Maheep Dhillon, 42, Film-maker, Mumbai

Where is Shillong anyway? In Mumbai, I’ve often had to answer that question. My father was in the air force and since he was posted in places all over the country, I know about Shillong. But every time I mention Shillong, I’m asked, where is it?

As far away and as small it may seem to people in big cities, Shillong is a thriving town, the capital of Meghalaya in the North-East. People there are fully aware of the issues that confront them and know what they want from the government and local administrators. The level of commitment among voters in Shillong is very high. I know this because I went there to shoot a movie for the Election Commission of Meghalaya and the two questions I asked, “Will you vote and why will you vote?” crushed the stereotypes about a place too far away to matter.

I want people to watch this movie not just for its message, but also to realise and acknowledge that this beautiful land is part of their country, since it’s clear that many people have no idea at all about India’s North East.

India has two strengths – our youth and our secular diversity. We may complain about our education system, but it churns out very smart people with average IQ levels much higher than anywhere else in the world. My 16-year-old daughter is much smarter than I could even imagine being when I was 20. Today, I can never say that anyone is too young to know anything. And as a country, India has managed to achieve much social and economic development. You will be amazed by the number of subcultures that exist in one small city. But despite this diversity, we manage to hold together as a nation and that’s a strength we can never undermine.

We are an amazing country, but we lack good governance and good leadership. Everyone I speak to is fed up. They are fed up of the Congress and the BJP, the two biggest national political parties, and are going the AAP way. Though they are unsure of the AAP because of its lack of a political foundation since the party came into being just recently, the shift in their thinking is primarily because AAP is projecting a new India – a corruption-free India that wants intelligent leadership.

I am a Sardarni. I was in school during the anti-Sikh riots of 1984 when Congress workers wreaked revenge on the Sikh community after Indira Gandhi [then Prime Minister of India and Congress leader] was assassinated by her Sikh bodyguards. I remember witnessing a surge of hatred among all of us – Sikh and non-Sikh towards the Congress. The same thing happened in Gujarat under Narendra Modi. It might be a late awakening, but people have had enough of that.

When you don’t want someone with a history of sexual molestation to be your representative, would you want someone tainted with even the idea of communal hatred to occupy the Prime Minister’s office? I don’t say this because I experienced communal violence. Thankfully, nobody I know was affected during the 1984 riots. But even had it happened to Parsis, Muslims or Hindus, I would have felt the same magnitude of hatred. Your community makes no difference to me.

I have complete antipathy towards any party with a communal past. A 55-year-old gentleman says Modi is his God.  I ask him, from what point of view are you saying this? From the point of view of economic reforms, progress or development, or because someone close to you wasn’t murdered by Modi’s supporters? When you see an accident on the road, you are saddened, but you move on. However, you have to realise that it could have happened to you.

We bleed to pay our taxes, but what do we get in return? As people, not just as women, we need personal security. If you in government don’t utilise public money well, don’t pay police forces, don’t give the public better health facilities and better education instead of plumping up your own bank accounts, we will continue to have security issues. If you don’t take quick decisions, you don’t set a good example. Your leadership cannot say things like ‘boys will make mistakes’.

I want complete accountability and infrastructural facilities from my elected government. If my road is pothole-ridden when I need to get my grandmother to the hospital, I need to know who I can catch hold of.

Our infrastructure is abysmal. The electoral ward office in my neighbourhood is a hole in the wall, manned by people with very basic levels of literacy, who are rude and unorganised. You enter and are rendered clueless. The state government website, almost predictably, keeps hanging.

I am aware that the Election Commission is a fair, autonomous body and all the gunda-gardi (thuggery) that happens, happens at the political party level. But I have no idea why there is such a dearth of organisation. If you want people to vote, shouldn’t you make the process easier?

At the electoral ward, I saw an old burqa-clad woman, holding the registration form, trying to make sense of it by asking people around. No one could help, but her persistence didn’t fade. I see this persistence among voters today and it really touches me.

I am 42 and in my adulthood, I have seen a lot of general elections but I have never before experienced this huge wave of awakening that I sense among people today. This will be the first time I vote and blatantly say that our candidates suck; that they reek of jingoism.

But I am sure of one thing: the next elections will throw up brilliant candidates. The surge of energy today will definitely crystallise by tomorrow. I relate to the AAP for its ideologies but established political parties must also give us something like the AAP. We are waiting. We are hungry for change!

As told to Apekshita Varshney. This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.