There are lions in India. At least 523 of them, according to the 2015 census, though unofficial counts put the number north of 600.
Unlike
their more glamorous tiger cousins, who live across the country in
natural reserves, the Asiatic lions are all concentrated in one
location: Gir forest, a large savannah-like setting in the Junagadh
district of Gujarat. They live there, protected by wildlife laws and
hopefully multiplying, with hundreds of leopards—which are far more
ferocious, and dangerous to humans—and a much rarer species: A lone
specimen of Indian election voter.
With
the exception of monsoon season, the Gir landscape would be more akin
to a desert, if it weren’t for the plants that somehow grow here. The
trees that emerge from the powdery ground are mostly bare, precariously
holding onto a few dusty leaves, their trunks and branches bent in
knotty shapes. They can be so light in color that they look like
sculpted marble.
Temperatures
reach above 110°F (43°C), and it does not rain for months, turning
everything the color of sand. Indigenous lions, leopards, deer, jackals,
and blackbucks have an easy time blending into the camouflage.
Carelessly vain, only the peacocks stand out, like mirages amid the
monotony.
Nested 35 km (about 22 miles) inside
the forest, more than a two-hour drive through very bumpy roads and
relatively far from where the lions like to spend their time, stands
Banej. By a small stream from which emerge the bulging eyes of
crocodiles, a modest temple is dedicated to Lord Shiva. It is the home
of Guru Baharatdas Darshandas, a 68-year-old monk originally from Pali,
Rajastan, who acts as its caretaker.
Darshandas
lives there, and can usually be found sitting in a room decorated by
old photographs (including one of his meeting with Narendra Modi in a
nearby location) and religious paraphernalia, all washed out by the
harsh Gujarati sun. He is not lonely. The universal rule of religious
pilgrimages applies here: No matter how remote a holy place may be,
busloads of devotees will show up. About 100 per day do so, according to
Anil Solanki, the forest patrol officer for the area,. The numbers grow
to more than over 1,000 for festivals.
https://qz.com/india/1607559/how-the-lone-voter-in-indias-gir-forest-casts-his-ballot/
https://qz.com/india/1607559/how-the-lone-voter-in-indias-gir-forest-casts-his-ballot/
Every
election cycle since Dashandas moved to Banej, there is a very
different pilgrimage to Banej—one that ends just a few hundred meters
from the temple. It’s a mission to perform the fundamental ritual for
the secular deity of democracy. For two days, a team turns the local
forest department building into a polling booth, for the law demands
that every citizen of India be given a voting location within two
kilometers of their home. The booth cannot be set up in a religious or
private building.
Darshandas votes every time. The Banej polling place, which falls under the Junagadh constituency, has a 100% turnout.
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