Being a First-Time Voter

So on last Thursday, I asked a few buddies who were packing up from their rented homes and taking the homeward bound trip to their respective voting places.

“Oh! I’m going to Newcastle,” said one.
“Wha... not voting?” I asked.
“Voting-laar! That’s why I’m going to Newcastle.”

I was as blur as a flipped pancake as the rest of the girls laughed and they too confessed that they’re going to vote in somewhere called Golden Sands, White Sands and even Highcastle.

At first I thought it was some new areas that had opened up while I was in thesis project hibernation, places with new Euro-type names like Pavilion, The Curve or Sunway, etc. Then I realized the joke, and it was made funnier because I actually thought those were literal places...

Golden Sands = Pasir Emas
White Sands = Pasir Puteh
Highcastle = Kota Tinggi
Newcastle = ... Kota Bharu

Gee, I wonder who’s going to Rock Caves or Pineapple Town and who’s staying at Mud Capital. Ai-yo-yo-yoi, we KL-coverts all so nak glamour about our hometowns.

What about me? Where’s my address says I should vote?

Well, I haven’t changed my IC address in ages when I registered so it’s back to the old home’s MBPJ Hall in D’sara Utama (sorry, no glamour name there *hehehe*). MySis and my big brother Arsenal were voting in the same place too but tall-and-stick-man Genius is still under-aged.

We took off on an early morning, at 8.30am because forecast weather says that it might rain cats-dogs-and-politicians that afternoon. Naturally, MySis can’t be pried out of house so early in the day so she isn’t coming along at the same time as we were and AbangHuzir goes to another place to vote.

Aaaah, the ol’ multi-purpose hall.

The last time I was here, it was on some old-ladies’charity dinner. Or was it a Datin’s daughter’s wedding? I can’t tell; all halls look all the same after the last 10 or so fancy-lacy function/buffet.

There was quite a line when we got there and a lot of parked cars too. I’m surprised people actually turned up this early to vote for the future of the nation. Well, not really surprised. Just kind of subtle sense of zealousness if you get what I mean.


For the queue’s long length, the actual process was pretty quick; we kept on moving.

On a personal basis, I’m not into politics. I don’t have either the zest to be a public servant nor do I have any particular fondness for any political parties. Who did I vote for? Well that’s my business and your rampant speculations.

What I didn’t like were a couple of old ladies in blue (indirect support for You-Know-Which-Party) that came up out of the blue to random senior Malay citizens while lining up in the queue (including my parents) and made a short small talk, like “Hi! I’m a complete-stranger-pretending-I-want-to-know-who-you-are-when-in-reality-I-want-you-to-vote-for-the-Dark-Blue-Party.”

The old lady who approached us was probably too tired/intimidated to play with words so she just asked if we would vote for BN. Semi-promo; I thought even that sly move was illegal within the 50 metres range of the voting place. I suppose a devil-in-the-ear at the last minute was a just toe out of line. Heh.


Rows are divided between ages; youngsters, working class, semi-retired and the greyheads.

There were no photos allowed in the hall itself; at least, not for non-media people. I didn’t try to risk taking photos because security men in blue were pretty much everywhere.

Which was okay because I planned to use game sprites anyway. Did you know that D’sara Utama is full of really old people? Either that or the voters between ages 22-30 just don’t want to show up before noon. If they ever showed up at all.

After I presented my IC and confirmed my number at the SPR table, I took up the queue at Boxroom No. 4. A really, really short queue. The really long one was the first row, full of people born in the 1940s. I felt like a veritable baby in that big hall.


I call ‘em Boxrooms because, well, they’re just plastic walls with 4 sides and no ceiling. And there are boxes in the Boxrooms too!

Okay! Got my name confirmed, been presented with two pieces of paper; one for the location and the other for the Parliament. I’m behind the little white cubicle with my back to the wall.

The first thing that got in my mind when I got behind the hidden table was ‘is this what men feels in public urinals when they have a pointy stick in their hand and thinking what to decide?’.

Yeah, I was pretty weird that Saturday. I was trying to not to think about how my decision maybe the single grain of rice that tips the scales. Ah, well...

Tick, tick.

Slot, slot.

60 seconds was all it took and I was out of the boxrooms.


My first time voting in general elections.

I was wondering if there are a lot of voters coming in from Blissful Hospital in Point of Rambutan?