Indian elections begin amid chaos and excitement

A dusty slum in the centre of Delhi last November: some saree-clad women are trying to sell henna tattoos, others are begging. Vijay Jolly, a balding politician in a saffron shirt, plants himself at a desk, and starts uninterestedly handing out bread pakoras to a hungry crowd. While he scowls and doles out the snacks, Jolly speaks to a cameraman about how he aspires to solve the capital's problems.

Loitering nearby are a gaggle of teenage boys, all enjoying a day out in a jeep with loudspeakers, none able to explain quite why they support Jolly and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), the Hindu nationalists which he represents. Somebody mentions that Congress, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh's ruling party, haven't done enough to stop crime in Delhi, and the excited teenagers try to get me to pose for a photo with their campaign poster, a picture of a woman in agony.

India, a country where 714m can vote, and almost 800m can't get safe drinking water, is, thanks largely to its astonishingly accepting national character, a functioning democracy where national elections will take place this April and May.

To its west lies a failed state, to the north a repressive dictatorship and between them, Afghanistan. But, though the hundred-strong gangs of whistle-blowing bikers who swarm through Indian towns in party colours may resemble a throng following a Pashtun warlord, Indian elections somehow work. Their fragile success makes the country both a regional miracle, and an all-too-necessary ally for the West.

India, where 800m people can’t get safe drinking water, is a working democracy

Obviously though, in a land where the state is often unable to afford any local presence of the sort that a council would provide in the UK, not everything goes smoothly. Historically, buried religious and caste tensions have surfaced as polling approaches. In the months running up to November's round of state elections, before the Mumbai attacks grabbed the world's attention, successive bomb blasts around the country had left over 250 dead. In one state, Chhattisgarh, Maoist rebels seized voting machines, set off a landmine and kidnapped election officials. Elsewhere, these new-fangled electronic voting machines were looted.

These heightened tensions mean that troops and the police, usually seen casually fondling their antique rifles or demanding small bribes from traffic offenders, suddenly have a vital role to play. On the day a state goes to the polls, they make sure that no buses leave town, that roads are interrupted with checkpoints, and that alcohol is banned.

This time round, in one incident, a BJP politician was shot by the brother of a rival Congress candidate after they'd argued at a polling booth, and died from his neck wounds on the way to hospital. When hundreds took to the streets in protest, and pelted the local police station with stones, the authorities had to fight back, and enforce a curfew.

Soon afterwards, in Orchha, a local town that makes its money from tourism, every shop was obediently shuttered down, and even buying a bottle of water illicit. In Kashmir, amidst calls by separatist groups for a boycott, the elections were divided district by district and held on seven separate days. Thousands of paramilitaries had to guard the candidates and polling booths; several protestors were killed

When the results come in, the tensions are, at least superficially, replaced by celebration. This means more crowds, who take to the streets, unfurling banners and throwing coloured powder on themselves and their cows. In one village, the owner of a newly-refurbished hotel had hired a brass band and dressed his waiters in their best matching turbans in honour of the winning candidate.

And what of Vijay Jolly, the politician in the slum? He tried to make political capital out of a statement his rival had made, saying she'd rather walk than take one of the capital's buses. Jolly and his entourage went on a tour of the bus lines "to feel the pulse of the common man", but only ended up annoying the bus drivers and delaying commuters.

On one night, while he was speaking to workers on the campaign trail, The Hindu reported that some "unidentified miscreants" threw stones and broke his jeep's windscreen. Ultimately, despite his stunts - and promises of drinking water - Jolly wasn't able to unseat the Congress candidate.

Nor is it likely, when national votes are counted on May 16, that the BJP's 81-year-old leader, blogging enthusiast LK Advani, will come to power. But with India's juggernaut economic growth now slowing, Congress, despite the impact that promoting the young, charismatic and famously-surnamed Rahul Gandhi has had, are unlikely to do that well either.

With both main parties stumbling, small parties, regional parties, caste parties and even Communists are going to have a say in who takes power. ·