“Dada, edikey ektu dekhun. Amra apnar cinema dekhey boro hoyechi (Dada, do look this way. We grew up watching your films),” shouts a taxi driver waving frantically at Baker, who has begun walking from the podium to his campaign vehicle—an open jeep. Kept from running up to Baker by the swelling crowd in between, the cabbie is desperate for eye contact. Cars, buses, vans, cycles, rickshaws and trucks also find themselves stuck in a jam, but not many seem to be cribbing. “Ey toh legei aachhe. Vote-er shomoy to dhorei nite hobe jey ektu aadhtu jam hobe (This is nothing unusual during polls. We have to take such jams in our stride),” comments a rickshaw-puller sagely. The grumpy, middle-aged woman on his rickshaw, however, is not that forgiving. All she grumbles is, “I don’t know who the candidate is, nor do I know the party. Don’t even want to, just want to go home fast.”