Kolkata: West Bengal was at the crossroads of history and my first vote could determine the path it would traverse. So, after waiting since childhood to step into a polling booth, D-day finally arrived on Wednesday.
Upon entering the Netaji Nagar Vidyamandir polling centre in south Kolkata's Tollygunge constituency, I was high on adrenalin, but also feeling the weight of responsibility.
I have never been too interested in politics as sports is my cup of tea. But as a student of journalism, I have to keep track of political happenings. In my own state, I was well aware the Communists who had ruled for 34 years were battling a determined opposition charge for regime change.
At the booth, security personnel milled around. There was a huge queue in front of one room, a smaller one in front of another and the last one with the smallest. I checked my voting slip and accordingly joined, unfortunately, the longest one!
My father and uncle voted and went home, advising me to put my mobile phone on silent mode. There were around five polling officers in one room and the EVM lay covered in thick brown paper on four sides. The heart skipped a beat.
Finally my turn came. I stood in front of the first polling officer. He shouted out my number written on the slip to one of his colleagues. I looked at him and he smiled back. To be honest, that smile helped me overcome the goosebumps.
My voter card verified, I walked up to the second officer as he asked me to sign. He too verified the voter card and jotted down some information. Then I moved on to pass the final hurdle before meeting my ballot. The third officer drew the famous purple line on my tip of the first finger of my left hand.
I felt proud. The realisation that I was now free to exercise my constitutional right, gave me a sense of confidence before casting that all-important vote.
I stood there, had a good look at the machine which had all the candidates' names printed on it with their parties' symbol following suit. As I pressed the button, a loud and prolonged beep filled the room and I could feel that my vote had been cast.
Aged 21, voter ID in hand, as I walked out of the room, only one sentence ran through my mind: I have the power.
(Debayan Mukherjee writes for IANS)
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