The Ink on my finger

I happened to look at my finger, the stain still printed like the common spit we find on every angle of the walls of Nagaland from the famous mouth freshener cum tooth staining chewable tezz or whatever name it is available these days.

I could not sleep the night before the election, certain kind of screaming, prowling and running sounds since wee hours of the morning disturbed the peace of my dreams, usually I sleep like a log.

The day of the election, I saw the queue turning into some ball of human groups near the small entrance which was almost 2 and a half feet wide in its opening when I reached the polling station at around 9:30 AM. It was about an hour of waiting in the queue, we were jolted by some certain noise down towards the small gate, it took few seconds for me to realize that the noise was caused by the pushing of voters from the back since these people were standing 3-4 hours before the commencement of the poll which started at 7 AM and they were in desperate mode to get inside the first gate so as for them to enter the final gate to cast their vote.

The personnel who were standing at both the gates seemed to enjoy, rather, the pushing and the falling due to the force being applied from every angle and the total show the Christians voters have so created.

I was distraught at the sight and the cheap act we performed and some old ojalas were laughing at the event, which added to my anger.

It took me 5 hours to get me to the first gate and when it was about to be opened, I braced myself for the same ‘pushing’ I have witnessed earlier, for I knew I need not do anything and all the force that was about to be put around me from every person next to me will automatically let me enter the same, except this time, some of the people who entered at the first ‘Pushing game’ were standing with us with different attire and then I saw a young man’s feet fly by over my head and some, who were standing before I arrived at the station could enter only this time because they couldn’t push through. Mixed feelings ran through my veins.

The saddest part was that yimten people saw all these but they were casually watching the show this time too: we were like gladiators inside the arena. They could have easily maintained, at least, some discipline. Right before the deadline my finger was stained with silver nitrate, but the line of genuine voters who were behind me, were asked to go back home, and these disciplined bunch of people who were so gentle, knew no violence returned without a voice.

The results were declared after two days and all the statuses were popping with “Thank you Lord” captions from supporters who have clearly used force, distributed money, alcohol and zombie-effect inducing substances. Clean election was a total mockery!!!!

(The contributor of this article wish to remain anonymous and only identify as ‘someone who expected more from Christians’)

Mokokchung Times