SECTION 49.0 IPC

I got this really interesting forward today ( yeah ,sure.. what else do I mostly do at work other than read the forwards I get ;) )... some of it I was aware of, while the rest I was not. Its typically directed against people like me who abstain from even showing their shadow near a voting booth.

I don't vote because I love ranting and raving against the corruption that is prevalent, the ridiculous quota systems that are to be introduced, the growing insecularity of our country, bad roads, free power, free colour Tv's and *blah, blah , blah*. And it makes life a lot more easy because no one can refute my arguments by making the simple statement, " You voted them in". Its simple for me to retort back,"But I didn't. I don't vote".

Just think about it. As long as I abstain from voting I can bitch about the government and the opposition in an impartial manner because my concience is free of the guilt of having bought those self same idiots to power despite being complete aware of their pretensions of being just, kind, fair and people serving over self serving. Were I to vote someone into power and they not fulfil the aspirations that I were to set for them( which anyway no sane person does - i.e. expect stuff) then more than being sorely disappointed I would have to feel lousy for having been one of the idiots responsible of having given that person the car, the bungalow, the crores, the eighth wife, the gold rings, the trips abroad,the slippers, the sarees, the money from gun sales,the money from stamp and fodder scams.. oh yes, crores and crores of money!!

Yeah , you can easily tell me that I am just a drop in an ocean, but I can retort back,"But every drop that makes the ocean counts.Were all of them to go on a strike, the ocean would be empty ;) ). Anyway ( I read this article that stops me from saying anyway(s) ), this is the article I wanted to bring to all of your notices.............


Among the reasons for poor voter turnout in the cities, particularly of the middle and upper classes, is the complaint that they have no real choice considering the poor quality of candidates and the poor public image of the parties these candidates represent. Secondly, many citizens believe that their votes are not really going to make a difference.

Since in the ensuing elections there is no provision for indicating rejection of candidates on the ballot, except by invalidating the vote by ambiguous voting - that is, putting the stamp on the line separating one candidate's name from another -- the Indian Liberal Group recommends a solution that already exists in the Conduct of Election Rules 1961. This not only gives reluctant voters a reasonable choice, but also ensures that their vote does make a difference.

Rule No. 49(O) in the Conduct of Election Rules 1961 says:

"Elector deciding not to vote - If an elector, after his electoral roll number has been duly entered in the register of voters in Form 17 A and has put his signature or thumb impression thereon as required under sub-rule (1) of rule 49L, decided not to record his vote, a remark to this effect shall be made against the said entry in Form 17A by the presiding officer, and the signature or thumb impression of the elector shall be obtained against such remark. "

Explanation: In other words, a voter can go to the polling station and tell the presiding officer that he/she does not wish to cast her/his vote. The presiding officer will make a remark that the voter does not wish to vote and take the voter's signature against his/her name in the register of voters (Form 17A). At the end of the day, the presiding officer will, in totalling the number of votes cast, also include the number of electors who refused to cast their vote. By doing so, voters make it clear to all political parties that they are not satisfied with the kind of candidates put up by them. Though they have done their duty as citizens by going to the polling station, they have not found anyone on the ballot paper who deserves their vote. This is the Protest Vote.

If large numbers of citizens exercise their franchise in this manner, political parties will be forced to be far more careful in ensuring they do not nominate crooks and criminals or incompetents as their candidates next time round. This in turn will see the emergence of honest and committed candidates getting into Parliament and state legislatures in the long run, thus leading the way to good governance. After the present elections have concluded, the Indian Liberal Group will press for the Protest Vote facility on electronic voting machines the next time round, so that voters have the option to say "None of the Above" after scrutinizing the candidates on the ballot.

The other factor thats involved with this 49(0) section is a scary section for the political parties.
Here's an example. Say there's a candidate standing in City A.
And say out of 100 people only 40 people turn to vote and out of that the Candidate recieves 30 votes. Then by rule, he's been declared as elected. But say, if out of the 100 people 70 turn to vote. and 30 people vote for the candidate and the other 40 people use section 49(0), to say i am not interested in anyof the candidate. Then if, the candidates vote(which the vote he got ie., 30) is less than the vote against him (under section 49(0) - which is 40), then by rule he would not be elected as winner and in turn he would not be able to participate in anymore further elections. And the election for CITY A will be re-held with fresh candidates. Now that sounds great handle for people!!

And i hope that's why many people dont know about section 49(0) and the politicians and the goverment still tries to keep it a hidden secret.

BEGGARS CAN BE CHOOSERS!!

You know what? The person who coined the phrase ' Beggars can't afford to be choosers' deserves to be hanged and quartered. That has to be the most inappropriate, irrelevant and incorrect phrase I have ever heard. Beggars are some of the choosiest people I have had the misfortune to meet!!

Wonder why I seem to be fuming, ranting and raving about beggars?
Because I had this really strange,hilarious yet humiliating experience with a beggar lady last night.

My friends and I had gone for dinner to this place called 'Eden'. After our meal we were standing below and exchanging meaningless nothings when this old woman came begging for money. I normally have this strict policy of not giving money to beggars.It's not that I don't pity them. I do. But I admire the honest living of a ragpicker more than the aimless existence of a beggar. I give money to really old people,people who are maimed and to kids who sing on trains or sweep compartments and ask for money in return for services rendered.In the latter cases especially, there does exist a satisfaction of money well given 'cause you do recieve value for your money- a refrain or a marginally cleaner compartment.I never give money to people who look like they could earn it.

Anyways, getting back to the point, this old lady came up to us,knocking her cane against the pavement and asking for money.I guess the good food ( the Food at Eden is awesome!! )made me mellow.So I dug into my handbag, hunting for some coins to give to her.The ony thing I could find was one 50 paise coin and a couple of hundreds.Obviously I could not, or rather would not give her a hundred. So I thought , "what the hell? Every paise counts" and gave the coin to her. Imagine my chagrin when she said,"Ayyae!!8 Annas, keep it yourself.Take ( Ayyae! aet anna.Neiyae vaechukko. indha)".

I got so completely pissed off that when she reached the coin out to me, my mind rebelled and I reached my hand out and took the coin back from her and dropped it back into my bag instead of scurrying away from her in embarassment( As they expect you to do). A really cheap thing for me to do(: ) : ) but i'm quite proud of myself ;) ) but I seriously felt that the lady deserved absolutely no consideration from me.

Once a friend of my cousin's wife( just to be precise ;) ) told a small beggar boy to come to his house and he would pay him four hundred a month if he would be a gardener. And you know what the boy replied "Get lost.Just give me your money. Why should I work for you for four hundred when I earn thousands each month this way?".

You would think that a person who does not do a thing to earn their living has absolutely no right to sneer at the leavings of one who does.

That's why I think the person who invented the phrase 'Beggars can't afford to be choosers' deserves to be hanged and quartered.

THE OTHER KID BORN OF THE SAME BLOOD

I think the most horrific memory I have of my brother is the time I accidently dropped his inkpot.It crashed to the ground from his study table, the ink spreading across the floor. You could have mistaken it for blood if it were not for the colour.I remember feeling shit scared of what he would say.My fear was quite justified.After helping me clean the floor,he made me face the wall and rub my nose against it.Even a hundred apologies did not mollify him.At the end of half an hour when he finally relented and let me off from the wall I had already lost probably 10 layers of my skin.It was his turn to be horrified.Obviously. Dad got to know of the incident and I think blasted my brother.He didn't think the punishment merited the crime. Neither did I.Yet, I still had to go an entire term to school with a tanned brown face and a pinkish white nose. I'm surprised that I don't have the nickname 'Rudolph'.

My brother used to always delight in getting in me into trouble with my aunts and my grandmother. The same as I used to love getting him into trouble with Dad. It helped that Dad was mostly partial towards his younger daughter.There was this one time when my brother and me were eating Dosas at the table and he started sprinking his with Catch salt. Quick to imitate my brother in everything he did, I mimicked his action. No sooner did I begin, he shouted out, " Patti, look at what Deepti is doing!!!". My grandmother quick to support her sensible grandson and berate her scatterbrained grand daughter whacked me across my head and when I said, "But, it was Siddhu who told me to" admonished me for lying about my brother.It was always said by everyone, " I wish Deepti were more like Siddhu. He is sooo 'Samathu'( well behaving ) whereas Deepti is too naughty and always getting into trouble".They never bothered to try find out that quite a few of the scrapes I got into, I was ably led into them by him and while I was left holding the sword he would have long since sprinted away.

I paint a rather devilish,wicked and bullyish picture of my brother don't I? That he was. But I think he was also a lot more than that.

I remember all those times he was around to pull me out of all those terrible scrapes I would get into ( irrespective of whether he got me into them or not!!).The time when I was six and I lit a 50 walah holding it in my hand. He quickly lept, grabbed it out of my hand and threw it away just in the nick of time.He slapped me, but never complained to Dad about it.Or those times when I was eight and he was thirteen and we would travel alone from our grandparent's house to ours by bus ( some 20 kms).When the bus would be crowded, he would find me a seat to sit in and keep an eye on me throughout the journey.

But, more than any other incidents there are three that I will probably never forget.

When we were small,during my birthdays, after the party he would invariably take me to a shop and buy me 'Phantom Ciggaretes' as a birthday gift 'cause they were my favourite sweets.I adored him so much!!

The second was when I was three and he was eight.We were playing Holi in our apartment complex when I suddenly felt a shooting pain in my stomach. I pointed at another kid and tugging at my brother's kurta told him,"Anna, my stomach is paining.That boy he shot me". The boy in question was probably twenty feet away,just staring at us and by no stretch of anyone's imagination could have wielded a gun that could have sprayed me from that far away! Yet , my brother just to comfort me and stop me from being unhappy pointed his pichkari in that guy's direction and sprayed it a couple of times in the air and said, "There, now I have shot him too". Reminds me of that Surf Excel brother and sister ad.

The last one is the time when I probably had lost my calculator for the umpteenth time when I was in college.I was terrified of what my Dad would say.I was certain I was going to get screwed. I decided to ask my bro for a loan to buy a new one. He gave me this disgusted look and asked me, " why don't you just ask dad? He will blast you but will definitely get you a new one". When I told him that it was the second calculator I had lost in a year, he gave me this dry look and said "No. Why don't you just learn to face your stupidity?".A couple of hours later and a million under the breath raves and rants against my brother for being so insensitive, I found a brand new calculator lying on my desk and a short lecture on being more careful. I was amazed, yet touched.Never found the right words to thank him.

My brother is one of the most contradictory persons I have ever met. The birthdays I would ask him for a gift, he would tell me to get lost. Yet on the birthdays in which I didn't remind him off, I would find a gift lying on my study table and an indifferent, "Ah, Happy Birthday".

My brother has never been one for words. He would probably give me a disgusted look if I were ever to ask him if he cared about me. We don't really have anything to talk to each other about. I think its years since we had a decent conversation with each other.When we do talk our conversation is quite stilted and formal. Any stranger would be quite justified in thinking that we were just acquaintances if they were to overhear the kind of conversations we have.Yet none of it has ever really mattered to me. Because no conversation, no honeyed words of love, no hugs and kisses can replace what I do know that I have from my brother. Despite our indifference towards each other, I do know that I have someone I can always depend on when I'm stuck in a quagmire of shit.

P.S

Hey Bro! I know you never read my blogs. I probably will as usual get you a shirt or a music CD for your birthday the way I always have.But this is a special dedication to you for our 22.5 years of being bro and sis!! Happy Birthday, April 19th!!

INSOMNIA - FOR THOSE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

Last night my uncle told me about an apparently true incident which had happened to his grandfather. Considering that my uncle is seventy right now, I think this could be placed as having happened in the 1800s.

I don't know if you believe in ghosts. To be honest, I really don't know if I do either.Here goes.....

If you were to observe carefully any town which had a river running through it, you would probably notice that there always is a bridge that spans across the river connecting its two disjointed halves with a burial ground on either side. Even during the day time the gushing sounds of the river as it strikes the bank is an extremely overpowering one. Imagine it in the night time. The moon shining bright in a cloudless sky. The dry smoke that mildly mists above the ground that remain as final traces of the corpses burnt that day. The sounds of the river are no more just overpowering; they are also unnerving and quite eerie in the contrast to the silence that suffuses the night sky.

It had struck eleven one night. Unusually I had just completed my work and was trying to find my way home.Reluctantly , a man agreed to drive me across the bridge after much persuasion. In those days the mode of transport was a miniature caravan led by two horses. The caravan was open ended on both sides. One side seated the driver while the other had an iron rod across its middle to prevent a passenger from falling off in the event of sudden jerks and pulls.

I sat in the caravan right at the end one foot folded underneath me while the other dangled down.I gazed outside admiring the beauty of the river in the nightime.It looked magical, lit by moonlight. We were probably halfway across the bridge when I saw this lady leaning at its edge, her palms covering her face, sobbing. From what little I could see , she was beautiful.Slim, shapely, with milk pale hands and feet and exotic black hair cascading down her back. I could not really see her face. But what peeped out her hands was captivating. I turned to the cart driver and asked him to stop so we could console her in her sorrow and probably offer her a lift to the town. He ignored me and continued to whip his horses. We had hardly crossed a furlongh when the lady turned towards us and just stared. I was stunned. The body of an angel , the face of an old hag. She started to chase behind our caravan. We were travelling quite fast so I did not pay much heed. But much to my consternation, she was running extremely fast herself and was coming close to catching up. When she came near she lunged trying to grasp my leg which dangled down the side of the caravan.

In all haste I quicky dragged my leg inside, and crept closer towards the driver, huddling at his side. The driver turning back told me, "Whenever a corpse is burnt in the graveyard this lady tends to roam the bridge.Whatever else, we never stop, ignore her and try to go as fast as we can. We try to avoid travelling by night , but since you seemed desperate to get home I consented". We looked back to see that the lady was now close enough to grab the rod at the other end of the caravan. The driver quicky drove his whip to the horses , urging them to go faster. The horses were old and lame ones. They struggled. In those days, the end of each whip had a nail attached to it. When the horses is whipped the nail marks its hide and the pain tends to spur the horse to reach greater speeds. A wicked practice I know, but what you are used to , you do not look in askance at that.

We were lucky that night. We reached the end of the bridge without the lady reaching us. I was terribly shaken. I never crossed any bridge after that in the night time.