A Few Good People

Corruption is the flavor of the day and no other issue has captured public attention in the manner that Corruption has. Not surprisingly, in the recent past there has been a spurt in the public expiation of personal wrongdoing by the famous and not-so-famous; and givers as well as takers. I am sharing a personal experience of a slightly different kind.

An important life lesson was learnt on a train one summer evening in 1981.

I was traveling from Ahmedabad- where my parents lived then-to Bangalore (Bengaluru) where I was doing my post-graduation in the Indian Institute of Science. Train connectivity was poor in those days and one had to change trains at Bombay (Mumbai) and Guntakal. Making reservations for all the stages of the journey was a difficult and complicated process. On that trip I did not have a reservation for the Guntakal-Bangalore leg and boarded a reserved coach confident that I could manage the TTE (Train Ticket Examiner) for a berth.

The TTE on this coach was an elderly man and probably close to retirement. As the train pulled out of Guntakal, he got down to the task of checking the reservations. His manner was brusque and businesslike. As he paused in his work, I caught his attention and requested a berth. He told me that the coach was full and that I would have to leave the coach at the station.

I did not give up as I was used to the rapaciousness of the TTEs on the Ahmedabad-Bombay route and assumed that it was only a matter of time before the TTE and I would discuss “business”.  I was the only person in the coach who did not have a reservation; so I rated my chances of success as rather high.

The TTE looked up from his work and was annoyed to see that I was shadowing him.

“What do you want?” he asked, “I have already told you that there is no vacancy.”

I gave him that syrupy, ingratiating smile hoping that he would get the message. He got the message and, in full view of the passengers, gave me a tongue lashing that I have not quite got over even today.

“What kind of a person do you think I am? Do I seem the type who can be bought? Do expect me to make a berth for you with your money? What do you young people think of yourselves? Is this what my country is coming to?”

He went on in this vein and after sometime ordered me to stand near the door and get off at the next station. The alternative was being handed over to the police for traveling without a valid ticket.  Humiliated and defeated, I headed to the door and mentally prepared myself for a sleepless night in a dirty, crowded and smoky coach.

A few minutes later, the TTE called me over and told me to occupy a berth left vacant by a passenger who did not show up. Head bowed, I mumbled my thanks and paid the reservations charges. He made out the receipt and returned the exact change.  He then asked me to join him for a chat at his seat near the door.

By then his demeanor had changed.  His work over, he became a kind and concerned uncle. He apologized for his outburst and went on to criticize his generation for setting a wrong example to young people. He spoke about his own struggle to resist temptation and his isolation among his colleagues. To Mr Sampath- that was name of the TTE- honor and integrity mattered more than anything  else.

Surprisingly, Mr Sampath did not once admonish me for my impudence; nor did he advise me on morals. He spoke simply , matter-of-factly and without rancour. Then we talked about my studies for a few minutes. Soon, it was time for bed. I was tired and wanted to sleep in order to be reasonably alert in class the following morning

“Goodnight, young man,” he said, “do well and bring credit to your family. My shift will end in a few hours and I will be getting off the train when you will still be asleep”.

I went to my berth but, in spite of my exhaustion, could not sleep.

During the course of my career  I realized that things happen not due the “corrupt-but- efficient” many but the dedicated few who place service before self and discharge their duties honestly, diligently and with no expectation of a reward. Whenever I am tempted to take the short-cut, Mr Sampath returns to my mind. I do not claim to be perfect but I have also learned that patience and respect for the rules go a long way in avoiding battles with our conscience. It is people like Mr Sampath who give spine to the struggle against corruption. Without them the Lokpal-or any other- Bill- will remain just one among the countless laws that we have.  Thank you, Mr Sampath, wherever you are.

The war on Corruption

Some posts back I took an irreverent view of  corruption in public life and one man's crusade against it. I feel less sanguine now, and more so as battle lines between Government and "Civil Society" have clearly drawn. A dangerous game of brinkmanship is being played out by both sides with no clear outcome in sight. As always, it is the people who will suffer. Here are my views for what they are worth.

Anna Hazare’s movement against corruption is developing farcical dimensions and I am uneasy about the outcome. The anxiety is compounded by the realization that, being a member “civil society”, I am supposed to be different from the class of people I have elected.

First, the authorities found that releasing their prisoner was easy. The hard part was in getting Anna to leave jail!

Then Anna negotiated (browbeat would be a more appropriate term here) with the police about the location and duration of his fast. The last I heard, he was given permission to go without food for fifteen days. By then, I assume,  the Government would blink first or Anna would give up

This was followed by a gesture that has no precedent. I am referring to the Delhi Police’s action in arranging the infrastructure –as it were- for the event! Going by media reports, they have spared no efforts- tents, platforms, electricity.

The media, too,  has gone on overdrive. As matters stand today, Anna Hazare, the person, has become much, much bigger than the cause he is fighting for. He is well on his way to being anointed a Mahatma. So we have hundreds of millions of Indians hanging on to his every word, and reading meanings in every gesture.

Celebrities and public figures, many of whom have benefited by winking at the law, have sprouted halos after joining Anna.

Colleges -many of them guilty of taking illegal donations- have allowed staff time off to participate in protests.

Young people waving flags show policemen the middle finger as they speed past traffic lights.

Is this what the movement against corruption is all about? Could we not have gone about it differently? I think the time has come for everyone to stand back and take a deep breadth.

We have several oversight and regulatory bodies already. Let them do their work without fear or favor. How is the Lokpal expected to be different?

Unfortunately, our institutions and political processes have been so badly subverted by corruption that people’s faith in them has eroded almost completely. Still, the big bang approach favoured by the proponents of Lokpal is not likely to work because it will, sooner or later, subsumed into the system.

I believe that victory in the war against corruption will be the sum of wins in local battles. Such an approach demands that we stop making a spectacle of ourselves in front of television cameras and put our money where our mouths lie. For a start, volunteer groups can picket government offices and report on corruption as it occurs. The campaign must be sustained and there must be no let up in intensity till the guilty either mend their ways or are punished.

As for our politicians, they owe their existence to “civil society”.  Let the message be clear that our votes matter and they will be personally answerable to their constituency for their party’s failures.

Next week, I will be accompanying my daughter when she goes to the Regional Transport Office to get her learner’s driving license. I understand that many of the staff has gone on leave to join Anna Hazare.  But my work will be done if….

Let’s see. I might even start a fast to get my work done.

Urban Landscape- Dreams in Concrete

Chhota sa ghar hoga baadalon ki chhaon mein,

Aasha ki diwani man mein baansuri bajaaye…

( A small home in the shadow of the clouds- my mind is playing crazy with this dream…)

 Kishore Kumar sings in “Naukri”

...I'd build a big tall house with rooms by the dozen 

 Right in the middle of the town 

 A fine tin roof with real wooden floors below 

 There would be one long staircase just going up And one even longer coming down, 

 And one more leading nowhere, just for show...

Tevye, the milkman, sings “If I were a rich man” in “The Fiddler on the Roof”

It starts with a dream... let yourself go

In spite of the competitive pulls at the wallet, it remains the ultimate in the realization of dreams. Simply put, it is the purchase of your very own home. There is no better way-than  buying  a house- to affirm to yourself and to society at large that you have “settled”. Not having a home to call your own can have an “unsettling” impact on your image.

We  want more.. and more.Nothing is too much or too good for us...

Thanks to rising affluence, Pune has enjoyed an almost uninterrupted property boom for over a decade.  Here is a market in which seller and buyer are more or less evenly matched. No wonder, then, that most of public advertising space in the city and its outskirts are taken up by the builder-oops, sorry, that should be  property developer- fraternity.

70 amenities ... what could they be? Start your count with walls, doors

windows, electricity, running water, swimming pool, garden, clubhouse,

 gym,... continue till they add up to 70..!

It is impossible to ignore the hoardings that promise to fulfill your dream of living in urban utopia. Unlike the modest romanticism  of Kishore Kumar and Tevye, our dreams are more ambitious and unfettered. Nothing is too much or too good for us.

The aggressive creativity that builders apply- and push the envelope- in the use of permissible living space now extends to their marketing methods. It starts with the names given to housing projects.

Gone are the days when our life’s goals are realized in an “Aashiyana”, a “Shanti Kutir”, or a “Sai Dham”. Today we will settle for nothing less than an abode in Whistling Woods (never mind the treeless landscape), a Balmoral (just off a dusty highway) or an Aircastle (on terra firma). The options and promises are virtually unlimited. We are global citizens, we think global and our aspirations are global. Everything about us must have the global look and feel.

The search for the perfect dwelling... your private heaven on this earth... between 9pm and 8am,

The options are unlimited

The promises of a paradise on earth were simply too good to ignore. I started taking these pictures to relieve the tedium of a long   commute. I thought I would be done in a about a week. But more and more hoardings came up and the earlier ones made way for new projects. For about a month, office and home became a second priority. It was fun while it lasted.

Soon, a reality check... money does matter

Sleep on little one while mummy and daddy slog to pay

off the mortgage

A Season for Colours

 There’s no electricity and our taps are dry. How are we going to last the season without water?

The air-conditioner does not work when we want it to.

Mom, I don’t care if we are out of salt. Its 3pm and I am not going out in the heat.

Mom, can I go out to play?

In this heat? You must be mad.

Couldn’t sleep a wink last night, it was hot and there was no electricity

Summer is the season for angst. Any situation that can be even remotely connected to the heat qualifies for a complaint or an excuse for inactivity.

But summer is also the season for colours. 

Colours that brighten

Colors that soothe

Colors that enliven

      Gulmohurs dominate the summer landscape. It is impossible to miss
      this huge treaa near Dehu Road on National Highway-4

The flowering trees are at their brightest best. So, stop that whining and feast you’re your eyes on a palette that is full with very color that you can think of-red, orange, purple, pink, yellow, and more. You don’t have to travel far, too; they are right there in your neighbourhood.

Summer Colors: Gulmohurs, Bougainvillae, Acacia, Jacaranda and more...

 I love the festival of colours and , these days, it takes a lot more than the heat

to keep me indoors!

Enjoy the colours while you can. In about six weeks the the first showers of the monsoon will wash that palette.  Then, green will dominate the landscape, but that is another season and another story

Beauty in Starkness. Monotony and preoccupation with our daily routine
blinds us to some compelling sights. If only we could stop and stare more
often...

Pani Puri, Anyone?

It began with an emergency meeting of the AIAPPMV- All India Association of Pani Puri Manufacturers and Vendors. (Just for the record, the Association is an affiliate member of United India Federation of Street Food Producers and Vendors, UIFSFPV). A longstanding member was assaulted by customers for using  his utensils of trade for purposes not indicated by the manufacturer of the said utensil. (Plainly put, he had emptied his bladder into the vessel). To add insult to injury, his raw material was destroyed. To add more insult, the law took an unsympathetic view of the matter and fined the said vendor for endangering public health.

The President of the Association started the meeting with a condemnation of the unprovoked attack on a senior member and called for a nationwide strike. The proposal did not find much support as –in the words of one of those present-it was a purely local matter. Serves the chap right, said another. Most of those present, however, were worried about their  losses and they were too scared to go out to work. They wanted the AIAPPMV to do something about it.

A worker with a NGO, which was a support group for the Association, then stood up. He explained how the world had changed and why it is important to be clean and maintain hygiene. He also gave examples of how a clean and pleasant environment actually helped businesses to grow and flourish.

New ideas have their share of opponents and skeptics and this was no different

“We have worked like this for several decades, why change now?” was the immediate reaction.

“It won’t work in our case,” was the considered opinion of the wise one

“Can’t afford this, we are barely able to make ends meet.” This came from the practical one.

“Things are bad enough as it is; trying out something new is not going to make it worse.” Here was a grudging acceptance, at last. The NGO worker had had his way. All that remained was to discuss the plan and put it in action.

Soon, there was a noticeable change in the way business was conducted. The foodstuff was stored in shining stainless steel vessels, it was handled with disposable plastic gloves and the pani was made using packaged drinking water. Cleaner than clean was the driving motto.

The vendors also wore neat uniforms which reflected the colour of their servings- greenish brown trousers (for the pani) and beige shirts (for the puri). They wore chef caps on their heads.

The AIAPPMV and the NGO also installed a large potted plant near every pani puri stall.

What a pleasant ambience, exclaimed a foreign tourist as she reached  for her camera.

One could hide behind it, commented another customer.

Yes sahib, replied the pani puri seller humbly, the plant is of great help in many ways.

The changes also attracted media’s attention. The president of the AIAPPMV was much sought after for interviews.  Soon after, he was invited to lecture Management Students on “Street Level Changes”.

The whispers began a couple of months later. No one paid any attention at first. The whispers gave way to low mutters and then to loud rumblings. Reality had to be faced. The pani puri business had not improved. In fact-as one pani puri vendor put it- it was as bad as it could be.

The same vendor quoted an old customer, “Your pani puri just doesn’t taste right these days”.

Corrupt? Who, us?

People’s power asserted itself peacefully and forcefully-as would be expected in a vibrant and functioning democracy- when the Government agreed to form a committee to draft the Jan Lokpal Bill.

I remained in ignorant bliss as history was being made. After the cricket world cup, I did not consider any event as worthy of being reported. So I had stopped reading the newspaper and did not pay my cable television subscription. Now, with the impending Jan Lokpal Bill, I told myself to take my obligations as a responsible citizen  very seriously.   I must make amends quickly.

First, I will get myself and a few friends photographed with the national flag. Then I will superimpose our picture on a newspaper photo of the scene of the historic fast. Many years hence, I must not be found wanting when my grandchildren ask me about “the second struggle of independence”. I must have a good story to tell. But, on second thoughts, that is still too far into the future.Life is so short and uncertain. Instead, I will put the photo on my Facebook page.

I am also concerned over reports of disagreements amongst the committee members. In my opinion-which is just one out a 1.21 billion- they are not focused on the basics. As I also have the right to be heard, I have decided to write to the committee with a few suggestions.

In my view the committee must address two fundamental points:

DEFINE CORRUPTION:   The effectiveness of the Lokpal Bill depends on the clarity that it brings to the meaning of the word corruption. Because of the far reaching effects of the  Bill, corruption must be defined and explained in all our constitutional languages so that it is understood by all Indians in the manner it is intended. If necessary, sub- committees must be formed to select regional language experts. This is serious work and its importance must not be underestimated. We cannot afford to have lawyers holding up cases while courts deliberate on the interpretation of the word. India has waited for forty years and a few decades more will not matter.

HEAR THE VOICE OF THE COMMON MAN. The common man supports the Bill, but is also worried that the rhythm and flow of his daily routine may be disturbed. The Committee must take these concerns into consideration. Let me explain.

Managing situations are an integral component of our everyday lives. We manage the policeman when we break a traffic rule. We manage the lineman when he arrives in our premises to cut the electricity because we have not paid the bill. A friend of mine also manages the VAT department whenever he misses the pay-by date. (The VAT officer will also vouch for my friend’s excellent hospitality). These are just a few examples that came immediately to my mind.

The committee must understand that we are honest, hardworking citizens. Most of us who cannot afford Chartered Accountants even pay our income tax on time. It is just that we do not want to bring any inconvenience and trouble upon ourselves.

So, would the committee kindly see to it that the Bill does not apply to us common folk? I am sure that there will be enough scams, frauds and Swiss Bank accounts to keep the courts busy

Opium for the Masses

"Then ye returned to your trinkets; then ye contented your souls
With the flannelled fools at the wicket…..” Rudyard Kipling

The Minister was working very hard. It was not enough that India won the World Cup. True, during the month or so that the tournament held public attention, he did not have to be reminded daily about failed election promises and face awkward questions in Parliament. The challenge now was to keep the nation’s attention fixed on cricket. The Prime Minister wanted ideas. The Minister had responded with a proposal for a Ministry of Cricket The Prime Minister was pleased but also wanted the idea to be followed with quick administrative action. But that was not all.

A delegation of the sponsors had met him with a list of their demands. They were not satisfied that only 67.6 million had watched the finals. They had put in a lot of money and wanted more. India has a population of 1.21 billion and it was reasonable to expect that at least 500 million should watch the game. With so many people hooked to the television screens, commercials would reach a huge audience, which in turn could lead to a surge in purchases. Naturally, this would result in manufacturing growth, increased employment and more purchasing power.

The delegation also cautioned that all this will not be possible unless the game is supported by the government and built into an Institution. The Minister was impressed and the delegation left with a promise to build a cricket stadium in his village.

The Minister got down to work immediately. He was a man of destiny and this was his chance to leave his mark. His vision and plans soon took shape:

• Cricket will drive –was that a pun?- the economy
• There will be a Ministry of Cricket and, of course, the Minister would be honored to head it.
• The Ministry would be run by the finest bureaucrats of the country so that cricketers can play cricket and ex-cricketers can commentate on matches.
• There will be wide screen television sets in every office so that dedicated, hardworking employees do not miss a game
• April 2 would be celebrated as World Cup day and declared a national holiday.The Department of Personnel will also be persuaded to add another category of leave. In addition to Earned Leave, Casual leave and Sick Leave, every employee would be entitled to seven days of Cricket Leave to watch at least one Test Match or a few one day or T20 games.
• There will be an allowance so that employees may be able to travel to the match venues. An employee would be allowed to accumulate both leave and allowance for four years-enough to watch a full world cup
• Exam schedules will be approved by the Ministry so that that they do not clash with match days. Students must be spared the stress of having to miss games because of exams
• A special Act of Parliament was envisaged which will exempt cricketers from paying income tax (Farmers don’t pay tax, do they?). The Minister was also hopeful that gifts of cars, yachts, airplanes and such like would also not be taxed.
• The Ministry will also look after the interests of cricketers who have sacrificed the best part of their lives. A special purpose vehicle will be formed to acquire land for houses and cricket academies.

There were more proposals. Indeed, the Minister’s head was brimming over with ideas. This was going to be definitive phase in Indian cricket and he wanted be known as the “game changer”.

"…eleven flannelled fools chasing a red ball, with eleven thousand fools cheering them" George Bernard Shaw

The Minister smiled as he recalled Kipling and Shaw. He had studied in England, was fashionably contemptuous of the British but, cricket- he just loved the game. In his mind, he strapped his pads and twirled his bat. He then squared his shoulders and strode to the Prime Minister's office.