POLLING. Well, the need 4 the by-poll arose after the death of the reigning MLA, and his son has taken the mantle 2 run 4 the post. This is actually the second time that v hav polls in this year, 4 the last one was countermanded on account of large scale violation of model code. Whatever, it was God’s way of allowing me 2 vote 4 the first time in my life( and am not quite sure if i’ll do it again :-D). Yes, i have just got my left index finger blackened by utilizing my fundamental right( Probably, the only one.. rest all r duties).
Actually it was my dad who forced me 2 exercise my vote, maybe in the fear of it being scrapped again, and Dad having 2 close down the shop shutters for one more day. So, after dad went through the process and returned, I went along with my mom, with the same enthusiasm that a 5 year old has while clinging to his mom on the way 2 a park. Actually, i was very curious 2 hav a first hand experience of the happenings there, and 2 say the least it was quite a funny scene there at the polling booth.
I entered into a booth, which looked a set straight out of some horror movie – the only difference being that it was hustling with activity, by not so impressive looking people. There the man gave me a wierd look and asked me 4 my number. Now out of the scribble in Telugu on the small slip( Paper conservation!!…), which no. do i quote?? I said 20, and he gave me a puzzled look. I had actually given out my age, I reconciled and gave him ny number. He scanned through the volumnious pages and said that my name was not there with a ” you-have-failed” look. The other person there took over and informed me that i had indeed come to the wrong booth and i was directed to the right one.
At the right booth, i was more cautious now that i had the first phase experience. i went in confidently, and went through the same process when the supervisor there asked for an identity proof, with a look that is generally reserved for the traffic policeman while asking for the licence. I was fortunately carrying my College identity card, and flashed it out. Suddenly the whole expression changed and that same person started giving me looks as if we have known each other since childhood, and jovially asked me ” So, u r from GITAM”.. “No, I just got that card made 2 flash out at such occasions”.. “Yes” i replied. And from then on that person guided me to the whole process, got me marked on the finger and even wanted 2 follow me to the actual booth box, where he finally realized that he was not allowed( See, what a college does 2 a person. I later came to know that he has a son, who would be appearing for his entrance this year, and that person there was bent on gettin him into our college). After exercising my suffrage, i left the booth, of course after a short ‘unwanted’ chat with that person.
At home, like a 2nd standard boy running to his father to show his cent percent report card and claim his gift, I showed the black mark on my index finger 2 my father, who glaringly commented ” gud, So now u have become a responsible citizen”. My mom has informed me that the mark wold only when the nail leaves my body, that is after it outgrows and gets trimmed. Now i understand why there was no substabtial queue in the ladies section, and i thought it was due to the upsurging imbalance in the girl : boy ratio in the country. Anyways, the whole process of voting was exciting, and has left an indelible mark on my memory, and on my index finger.
Coming to other things in life, I have Passed. Yes, i hav succesfully cleared all the subjects in the third year socond semester, and have just two more sems left 2 get that coveted degree. Ofcourse, i have managed to mantain just a meagre CGPA of 8.4, but nevertheless i m happy. “Pappu pass ho gaya..”
My training at Vizag steel plant has commenced last week, and v r havin a rockin time there. I m gradually realising the magnitude of logistics that r managed at such huge plants, and it has left me awe-struck.