Time: 9.15am. Place: Near the gate of Power Towers, a co-operative housing estate at a corner of Street 77 in AE Block
The barricades are in place at the crossing. Parking the car at a distance, The Telegraph Salt Lake walks up. A group of about 20 youths is seated in front of the Urban Primary Health Centre 1 just across the road to the left. No sooner have I clicked a picture of the huddle, I am accosted by half a dozen muscular women who were standing on the Power Towers pavement.
“You cannot come this way.”
“Why?”
“Vote hochchhe.”
“That’s why I want to go.”
“No. You can’t. Go back.”
“She was taking photo.”
“Why did you take photo?
“It’s a public road. I can click anything I want.”
“No, you can’t. You clicked pictures of women. How dare you?”
“I did not. I clicked a picture of the other side (where the men were huddled).”
“No, no, you cannot click them.”
“Why? Who are they to you? I did not click you. Why are you bothered?”
“She is talking too much. Snatch her phone away.”
The women start pushing. A couple of men with their faces hidden behind hankerchieves join them. There is not a single policeman in sight. There is no option but to retreat as they keep pushing me back while mouthing threats.
“If you come back, you will not leave unharmed. Your phone will be taken away. This is your last warning.”
Walking back towards the car, one spots a group of uniformed policemen sitting huddled at the other end of the road, diagonally opposite the Utsa complex gate. Asked to go sit at the barricade instead, they lamely say they are from the traffic guard and are responsible only for traffic movement.
A senior citizen from AA Block too complains to them about being unable to go past the barricade to vote, stopped by the musclemen. “You may try telling them,” the traffic cops point to a Bidhannagar Police bus parked a stone’s throw away, a spot under a tree shade which is diagonally opposite the New Town deputy commissioner of police’s office.
Faced with the suggestion to be at the barricade, they say they are from the reserve lines and their movement is decided by “the authorities”. As we argue, the policemen simply get on the bus and the driver drives them away, leaving a jeep with two cops behind. “You should be ashamed of being in uniform and allowing this farce of an election to take place,” the senior citizen shouts at them.
Another man from AA Block says he had come to check on the scene as his wife was planning to come and cast her vote. “I will go tell her not to bother. It is not safe,” he says and walks away.
The Telegraph Salt Lake tries to reach the college from three other points — the road next to the parking of City Square (Street 104), the lane parallel to it on the other side of Pedestrian Plaza (Street 106) and next to Galleria Mall (Street 95). Everywhere we see other cars and pedestrians being turned away.
At the last point, seeing the deployment of musclemen at the thinnest, I get off the car and slip through a small gap in the barricade. “You can’t come in like that,” two men stationed here protest. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt me. See, I have already passed,” I say and before they can call for reinforcements I walk resolutely towards Central Mall, ignoring their calls asking me where I was intending to go. Finally, Dr APJ Abdul Kalam Government College comes into view. There is not a single policeman outside the gate. Some uniformed policemen and women are chatting seated in chairs inside the driveway, away from the gate. No body is bothered about checking identity cards.
None of the 12 booths at the college had a single polling agent from the Opposition parties. In one, a sturdy six-footer with a polling agent’s card tried obstructing the door of the booth in open view of the policemen in the corridor when The Telegraph Salt Lake tried to enter. In another, the presiding officer was away and a man was seen lingering in the vote casting area for an inordinately long time.
On spotting The Telegraph Salt Lake watching intently at the door, a polling agent steps into the covered area to speak to him and they come out. He surprisingly casts a single ballot (and not three, as there are three candidates to be elected for the three-tier panchayat). The presiding officer appears after a few minutes.
While all the booths are almost devoid of voters, there is a queue outside the booth of Part 286. This part comprises voters from the immediate vicinity — the college itself is in BA Block which is under this part — and therefore had a better chance of being within the barricaded area.
Trinamul Congress candidate Anupam Maity, himself a resident of the block, (and the only Trinamul candidate in the fray who stays in the NKDA area), is an active presence in the corridor. (Refer to Page 3 for an account on his CPM counterpart, who also stays in the same block).
Failed attempt, twice over
The Telegraph Salt Lake would return to this polling station in the dying minutes of polling time. Two women, who later identify themselves as Anjana and Tanushree Das, are rushing in. Many policemen are already leaving. “We were not allowed to reach here in the morning. You must let us vote,” Anjana demands as she strides down the corridor.
But they have no clue which their booth is. On hearing they are from CE Block, The Telegraph Salt Lake helps them narrow down their option to two parts. But the sheets bearing the part numbers and EPIC lists have already been taken off the walls next to the room entrances. They can find only one booth where the information is still intact and the presiding officer agrees to let them vote if they can find themselves on the list.
But in spite of Tanushree’s best efforts, their names are not to be found on the list pasted outside. The clock ticks past five o’clock. “Our toto driver was intimidated by a group of men when we arrived near the college at 7am. A group refused to let us get off and made him take a U turn. What’s worse, later at the DA Block toto stand, we saw a policeman telling the toto drivers that they were not allowed to be at the stand on election day. How would voters reach the booth if public transport is taken off the road?” Anjana says.
“We want this election to be cancelled and repolling ordered. Ei vote ta abar hok. Ei bhabe doriye dhomkiye vote kora thik na (It is unfair to hold an election under such coercion),” Tanushree says, as they leave.