And so, at last, the Indian Game of Thrones aka Election 2014
to defeat the Italian lineage of the
House Gandhi, which began in roughly 1977, is over. We have finally come to the
end of the bitter hateful partisan viciousness that has consumed us for far too
long, and we can now look forward, as a nation, to beginning a new era of
bitter hateful partisan viciousness. But first let's pause for a moment to
express our support, as Indians, for the man we have elected as our next Prime
Minister, even if we did not vote for him, or do not - in the case of Mamata
Bannerji’s donkey, anyway - know who he is. For all she knows, we elected Arnab
Goswami, or maybe Arnold Schwarzenneger.
My deadline to publish
this article was the night of the day before, and as I write these words, all the
networks are predicting a huge BJP win but refusing to make any predictions
about who lost. They don't want to repeat the fiasco of the Delhi election
night of 2013, when they appeared to be getting their voting-return data from a
fortune telling parrot.
So this time around they are being extremely careful
about how they word things:
BARKHA DUTT: Let's turn to our political expert, Nidhi
Razdhan. Nidhi, what's your expert analysis of the losers at this point?
NIDHI: I can't say, Barkha.
BARKHA: You mean it's too early to predict?
NIDHI: I wouldn't go as far as to say that, Barkha.
BARKHA: So you can't tell us anything?
NIDHI: This connection sucks Barkha. Try again later.
On a brighter note, the voting seemed to go fairly smoothly
here in Goa. This was a concern because of the way we screwed up the last
election by casting thousands upon thousands of fake votes on which we
apparently selected a mute for Prime Minister, or two people for Prime Minister,
or a parrot for Prime Minister, etc.
But this time it went pretty well. Where I voted, in Alto
Porvorim, there was a longish line, but it moved steadily, with the dead voters
being dragged forward by helpful poll workers, and the drunks fed large pots of
coffee.
Eventually I got into the voting booth and cast my vote on
one of those new computerised EVM’s, which was kind of fun, especially the part
at the end when you push the button and the little beeper screeches and all the
street dogs start howling. (If this did not happen when you voted, your machine
was defective, and you should file a complaint with the Election Commission to
notify Rahul Gandhi to check it immediately.)
My biggest voting problem was in understanding the party
symbols on the EVM. I had studied them ahead of time on a sample EVM; there
were various patterns and designs, and without question the one with the hand
symbol appeared to be clutching a wad of currency. Of course there was some
confusion with one of the others was it a broom or was it a torch with
emanating light rays or was it an alien stun wand. The English version of how
to use the EVM’s was apparently written by reporters from the Panjim Edition of
The Times of India. One instruction, which I am not making up, was worded as
follows: You are not given any ballot thereafter, and are sent to the
EV Machine placed behind a card board in a corner. The machine is placed in
such a way that your polled vote will be a secret.” It made me think: well polling
is a gamble anyway. But search as I might I failed to find the above-mentioned “card
board” although there was a cleverly hidden EVM in a corner ….so brushing aside
all thought of Aces, Kings and Queens, I played my trump and pressed a blue button
which blushed bright red and let out a satisfied orgasmic shriek.
I voted for a better country, one that I as a citizen , would hopefully feel proud of, against that old
one, because it's riddled with corruption and greed and turmoil and has no soul
in it that I can detect. I would have voted for the death penalty for whoever
wrote it, but as far as I know that was not an electoral requirement.
I voted in favour of the question about casinos, solely
because the local version of a casino is “matka” or “jackpot”
I also, of course, voted for a Prime Minister. I believe I
made the right choice, and I hope that when we finally determine the outcome of
who actually lost this election - if we ever do - my candidate will still be
declared victorious. Because I believe that now, more than ever before in this
nation's history, we need a leader with vision, courage, experience, resiliency
and - above all - a really big bullet proof vest to accommodate a 56 inch,…..oops
sorry we follow the metric system 142.24 cms, chest.
Prime Minister “The Great Khali” Dalip Singh Rana.