Two Years’ Work in One Month: The Human Cost of India’s SIR Exercise

BLO Protest in West Bengal over SIR Exercise: The streets of Kolkata witnessed a rare sight this November—hundreds of booth level officers (BLOs), the backbone of India’s electoral machinery, marching in protest against what they described as “inhuman” work pressure under the Special Intensive Revision (SIR) exercise. Their slogan, “Do saal ka kaam ek mahine mein” captures the essence of the crisis: a task that historically takes years has been compressed into weeks, with devastating consequences for those tasked to execute it.

SIR Exercise & BLOs Death Cases

The SIR, rolled out across 12 states and Union Territories, requires BLOs to distribute and collect enumeration forms, cross-check them against electoral rolls dating back to 2002, and upload the data into a new Election Commission app. On paper, the exercise is meant to streamline voter lists and ensure accuracy. In practice, however, it has become a punishing ordeal. Teachers, assistant teachers, and other frontline government employees—already burdened with their primary duties—are being asked to perform exhaustive house-to-house verification within a month. The result has been chaos, illness, and, tragically, death.  

Since the beginning of November, at least 16 BLOs have died across the country, according to reports cited by opposition leaders. Bengal alone has witnessed three deaths of women BLOs, two by suicide. In Rajasthan, Mukesh Jangid, a 45-year-old BLO, allegedly jumped in front of a train after working 12-hour days. In Kerala’s Kannur, BLO Aneesh George took his own life. In Gujarat, another BLO succumbed to stress. Hari Om Barwa, a young teacher in Sawai Madhopur, collapsed and died, his family attributing the tragedy to relentless workload. These are not isolated incidents but part of a disturbing pattern that reveals the human cost of administrative haste.  

The BLO Adhikar Raksha Committee, which organized the Kolkata protest, has warned that unless deadlines are extended and working conditions improved, they will launch continuous demonstrations. Their grievances are not limited to workload alone. Many BLOs complain of unreimbursed expenses—money spent on files, data packs, and transport. In Gujarat, BLOs are reportedly paid a mere Rs 2,000 for their duties, while the Primary Teacher Federation has demanded Rs 1 crore in compensation for families of deceased officers. The disparity between the enormity of the task and the meager support offered is stark.  

The political response has been equally sharp. Bengal chief minister Mamata Banerjee has urged the Election Commission to halt the exercise, arguing that BLOs are being pushed beyond human limits. Rahul Gandhi, citing media reports, declared that “SIR is no reform, it’s an imposed tyranny,” drawing parallels to past policy shocks like demonetisation. Mallikarjun Kharge went further, likening the forced implementation of SIR to the chaos of the Covid lockdown, accusing the BJP of prioritizing power over human lives. These statements reflect a broader unease: the exercise, intended as a technical correction, has spiraled into a national controversy with echoes of past governance failures.  

The administration’s response, however, has leaned towards coercion rather than compassion. FIRs have been filed against BLOs in Noida, where over 60 officers and seven supervisors face charges of negligence. In Uttar Pradesh, BLOs in Allahabad have refused duties, citing hostility from electors who reject the forms. Instead of addressing systemic flaws, authorities appear to be criminalizing resistance, deepening the sense of alienation among frontline staff.  

At the heart of this crisis lies a fundamental contradiction. Electoral integrity is vital to democracy, but the means of achieving it cannot disregard the dignity and well-being of those who implement it. BLOs are not machines; they are teachers, clerks, and community workers whose primary roles already demand time and energy. To impose a two-year workload within a month is not reform but administrative violence. The deaths, suicides, and illnesses are not collateral damage—they are evidence of a system that has failed to balance efficiency with humanity.  

The parallels drawn by opposition leaders to demonetisation and the Covid lockdown are not accidental. Both were instances where sweeping policy decisions were implemented hastily, without adequate planning or consideration for human consequences. The SIR exercise, though smaller in scale, reflects the same pattern: a top-down directive executed at breakneck speed, leaving those at the bottom to bear the brunt. The Election Commission, traditionally seen as a neutral guardian of democracy, risks losing credibility if it is perceived as complicit in such coercion.  

What is BLO's Demand?

The demand for reform is clear. BLOs need realistic timelines, adequate compensation, and logistical support. They should not have to pay out of pocket for files or data packs. Families of deceased officers deserve justice and financial security. Most importantly, the Commission must recognize that electoral accuracy cannot come at the cost of human lives. Extending deadlines, revising procedures, and engaging with BLO committees are not concessions but necessities.  

The Kolkata protest is more than a labor agitation; it is a warning bell for India’s democratic institutions. When the very officers entrusted with safeguarding electoral rolls are driven to despair, the legitimacy of the process itself is endangered. A democracy that exhausts and endangers its workers undermines its own foundation. The slogan “Two years’ work in one month” is not just a cry of frustration—it is a reminder that governance must be measured not only in efficiency but in humanity.  

If the Election Commission fails to act, the SIR exercise may achieve its technical goals but at the cost of trust, morale, and lives. That is a price too high for any democracy to pay. The deaths of BLOs across Bengal, Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Kerala are not statistics; they are stories of individuals caught between duty and despair. Their sacrifice should compel the nation to pause, reflect, and reform. For in the end, the strength of India’s democracy lies not only in its voter rolls but in the dignity of those who prepare them.