This is about elections.

But not the elections that are now on. It is about an election that took place twenty years ago to the legislative assembly in West Bengal, in five phases, between April 17 and May 8, 2006.

In 2004, I had moved to work in Calcutta’s Raj Bhavan, as it was then called. And shortly after I did so, I had my vote registration moved from Delhi to Calcutta. But having a vote is one thing, casting it is quite another. The first is about having the choice, the second is about making it. In the elections of April-May 2006, I was undecided as to whether I should exercise my right as a citizen and actually cast that vote. True, a governor does not cease to be a citizen when appointed to his high office. But then as governor can he say that he interrupts his governorship when he enters the voter’s booth and resumes being a governor when he emerges from it?

Let no one envy a governor! A governor is ever on the razor’s edge, or on the kshurasya dhara as it is called by the Kathopanishad (1.3.14).

Voting is a citizen’s right; thinking is a human right. I chose to exercise my human right to think and think aloud with a valued Raj Bhavan officer for my listener. It went more or less like this:

G: Voting is to happen tomorrow…

O: Sir.

G: I am thinking…

O: Sir.

G: Should I…?

O: Sir.

G: Or…

O: Sir.

G: President K.R. Narayanan voted in the 1998 elections to the Lok Sabha…

O: Sir.

G: That was much appreciated…

O: Sir.

G: Even the then defence minister, George Fernandes, sent a message to him of felicitations and issued a public statement hailing the president’s act as a democratic landmark. And he was called, rightly, Citizen President.

O: Sir…

G: Of course there was some criticism also. I was secretary to the president then and was not sure in my mind whether the president’s decision was right or wrong. He did not ask me, nor did he ask anyone else either. It was his personal, sovereign decision. Along with Mrs Usha Narayanan, he went to the designated booth, stood in the queue and voted.

O: Sir.

G: No one knew who he had voted for. Those who knew his background could have guessed at his choice but then only guessed. Time and circumstance can change things.

O: Sir.

G: Atalji and his BJP-led alliance won the elections, though narrowly. President Narayanan congratulated him and swiftly swore him into office in strict constitutional rectitude. No one questioned his impartiality.

O: Sir.

G: I suppose if I were to vote tomorrow that will be noted and commented upon.

O: Sir.

G: Favourably or unfavourably?

O: Sir, both.

G: Thank you, that is all.

Great advice can come monosyllabically. I chose to not vote.

Some excerpts follow, from my diary for May 2006, which are about the great election experience of that year, and for June and August 2006, which show, in two small cameos, the return of the rhythms of life, normal life, post-elections:

May 11:

The Left front has won by an overwhelming majority. Buddhababu is set to lead the world’s longest-running democratically elected communist government for a second time.

May 18:

The cabinet is sworn-in, Jyotibabu attending. I am a bit uncomfortable with the request that the ceremony be held not in the Throne Room, as per custom, inside Raj Bhavan but under a pandal to be erected in the lawns. The cost of Rs 11 lakh for the pandal seems to be high but it is Buddhababu’s day and I decide to say nothing except that the pandal not be dismantled immediately after the ceremony but kept going for a free entry recital that evening by Ustad Rashid Khan. The maestro excels himself, singing, at my request, a Tilak Kamod mesmerically.

July 23:

In Nabadwip for the day with Amitav Ghosh and family. Some graceful but decaying homes and temples around the figure of Chaitanya Mahaprabhu. The town is in real danger of being flooded or being washed over by the course-changing Bhagirathi.

August 25:

… to Naihati, where I see the birthplace of Bankim. His old two-storied house of many pillars is under restoration. Then to Shyamnagar, the football capital of West Bengal (after Kolkata) where the local Sports Club is honouring sport stalwarts. Sourav Ganguly is there, fit and frowning, which makes his occasional smile winsome.

When the 2009 elections were held for the Lok Sabha, I did vote from my designated booth in Calcutta. But as I had no post-election role then, there was no razor’s edge for me.

I do believe though that had I voted in 2006, the precedent set by President Narayanan would have indemnified my decision from misunderstanding, my electoral preference would have been between me and the election booth, my post-election role rendered simple by the emphatic mandate of the voters that year.

Viva India’s electoral democracy!

India, viva!