A recently published supplementary electoral roll from Metiabruz’s Part 127 offers a small but revealing snapshot of a much larger problem. According to the list, 275 names have been added to the voter roll—185 men and 90 women. At the same time, 98 names have been deleted—54 men and 44 women.
These numbers, on their own, might appear routine. Electoral rolls are regularly updated; additions and deletions are part of administrative maintenance. But the question is not whether names are added or removed. The question is: who gets removed, and what happens to them next?
Among the 98 deleted names is that of Shahjada Sultan, a 78-year-old long-time resident. His case raises immediate concerns. His family members—his son, daughter-in-law, daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren—continue to remain on the voter list. Only his name has been excluded from the list.
The Human Cost of Administrative Anomalies
This is not merely an administrative anomaly. It is an example of a deeper structural issue: a system that can remove a citizen, but does not clearly explain the removal or ensure an accessible path to correction. This article does not seek to establish intent or draw definitive conclusions; it examines publicly reported figures and procedural developments to ask whether the current system, at this scale, can function with clarity and consistency.
What makes the case of Shahjada Sultan significant is that it does not stand alone. Across West Bengal, a large-scale electoral roll revision is underway. Recent reports indicate that around 60 lakh voter records were placed under adjudication during this process, with tens of lakhs already examined. But what is emerging from the process is not clarity—it is a contradiction.
The supplementary voter lists, which are meant to provide transparency after claims and objections are resolved, have themselves become a source of confusion. Reports indicate that the first such lists were released late at night, without clear disclosure of how many names had been added or removed. More significantly, there are serious discrepancies between decisions and outcomes.
Technical Glitches and the Gap of 15 Lakh Voters
According to reports by The Times of India and The Economic Times, approximately 37 lakh cases have been adjudicated, but only around 22 lakh names have appeared in the published lists—leaving nearly 15 lakh cases unaccounted for. This is not a marginal discrepancy. It is a gap of 15 lakh individuals between adjudication and visibility.
The explanation offered—technical issues such as missing electronic signatures—raises further concerns. If a case has been decided, how does a technical layer prevent that decision from appearing in the electoral roll? At what point does administrative failure begin to affect substantive rights? Reports have also pointed to server glitches and access issues, making it difficult for voters to verify their status in the lists. In such a situation, the burden shifts entirely onto the citizen.
Formally, there is a remedy. Individuals whose names have been deleted can file claims or appeals. But how workable is that remedy? Typically, such appeals must be filed within a narrow window—often around 15 days. Within this period, an individual must determine that their name has been deleted, understand the reason for deletion, gather relevant documentation, and navigate the procedural steps required for appeal. When the system itself is unclear, this becomes less a remedy and more an obstacle.
Operational Capacity and the Math of Exclusion
To understand the scale of this challenge, it is useful to consider the experience of the National Register of Citizens Assam. In Assam, around 19 lakh people were excluded, approximately 200 Foreigners Tribunals were set up, and individuals were given 120 days to appeal. Even with this infrastructure, the system faced significant strain.
A simple numerical breakdown illustrates the issue. If each tribunal hears 20 cases per day:
200 tribunals × 20 cases = 4,000 cases per day
19 lakh cases ÷ 4,000 ≈ 475 days (~1.3 years)
This assumes ideal conditions—no delays, no adjournments, and full capacity utilization. In reality, the system faced significant strain.
Now consider West Bengal.
~60 lakh records under adjudication
37 lakh cases already decided
15 lakh not reflected in lists
Appeal window: ~15 days
Tribunal capacity: not clearly scaled or disclosed
Even if Bengal were to match Assam’s capacity, the numbers remain daunting. At 4,000 cases per day, 60 lakh cases would require 1,500 days (~4+ years). But unlike Assam, the timeline is far shorter, the process shows documented inconsistencies, and the scale is significantly larger.
This leads to a fundamental question: Is the system operationally capable of delivering justice at this scale? Because a right that exists only in principle, but cannot be exercised in practice, is not a meaningful right. The issue, therefore, is not simply political. It is structural.
Why are 15 lakh adjudicated cases not reflected in the lists? Why were supplementary lists released without clear data? Why are technical issues determining electoral visibility? How is a 15-day appeal window sufficient for millions? What is the actual capacity of the appellate system?
These are not rhetorical questions. They are operational ones. Returning to Metiabruz’s Part 127, the situation of the 98 deleted voters remains unresolved. What should they do? Approach tribunals within a narrow window, navigating a process that is itself unclear? Wait for corrections in a system that has already shown inconsistencies? Or accept exclusion from a process that is meant to be universal?
At what point does procedure itself become exclusion? A democracy is not defined only by the existence of elections. It is defined by the clarity, accessibility, and reliability of the processes that determine who gets to participate in them. When those processes become opaque, inconsistent, and difficult to navigate, the issue is no longer about individual cases. It is about the system itself.
