Social Story – The Good, The bad and The exceptions
Photo credit: arvydas from morguefile.com
Once upon a time when our country was sleeping after an exhausting battle against corruption in India taken under the leadership of our present day bapu Anna Hazare, except a KiranBedi, an ArvindKejriwal and few others who were blowing whistles intermittently and shouting, “JaagteRaho”, I was having a sleepless night. Two days left to leave the city and the first thing on my to-do-list was “GET YOUR POLICE VERIFICATION DONE FOR THE PASSPORT”.
For the last five years, my parents have been nagging me to get my passport made. Finally, when my father was fed up of my complacency, he decided to help me out with this. Next day we were there at the passport office and it was a loooong queue I must say. Usually all kinds of sarkaari offices and sarkaari works put me off to sleep but this place was way too bright, tidy and organized thanks to Tata Consultancy Services which has taken up the project to complete the process of issuing passport sans the police verification step.
Within the next half or quarter of hour I was being assisted by an employee who was explaining me the procedure of filling the form online, and getting the interview date fixed within next two days in case of TATKAL service. “Ma’am, the police verification will be done after the passport is issued.”- The staff was cooperative and truly believed in customer service. I was impressed and regretful too why I did not apply for it earlier. My dad too gave me an “I told you so” look.
The next seven days glided like butter on a pan and one fine day I received the small blue booklet with the lion capital embossed on it in golden. I was overwhelmed and the post man like a big sadist reminded me of the police verification process which was due in the next couple of days. “Don’t worry, they will call you up”- he said and vanished.
We waited for another two days but nothing happened. On the third day, at around 8 pm, my mother received a call from the nearest police station that it has been a day that my passport was there for verification so we should go there as soon as possible. My dad was panicked and asked me to get ready in the next five minutes. We also took our neighbor who was the brother of a retired High court judge. He’s kind of important in this story about which I will tell later.
We reached the police station in another 15 minutes but unfortunately the inspector was not there but we were asked to be present there the next morning with the two people who we referred as witnesses. The problem lied there. One of them- the retired judge had to visit another city due to some urgent court related work and the other one- a doctor had went to his village due to the untimely demise of his uncle. The police here were not ready to cooperate at all- “This is the problem with this country, you people want us to do everything on time and when we do, you do not like that either.”
We thought we would visit the police station the next morning and would try to explain the situation to the inspector. Applying for a passport again was out of question. Next morning we were again there. An old but well built cheerful man was sitting on a creaky wooden chair half eaten by termites. So were the other chairs and tables. The entire police station was limited to two rooms- one small and the other one smaller that supported some rusted tin sheets. It was June and even mornings were hot. None of the windows and doors had any curtain and the entire police station was scorching under the bright sun. The inspector welcomed us, we returned the greetings with equal amour and narrated him the whole story.
He grew serious and expressed his inability to cooperate. He said, “I have to return the passport to the passport office within next 4 days otherwise I will be held responsible for the delay.”
We tried every possible extent to cajole him but he was not in a mood to give in. Fed up of the conversation, my neighbor stood up and said, “I need some fresh air so I would go outside and return in a while.” And pointing to me, he said, “Beta, you also join me.” I wanted my dad to accompany us since the inspector was not ready to give us any kind of cooperation but he stayed back.
Uncle was in a mood of self praise. He said, “I did the right thing at the right time. Most probably the inspector was going to ask for a bribe, the fees as they call it. But they would not have asked before me as I am the brother of a retired justice.”
I said, “But it is wrong, the country is fighting against corruption and what we are doing here is absolutely unpardonable by the war against corruption.”
Uncle said accusingly, “Now this is your need, they can very well stick to the norms and send your passport back, they just want money for the extra service they are providing.”
“I can’t care any less, if this is the case, I don’t want a passport.”, I retorted.
I went inside and found that it was a pleasant weather there. The inspector was smiling incessantly and had ordered for tea and snacks too. I sternly looked at my dad who smiled sheepishly.
“Bitiya, have some tea.”
“No thanks, I don’t like tea.”
“Some snacks.”
“No I am fine. Thank you.”
My dad scolded me with his non verbal gestures for behaving rudely with a person of so much importance. In order to cover up, he asked him about his background. The old man became nostalgic and started with his story- how his family was very poor about 40 years back when he was not in police, how the zamindaar class harassed them for their small piece of land and in order to fight the autocratic feudal class he had to join police force at an age of 20 years. He also narrated some of his cases where he showed his mettle and dedication towards his work. He also expressed his remorse against division based on caste and religion, illiteracy, suppression of women and other social errors. He also mentioned of his helplessness in front of the vote bank politics of the government which often leads to violation of law and order in the state. I sat there wondering how a corrupt man can speak of social welfare and upliftment when he himself is contributing to the degradation of society.
My passport verification document was lying at his home so he requested us to accompany him to his house which he built recently. On his way he listed the number of properties he owned and also narrated how joining police force changed the lives of his family and other oppressed people and placed a check on the oppressors, and how he have encouraged his daughters and sons to get educated and do what they like. I had started somewhat liking this corrupt noble man. As we entered a small narrow lane, a rotting stink made me almost throw up. I wrapped my face with stole and was watched my steps so that I don’t step on cow dung. It was a slum area with people belonging to the class of kabbadiwalas.
Everyone stood up and greeted the inspector. The inspector was quite benevolent in his gestures which I assumed must be attributed to our presence. We passed by a small shop of aluminum utensils, the old shopkeeper came running to the policeman. The inspector patted his back and asked about his son’s health. The old man was overwhelmed and thanked him for the medicines that he gave. Another old man came to pay respects.
“How are you and your family, Babudeen?”, the inspector asked.
“Everyone is fine. As you have instructed, I send my grandchildren to school daily, they are loving it and are happier. Although the work is affected but it’s ok.”, the old man said.
So here is a man who is corrupt but talks of the pride of the duty, social upliftment and also helps poor. What kind of mismatch is this? Aren’t corrupt people bad who we want to reveal in front of people and punish? Are we corrupt to worship these corrupt people and also accolade them with more bribes just to save us few efforts and time or for illicit favors?Perhaps there are more things to understand. Perhaps corruption has become a part of our life similar to the system.
As this story unveiled before me what forced the man to join the police and what encouraged him to be corrupt was the prevalent system. When a young man sets his foot on the platform of livelihood, his sole aim happens to be survival before he can write his own principles and morals. When we give him a corrupt system, he too has to take wrong measures to survive because that is the way it has always been and of course not everyone is a change leader to become an Anna. Not that I am supporting corruption or preparing my defense against bribing the inspector but this is perhaps an answer to questions like “how is passing of a lokpal bill going to ensure the eradication of corruption which has become an integral part of our being?”
Sitting on a charpoy, we were having some fruits. The new building had nothing except a charpoy, a few pairs of uniforms and other clothes hanging, few medicines and a bottle of horlics.
“I don’t need to spend a lavish life, I always have things that I really need. I have utilized all my money in building houses and buying land so that my future generation does not have to bear the brunt of being poor and oppressed. I have also contributed a large sum to building a school in my village so that more children can be educated and do well in life.”
This time I was again staring at him but this time in amazement and respect.
–END–
