I have been thinking about the election process and its entire organisation…. Just yesterday, while discussing this, I realised how much of it is held together completely by trust in the middle of a lot of uncertainty….
As the training sessions started, in that hall, there were more than a 1000 people attending the training, most listening intently, taking notes, absorbing instructions; many, perhaps, still trying to find out why their name came in the list.
What struck me was that many of those appointed had been quite literally plucked from varied backgrounds and institutions, people whose everyday work had nothing to do with elections, yet were suddenly entrusted with this responsibility. The zonal officer met his team booth wise only a day before the elections, almost entirely unaware of our individual capacities, experiences, or even intentions.
And yet, with this uncertainty, he began speaking to the people assigned to him, believing they would carry the entire work smoothly.
When the election duty appointments were out. The first unspoken hope is always the same, that my name should not appear. When I got the appointment letter, there was an initial sense of fear, followed by an almost unavoidable check on why only the first letter was processed and their duties cancelled, and what happened to subsequent requests.
But the reality settled, the first request was possible for them to accept but when the volume of cancellations increased they were short of people. I thought to myself that it would be just good to do it with calmness than to go through the anxiety by thinking otherwise. It will be done in 4 days. Training dates were announced, and study tour and classes were all rattled.
Even though I appeared calm and outwardly accepting of the duty, from within I was deeply frightened. The weight of being responsible for something so significant for the state was overwhelming. There were sleepless nights, reading the notes again and again, and preparing for the big two days…. read the notes…practiced the forms… watched the hands on video over and over again.
On the 14th, while marking attendance a day prior, the zonal officer asked each person questions to understand whether they were aware of their own roles. That moment marked the beginning of the 2 day process. The first day quietly became about teambuilding, getting to know one another, identifying gaps, understanding what kind of support each booth would need. Each team organized their booths, stationery, flow of work, and each person filled in for the other person's gap. The zonal officer spent 3 hours in the evening for one more training, solving doubts endlessly. Don't know how many people, how many times must have asked him the same thing over and over again. The zonal officer stood by all 13 teams, continuously circulating from booth to booth, checking progress at every stage.
The next day, he continued the same rhythm, moving constantly, reassuring teams, instilling confidence. This was especially important for our team, as concerns had already surfaced. Still, the zonal officer remained confident and calm that with collective effort and his support, we would manage and we did.
As I watched all 13 teams complete their work and board the bus on the 15th, I felt overwhelmed. The police force, the commissioner, and the zonal officers stood by each team tirelessly, ensuring that everything concluded systematically and well within time.
I can only imagine that if three rounds of training and two intense days left us exhausted, the sleepless nights of the police force and zonal officers must have been far greater. The election process is relentless. It demands calmness in the face of uncertainty, patience with people who may not want to participate, and steadiness amid pressure from all sides. Yet, witnessing it from within made it moving.
By around 5:30 in the evening, polling formally came to an end. What followed was an equally intense phase, assembling paperwork, sorting multiple forms, and carefully matching each document to the correct envelope. There were moments when we kept discussing the forms over and over again, to be certain about what needed to be written where, and which packet each form belonged to. Conversations moved across tables and booths, people checked with neighbouring teams to make sure all of us completed the work.
At the centre, there were 85 members, teams of 5-6 each. In those hours, it became clear that where one works or what designation one holds makes no difference. What matters is the willingness to help, to stay back, and to hold the process together. Still there were people who left but others covered up for them. The bus waited for all 13 teams to complete. If one team is taking time to complete, everyone waits.
The clarity with which our ZO handled was further confirmed when I reached the central office at 8:00 pm at night on 15th and saw people sitting in corridors, hurriedly filling forms. In that moment, I felt deeply grateful, for our training, for our zonal officer who endlessly kept checking each step for all teams, and for the police commissioner and his team, who supported us through the day.
There were moments of stress and situations that felt scary, but it all ended well. The tally at the end of two hours just assured us that we were on track and will close this well. I came a long way having made new friends and more importantly having witnessed this process up so close. It was intense, and with all my body paining and releasing the intense work it was a learning.