When you’ve spent five years waiting for an election like a woman in a desert waiting for rain, Murphy’s law states that a week before the election begins, you will lose your voter card.
I didn’t realise that immediately, of course. One evening I sauntered over to the pouch in which I keep all the super important stuff, like my PAN card and my sentimental aircraft boarding cards and my LED headlamp. I observed that the voter card wasn’t there, so I looked four more times, because denial. Then I searched around in that general area, peeking under newspaper lining,
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