I went down to check out the registration tables in Colaba, by the fire station and saw none of the lines and queues that Diana faced in Borivali in the early part of the day, where there were 20 people with flawed voting cards for every 10 voters they actually let into the polls.
Seven rickety tables lined the shady corner in front of Colaba Municipal Secondary School Lane. They were staffed primarily by young, thin men in collared shirts, tipping their chairs back and looking slightly aggrieved when approached by potential voters.
People jostled the tables, poring over orange paper-covered booklets that listed the names, addresses, gender, and ages of voters qualified to vote at the school. So much depends on who is working the tables: The English speakers had forgotten their voting cards; they argued in low tones with the voting officials over whether or not they could use passports. They were confident, unhurried, outraged by red tape. Across the lane, at the Hindi table, Vishal's voting card was wrong; his middle name was spelled incorrectly, the same problem that plagued him in the last elections. He was agitated and blustering; he spoke in Marathi to the bored-looking official who responded in Hindi.
The Shiv Sena had commandeered the best location, right under the tree. They were handing out hats and stickers as two giggling women checked the rolls.
Raj Thackeray’s party, MNS, was next to them. Older stout men with mustaches and rings on their pudgy fingers stapled flyers to the back of the booth assignments they passed on to voters.
When we rounded the corner, three women approached Angeline to remind her gently to vote for Meera Sanyal, the hope of the liberal Malabar Hills constituency.
Independent voter identification and registration. Whatevs, right?
As for the problem of voting early and often:
Indelible ink. Better than computers.
Tonight Kap announced that voter turnout was 45%. Bombay is starting to look like the US.
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