Khader’s decision to contest in the elections was published in the Travancore Nesan. The newspaper printed Khader’s picture just as it had printed Dhamu’s, which people considered evidence of its impartiality. They were not surprised, therefore, when the Travancore Nesan published an editorial ruthlessly attacking Dhamu and urging every self-respecting citizen of the Thirteenth Ward to cast their votes for Khader. In their opinion, the Nesan was simply continuing its impeccable service to the community. They gossiped about the editorials that were to follow, eager to see how the paper would rip Dhamu apart. Everyone knew that once Isakki began digging into a sewer, he dug wide and deep—he always did a thorough job, our Isakki. So they were quite hopeful.

The election grew to a feverish pitch. As expected, it grew more intense each day. There were impassioned speeches, attacks, counterattacks. Local firebrands cried themselves hoarse and ruined their throats at rallies, but they pushed through the strain until, eventually, their throats had to relent and open up. After that, they were unstoppable. Political leaflets circulated with no mention of the publisher’s name on them. Green, red, purple, light green, pink, violet . . . so many colors! The kids had a great time. They collected as many leaflets as they could, stuffing them into their bags and showing off their collections to each other with pride. Speakers now pounded their fists on the podium. Women, who were usually stuck inside their homes for most of the day and bored, now simply had to step out onto their front steps to witness the spectacle of the political rally. They quite enjoyed watching the podium-pounding. The streets of the Thirteenth Ward were abuzz with activity. There was always something new to hear and discuss. Even the habitually lazy were now caught up in the excitement.

Dhamu was definitely shaken up by Khader’s decision to contest, but he kept it to himself. There were a considerable number of Muslim votes in that constituency. Votes from the Vellala community came next, split into two blocs, the patrilineal and matrilineal groups. The matrilineal one was split into five subgroups and the patrilineal into three. In Dhamu’s tentative calculation, if everything worked out fine, he could count on considerable votes from most of these groups. People from one of the patrilineal groups were saying that they would rather vote for a Muslim than for someone from their rival matrilineal community, but then they felt that nothing justified voting for a Muslim, so they might as well not vote at all. Apparently, one young lad objected to this, and said, “It’s an unforgivable sin not to vote in a democracy!” To which an elder had replied, “Yeah? What’s it to you? Mind your own business!” All this was reported in the Nesan by one “Town Sparrow.”