Budget, bakwaas and a wish list

 

Another budget has just been announced. The budget speech was one hour and 25 minutes long. This was the one thing I liked. The only thing. It’s still not ideal. What’s the point of these long speeches? Longest budget speech ever in the Indian Parliament has been over 2 hours and 42 minutes, by Nirmala Sitharaman herself, in 2020. In fact, some of the Godi media anchors were sounding a little apologetic that she didn’t catch up with or exceed her own record in terms of the length of the speech. 

Does anyone really listen to it? No. Is there any meaningful discussion to be had, based on the long, tedious ramble? Again, no. The treasury benches dutifully thump the desks from time to time. Opposition dutifully cries, “Shame, shame.” Then the finance minister does the rounds of TV studios saying what a great budget she’s produced and how it’ll solve every single problem in India. The opposition guys do the rounds decrying how it is anti-poor, anti-this state or this region, and so on. 

Here’s my wish list for making things a little more meaningful. 

The budget speech should start sharp at 11 AM. Not because Parliamentarians shouldn’t start work at 9.30 like the rest of Delhi but because there’s a lot of briefing and mock question-answer, etc. that need to be gone through by the ministers. The officials also need to be prepared. Having spent a lot of time in the official gallery in the Parliament, I know how hectic these preparations can be. 

After laying the budget speech and the details on the floor of the house, the Finance Minister should make the budget speech for exactly half an hour and not a second more. If she exceeds the time, the microphones should be switched off. 

This half an hour should be divided into three broad parts of 10 minutes each. The first 10 minutes should be devoted to a maximum of 10 schemes announced in the previous budget and the achievements against that. The second 10 minutes should detail at least five and not more than 10 thrust areas for the new budgetary year. The last 10 minutes should give the new taxes introduced and old taxes scrapped and a broad overview of how each rupee would be earned and how it’d be spent. Also, what would be likely to be cheaper and what would be costlier. No shero shayari, no grandstanding – those could come on subsequent days. 

After this, rather than having any knee-jerk reactions to the budget, the Parliament should adjourn till 3 PM so that the members and their minders can study the budget proposals. There should be meaningful discussion thereafter only till 5 PM, with at least five questions allotted to the LoP or the leader of the largest party. 

That’s it for budget day. All the major discussion should take place on subsequent dates. 

The stock market should be closed on budget day to avoid rigging/ spot-fixing, influencing the sentiments, etc.. 

The budget speech should serve merely as an introduction to the budget statement. Frankly speaking, even if the FM takes three hours over it, she can’t do more. The Devil and the God lie in the details. As soon as the speech starts, the entire budget statement and the tables should be made available on the Finance Ministry website – the tables should be in both PDF and machine-readable form so that the data can be analysed quickly. [There can be a disclaimer that if there’s a conflict between the PDF and the machine-readable format, the former would prevail.] 

The idea of the budgets should be make the budget progressively irrelevant. 

One last thing – all that drama about halwa making and feeding the FM dahi-chini, etc. should stop. If we want to be a mature nation, we should behave like one. According the budget less importance and symbolism would truly be getting away from the colonial yoke, not banning bandhgalas.

Thank you, Gita

 

This year, the annual World Economic Forum at Davos was running to script for India. Several ministers and Chief Ministers from India were strutting around in colonial hangover bandhgalas and suit-ties including one minister who has banned them; their wives were frolicking around in snow and getting massive coverage by godi media back home; some of the dignitaries had ostensibly gone all the way there to sign MoUs with business leaders from India, that too from their own state; and so on. Until suddenly, out of the blue, in a panel discussion, a reputed Indian-American Harvard professor and former Deputy Managing Director of IMF proclaimed that pollution was a far bigger economic problem for India than any tariffs. This got the hackles up for the "digital swarm." 

“Gita Gopinath is working to halt India’s rise and shaming it at WEF, as if in the cause of Pollution. A hard-working country of your own origins, with no shame." "Gita Gopinath is WEF shill. They want to impose arbitrary emission norms on developing economy like India. Relating tariffs to civic issue like air pollution is most dishonest trick." "She’s a Pakistani agent disguised as the IMF Chief." 

Just a few comments from the swarmy army. I’m not quoting the filthy personal ones here. 

I fail to understand how Gita’s was a statement against India. On the contrary, India (and the world) should be grateful to her for highlighting something which has a huge adverse impact and which has stayed quite under the radar for a while. If anything, it was cocking a snook at Trump who is obsessed with tariffs which are actually a lesser problem for India. 

Gita was probably referring only to air pollution. However, all the three types of pollution, air, water and noise are a serious problem for India and its economic growth. 

Air pollution causes 1.7 million deaths in India annually, i.e., 18 % of total deaths and 4,658 deaths per day. Gita mentioned these figures, quoting a World Bank study. The annual cost to the economy is USD 150 billion, i.e., 9.5 % of GDP, due to pollution related disease and premature death. The cost to Indian businesses is estimated at USD 95 billion. Due to smog, especially in the north, India loses substantial tourism. Air pollution is associated with heart disease, stroke, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD), diabetes and lung cancer. Air pollution reduces crop yield by hindering photosynthesis. It also contributes to corrosion and degradation of infrastructure and machinery. 

Water pollution is linked to 38 million cases of water-borne diseases annually in India, killing 1.5 million children. The diseases include Typhoid, Cholera and Hepatitis. In Delhi, water pollution reduces life expectancy by up to 12 years. Water pollution leads to eutrophication, a process where excessive nutrients, particularly nitrogen and phosphorus, promote the overgrowth of algae in water bodies. This algal bloom depletes oxygen levels, leading to the untimely death of fish and the creation of "dead zones" where aquatic life cannot survive. The cost of water pollution in India exceeds USD 80 billion annually. In the affected areas, agricultural revenue gets reduced by around 9 % and crop yields by around 16 %. The fisheries industry loses USD 2.2 billion annually. Water pollution costs India 3 % of its GDP annually. 

Noise pollution is an almost invisible hazard/ killer which also has far-reaching consequences for health, productivity and economy. Long-term exposure to high noise which most urban population in India is subjected to leads to permanent hearing loss (currently at 6 % of the population) – people between 12-35 years are particularly vulnerable. It also leads to cardiovascular diseases, mental health issues and sleep disruption with attendant fatigue and reduced productivity. A 5-decibel increase in noise is associated with a 34 % increase in the illnesses. In India, transportation noise alone costs the GDP a 2 % reduction. 

An important aspect of the cost of pollution is its asymmetric impact – while the rich reap the benefits of things like air conditioners, climate, water and noise control mechanisms at their disposal and the industrial growth, the poor bear the brunt of it in reduced livelihood and habitat, lack of paid sick leave or healthcare privilege and exposure to unconscionable levels of pollution. As such, costs of pollution are compared to a “regressive tax.” 

Look at the cost in terms of investment inflows. Many big investors are very conscious of social responsibilities and do not like to invest in India. India has only 10 ESG (Environmental, Social, Governance) funds compared to U.S. or U.K. which have over 500 such funds each. Even a small country like Taiwan has more ESG funds. Plus, as Gita pointed out, international investors don’t like to live or commit manpower in a place like India. This statement seems to have riled the "digital swarm" no end. But, look at the reality. World no. 2 badminton player, Anders Antonsen refused to participate in India Open championship (held on January 13-18, 2026) due to “extreme pollution” in Delhi and opted to pay the fine instead. He was complaining at AQI of 348 while Delhi regularly breaches the 1,000 AQI mark. That is the real shame. 

What we should do is applaud Gita Gopinath for pointing out that pollution is not merely an activist issue; it’s an economic issue. It’s also a health issue. It’s actually an existential issue. We should stop ourselves and our own children from being exposed to it. By demanding - and forcing - strict accountability from the government. 

Thank you, Gita.

A Monkey baat, an Affi-dammit and a Choker in the pack

 

It’s very, very difficult to get into the civil services in India. The exams and procedures are so excruciatingly tough that after making it, we relax for about 30-35 years just to recover and then it’s time to collect the pension and gratuity. The syllabus is really vast and practically unlimited. It requires rigorous study of many subjects for at least a year. With just 200-300 making it to the coveted services like IAS, IPS, IFS, etc. out of about 15 lakh candidates, anyone who makes it has to be pretty well educated through the process. What happens to these guys when they join politics? Do they regress or attain some second childhood of illiteracy? 

First, the Monkey baat. 

Dr. Satya Pal Singh is a Post-Graduate in Chemistry, has an M. Phil. in Chemistry from Delhi University and also holds a PhD from Nagpur University. He joined IPS in 1980 and during the Police career also obtained an MBA from Australia and an MA in Public Administration. He rose to become the Police Commissioner of Mumbai, as prestigious a post as they come. He took voluntary retirement from the Police service, won a Parliamentary seat and became a Minister. It is reported that before joining the Police, he wanted to become a scientist. Thus spake he on 19.1.2018 when he was Minister of State for Human Resource Development (Higher Education): 

“Darwin’s theory is scientifically wrong. It needs to change in the school and college curriculum. Since man is seen on Earth, he has always been a man. Nobody, including our ancestors, in written or oral, said they ever saw an ape turning into a human being.” 

When he was severely criticised, he doubled down, saying he was speaking “as a man of science.” When he went on to plan an international conference where scientists could come and debate his great wisdom, finally it was too much and his Cabinet Minister reprimanded him by publicly stating, “I have asked him to refrain from making such comments. We are not going to fund any event or don’t have any plan for a national seminar to prove Darwin wrong. It is the domain of scientists and we should let them free to continue their efforts for progress of the country.” 

Another day, another ex-civil servant – Ms Aparajita Sarangi, from the IAS. She was in the service for 24 long years and was obviously conversant with laws, procedures, proofs, legal requirements and natural justice. Did she forget all that when she joined politics? 

She was part of the “Ethics Committee” which found Mahua Moitra guilty of unethical conduct. I saw the panel discussion on TV where she was asked where was the proof. She kept hemming and hawing and when persistently asked, came out with “There was an affidavit.” The logic is crazy, (affi)dammit! Now if I sign an affidavit tomorrow saying Ms Sarangi has committed murder, would she be hanged? No Sir, I shall be cross-examined, asked to show proof beyond any reasonable doubt, and so on. Well, she was asked whether the committee examined the person who had made the affidavit, that too not in a court of law but before a High Commissioner abroad. She kept evading the question and kept on repeating, “Well … there WAS an affidavit …" 

The latest is a (choker) pearl from Mr. Ashwini Vaishnaw, the honourable Railways Minister, ex-IAS. He has banned bandhgala as a formal dress in the railways, saying: 

“We have to get rid of all colonial mindset. We need to find each of them and remove them, whether it’s in our working style or dressing style. Today I am making the first announcement. Humare jo bandgale ka kala suit angrezon ne chalu kiya tha, aaj se yeh railway mein formal dress nehin rahegi.” 

There are a few questions around that extraordinary statement. 

I can’t find a single reference of any of the “angrezon” either wearing a bandhgala or mandating one. On the other hand, I find well documented history and evolution of bandhgala from the erstwhile “royal” families of Rajasthan, to the Mughal court before the British. Raghavendra Rathore, Indian menswear designer has called the garment “India’s most refined expression of royal tailoring.” He said, “I think it’s unfair to say this jacket is not part of our own history or it’s the costume of another culture. It has developed and evolved over four centuries, going back to the Mughal courts and the Rajasthan princely states. This jacket was here before the British arrived in Calcutta and it’s gone through a very fluid evolution since then.” Mr. Vaishnaw is literally and figuratively ripping apart the fabric of our own society. 

Secondly, the railways itself is a colonial legacy. Should we then go back to bullock carts and Mr. Vaishnaw be divested of that portfolio quickly? There have been claims by an erstwhile Chief Minister that India already had internet, satellite communication, etc. during the Mahabaharat days so his other jobs of IT, etc. are safe for the time being. 

Our Parliament system itself has a lot of borrowings from the Westminster system. Should the Parliament be closed down then? It may not be a bad idea, given the way it functions now, almost as a redundancy. 

IMHO, there’s a false labelling of quintessentially Indian things as alien, mythology as science and everyday obscurantism as gospel truth. Sure, certain colonial-era relics need to be discarded. E.g., the haughty mindset of the Ministers and MPs, an imperious executive completely disconnected from the grassroots, appalling unaccountability of the high and mighty, and so on. Pseudoscience is regressive. Silly schoolboy excuses of affidavits won’t do. And, banning bandhgalas has zero basis and even less meaning.

 

Tariff pe tariff pe tariff

 

I don’t think any Indian Prime Minister has ever been so thoroughly and persistently humiliated by an American President ever. For some reason, even by Trump’s own abysmal standards, his constant insults of our Prime Minister have reached a new low. 

In his first term itself, while Modi was going around showcasing how he has taken India to new diplomatic heights, Trump punctured the balloon with, “The Indian leader is constantly telling me he built a library in Afghanistan. Library! That's, like, five hours of what we spend!”  This was on 6.1.2019. It was basically mocking India’s aid to Afghanistan compared to the billions the U.S. had spent. 

There’ve been quiet, surreptitious ways of wooing American Presidents. With Biden, it came to light accidentally when their State Department had to publish the gifts received by their President and the First Lady. Turned out that Mrs. Biden had received the most expensive gift from Mr. Modi, a 7.5 carat diamond valued at USD 20,000. The $ 20,000 diamond was apparently “retained for official use in the White House East Wing” while the other gifts to the President and the First Lady were sent to the archives. What the “official use” was, was never specified. 

With Trump, Modi had tried a very blatant breaking of protocol by that “Ab ki baar, Trump sarkar.” But the quiet bit was by pampering his ego to have millions of people throng to just see and hear him in Ahmedabad. However, with Trump, nothing remains quiet. For example, Trump on 13.2.2020: 

“He (Modi) said we will have millions and millions of people. My only problem is that last night we probably had 40 or 50,000 people… I’m not going to feel so good… There will be five to seven million people just from the airport to the new stadium (in Ahmedabad). 

As the world was scrambling for a remedy for COVID-19, an anti-malarial drug, Hydroxychloroquine came up as a possible candidate. Countries started stockpiling the drug and on April 4, 2020, India, dubbed the pharmacy of the world, banned its exports so as to secure its own supplies. To which Trump responded in his typical crude manner, “If he (Modi) doesn’t allow it to come out, that would be okay, but of course, there may be retaliation. Why wouldn’t there be?” And India lifted the ban post-haste for the U.S.. 

While Modi thought he had kept things under wraps during Operation Sindoor, especially the parts which didn’t cast things in a favourable light, suddenly Trump announced at 1700 hrs on 10.5.2026 on his Truth Social platform that there was a ceasefire through U.S. mediation and took the credit. No amount of afterthought whitewashing by India could wipe off that claim, especially since Trump has repeated it every single time he has got an opportunity. 

Thereafter, it has been almost a daily dose of sniping. Following are some examples: 

“I don’t want to ruin the political career of Mr Modi but he definitely "loves" me.” – 16.10.2025 

"They wanted to make me happy, basically. Modi is a very good man; he is a good guy. He knew I was not happy, and it was important to make me happy," – 6.1.2026 

“Modi came to see me. Sir. May I see you, please? I said, Yes." – 7.1.2026 

I think, the Mandarins at our foreign ministry must be holding their breath every time Trump gets a chance to interact with the media. 

During my first year post-MBA, in the corporate sector in Bombay, I used to stay in the YMCA hostel along with many others in their early corporate ladders. Whenever we used to have any ailment, we used to go to a doctor nearby and after his treatment, used to get cured. Later, we found out that regardless of the ailment, whether it was a fever or stomach ache or diarrhoea or anything, he used to give us one single injection, the same injection, every time. Still, we used to get cured, possibly because the doctor had a beautiful, very comforting bedside manner. 

Like that doctor, Trump seems to have one single solution for most problems in the world, i.e., tariffs. Unfortunately, his manners are extremely crude, nothing like comforting. He has piled on tariff after tariff upon India and is threatening even more tariffs for real and imaginary grievances. He is behaving like a peeved, petulant child with regard to India. Apart from any other thing, it’s probably because India won’t – actually can’t – endorse him for that Nobel prize because that’d be admitting his mediation during Operation Sindoor. 

But, why exactly is India so afraid and quaking over these tariffs? 

India’s exports are around 20 % of its GDP. Out of that, only about 18 % go to the United States. With such a huge economy, a mere 3-4 % can just be shrugged off. Plus, exports on the surface are one thing; actual exports are another. When there’s serious economic advantage to be had, exports and imports do find their way through like water seeping in, either indirectly or illegally. Trump is taking a mercantile approach to trade. The world and economics have moved on. Either he or his advisors haven’t heard of the theory of comparative advantage. It’s just not possible for all countries to have positive balance of trade because net exports globally have to be zero. 

Looks like, not India but Mr. Modi is panicking. And, not necessarily because of the tariffs. This panic, as with everything Mr. Modi, is humongously amplified by the ecosystem. That fear could be because of the leverage from a pending summons. The real negotiation seems to be over that alleged bribery scandal. 

Is there a way out? Yes. Simply acknowledge that a hug is not a solution to everything, just as a tariff isn't. And, drop Adani!

The hundredth

 

I started the blog journey very, very hesitantly. In fact, I didn’t even share my first few blogs with anyone for fear of negative feedback and far worse, complete indifference. When I tentatively shared my first blog, I was overwhelmed by the response. I also found I had a few things to say and it has now gone on to this, the hundredth blog post in a span of three and a half years (the first blog was on April 23, 2022). 

It's a time for reflection. I checked with Grok and Gemini. 

Grok: 

Overall, the blog is quite good if you enjoy insider perspectives on Indian socio-political issues delivered with humor and critique. It's refreshing and grounded, especially coming from someone with Dash's credentials and experience. However, it's not a mainstream or highly influential blog—more of a thoughtful, contrarian voice for those interested in Indian public affairs, policing, or satirical takes on news. If that aligns with your interests, it's worth checking out! 

Gemini: 

The blog "Whatever It Is, I'm Against It!" by Bibhuti Dash is generally regarded as engaging, entertaining, and insightful, particularly for its unique perspective on real-life experiences in the Indian Police Service (IPS). The blog posts were popular enough to be compiled into a book titled Police in Blunderland.  

Reviews and comments highlight several positive aspects: 

·       Compelling Content: The blog is noted for its interesting plots and characters, drawing from Dash's decades of experience as a police officer. One particularly popular series within the blog covered the sensational Purulia Arms drop case, a topic where Dash had direct involvement in solving the incident. 

·       Engaging Style: Readers appreciate the author's pithy, "tongue in cheek" writing style, which effectively blends the serious nature of police work with humor and observations on the absurdities of daily life. 

·       Human Element: The blog is praised for presenting the human side of policing in India, challenging the perception that the profession is entirely opaque, stern, and brutal. The articles offer the perspectives of an observer, even when narrated in the first person, adding a refreshing dimension to the stories. 

·       Thought-Provoking: The stories are described as thought-provoking, touching on various human emotions and themes like karma, greed, sadness, and anger.  

Overall, the blog is considered a worthwhile read, especially for those interested in true crime, police procedural stories, or simply well-written, real-life anecdotes with a unique voice.  

Obviously Grok and AI are not necessarily accurate but the above made my heart feel good. 

The following have been the top 5 posts by page views: 

1.     “It’s raining guns and bullets:"  https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2022/07/its-raining-guns-and-bullets.html

2.     Proud to be a Hindu: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2022/05/proud-to-be-hindu.html 

3.     The Talwar amendment: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2024/03/the-talwar-amendment.html 

4.     Be (very) careful what you wish for: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2022/08/be-very-careful-what-you-wish-for.html 

5.     HEWK: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2022/10/hewk.html 

My personal favourite 5: 

1.   What the cop and the bribe did next: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2022/06/what-cop-and-bribe-did-next.html 

2.     Being Delulu: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2025/05/being-delulu.html 

3.     I’m always there: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2022/06/im-always-there.html 

4.     Why I quit my IIM WhatsApp group: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2024/12/why-i-quit-my-iim-whatsapp-group.html 

5.     Gratefully yours, gracefully yours: https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2023/02/gratefully-yours-gracefully-yours.html 

The 100^th has also led me to think as to why I write. 

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to write. Never had the confidence to put things into words though. While interacting with people, I’m severely tongue-tied, sometimes coming across as arrogant, sometimes as depressing and so on. So, writing was an outlet. In school and in college, this took the form of writing long letters to friends and relatives. 

Later, in undergrad college, I churned out despicable stuff and was suitably (internally) chastened when I saw the great output of batchmates in the college rag. It was IIM Bangalore where the very supportive group of classmates encouraged and gave instant feedback. That was also where I met Gunds (Prof. Rajendra Nargundkar, currently Pro Vice Chancellor of a University) who was miles ahead of me in writing and humour but decided to partner with me for all the literary efforts of the batch. 

One good side effect of writing has been that I think I have managed to avoid one curse of old age. Which is, inflicting unwanted stories and repugnant wisdom on unsuspecting people who are least interested. This way, the urge to burst forth with said wisdom (or lack of it) gets fulfilled and anyone has the choice to pay heed or not, at a time of his/ her own choosing. However, writing does help me to minimise the distance between thought and language, for myself. 

As the doctor in 'Doctor Who' TV series said, “Well, you’ll remember me a little. I’ll be a story in your head. But that’s okay: we’re all stories in the end. Just make it a good one, eh?”

Oh my lonely heart!

 

To continue the saga of law enforcers of my housing complex being prime law violators of environmental laws: 

https://b-b-dash.blogspot.com/2025/12/aqi-and-lack-of-iq.html 

Well, all my entreaties for sparing my ears (and that of many in the complex) fell on “deaf” ears – pun intended. My protestations were ignored as mere errors in taste and of no consequence. Until I sent a legal notice to the Secretary of the Owners’ Association, the concerned Commissioner of Police and West Bengal Pollution Control Board (WBPCB). The next thing I knew, there was a call from the DGP urging me to “negotiate” and not to go the legal route. 

“Negotiations” meant being summoned to a Nuremberg trial with the 12 members of the Board of Managers ranged against little old me. I refrained and invited the Secretary to my house and home for a one-on-one. I suggested that the function be held inside the Club house building even though that was not fully as per the rules. However, he had come essentially to inform me that they’d go ahead as planned. My being a Cancer survivor and having developed Tinnitus after moving into this complex and my aged Mom being a dementia patient, etc. were considered of no import and were countered with the argument that New Year Eve happens only once a year. I thought, yes, Durga Puja celebrations happen for only four days a year, Diwali happens only once a year, Chhat Puja happens on only one day or for a week, Holi happens only once  a year, each person’s birthday is on one single day for himself/ herself although I’ve known a particular SP’s son having a birthday every month so that the SHOs could get at least 12 occasions to bestow their bounty and pledge fealty and so on … essentially, the “meeting” was a case of irresistible force meeting an immovable object and ended in an impasse. 

There was one more phone call.  I was asked to practically vacate myself from my own house and whether they could “very graciously” arrange for my accommodation – free of cost, presumably – at ITC hotels. Imagine the discourteousness! 

I didn’t want to go to the High Court and the Green Tribunal. These are vexing propositions at my age and very expensive too. Two of the newspapers carried the story. However, this didn’t deter the organisers the least bit. I presume, they must have managed a “special permission” from you-guessed-it, the Police, although there was no scope for that under the High Court orders. So, I sent out RTI applications for a copy of such order/s. 

I also thought about how to prove the violation in Court. Just an averment or recording of the decibel level by me would be laughed “out of Court.” I googled and found some agencies who measure pollution in air, water and noise level. I contacted several of them but drew a blank after initial promises. I was not even sure whether such measurements would carry any heft in the courts. In desperation, I checked the WBPCB website and found that they had an approved list of such certifiers. I rang each one of them. Some of them agreed but backed out, probably because of cops being involved; however, two of them agreed to arrange the measurements on the appointed date at the relevant times. Until I paid up and they landed up, I was still on knife’s edge but they finally did. 

I also explored the possibility of lodging a formal complaint with WBPCB. What I found was hilarious. There’re a phone no. and an app to do so. The phone no. takes you round and round through “press 1,” “press 2,” etc. until it says, “all our operatives are busy, kindly leave your name and phone no.” Well, I did, over three days and left my name and phone no. and was “left out” by WBPCB. I lodged a complaint twice on the app, received “token nos.” but those disappeared promptly – were they tokens of appreciation, or mere tokens? 

On the day of reckoning, I saw the DJ sets and high-pitched sound boxes being put up. The two agencies I'd engaged did turn up and set up their machines for continuous reading of the decibels. I braced myself for the entire Court ka chakkars. 

Just on the off-chance, I tried the phone no. of WBPCB again. Lo and behold, someone actually did pick up. He was as surprised as me. He told me to hold on so that he could gather a pen and paper – and his thoughts; diligently noted down my name, no., address and the complaint and assured that their team would visit within the hour. I asked him if he’d give me a token no. or a registration no. and he said mine was the first and only complaint so far on the date so 1/(date) was the token no.. So much for “all our operatives are busy.” 

The sound blast started off well before the scheduled time. It was getting progressively unbearable, until suddenly, there was “deafening” silence. I presume, either someone from WBPCB or the Police Station visited or there was wiser counsel. About an hour or so of silence later, there was fairly muted noise – they’d shifted everything indoors into the Club building! 

Even though this was not strictly as per the law and rules, my ears and I could live with this. Saved me a lot of bother – and costs – of doing the legal rounds. All this takes a toll on the nervous system of all concerned. There was a snarky comment on WhatsApp by a member next morning, “Had a lot of fun in the bash! And the best part was that we had it without breaking the law 😂” 

Glory be!

Doing my Dhoti

 

During the marketing management course in MBA, we’re constantly badgered with the 4 Ps – Product, Price, Place, Promotion. Every marketing manager’s day and night and mind (or lack of it) begins and ends with these 4 Ps. During Police service, I came across a different expansion, Politicians, Press, Police and a fourth profession starting with P. One of my colleagues was fond of saying – these 4 Ps are the most untrustworthy of the lot. This piece deals with the first category, the men in Dhoti, the politicians. 

For my marriage, I had applied for seven days’ Casual Leave which was granted. When I was saying ‘see you’s to my colleagues, one Dhotiwala from the ruling party, Shanti Dolui (name changed) landed up and started telling everyone that his party supporters were about to get attacked. Since it was in the island area, he wanted us to block any mobilisation by the opposition party on the rivers so that his poor dear supporters’ lives would be spared. We all thought he was just being hyper but did arrange for police launches patrolling the rivers. I went home, packed and left for the railway station to board the train. Just as I was getting down from the vehicle with my suitcase, an Inspector came running, apologised for being the bearer of bad tidings, and told me that my leave was cancelled and I had to rush back to office. 

I was shocked and surprised but, orders being orders, rushed back to office. What I found out was that far from his supporters being attacked, Shanti Dolui had himself mobilised a lot of his supporters the previous night and launched an attack on the opposition supporters. He had manipulated the Police into arranging the patrolling so that the opposition couldn’t counter-mobilise. However, the opposition supporters in place proved to be numerically stronger and in the skirmish, the ruling party supporters had suffered heavy casualties. Now, I was being tasked to establish peace and rehabilitate the ruling party supporters. I was furious. I also asked why, when I’d proceeded on leave, another Addl SP couldn’t have been sent. Only to be told that no one else was daring to visit the area. 

Cut to a little later. The world had moved on and I had grown up a little and was a Deputy Commissioner in Calcutta Police. While we cops were chasing dacoits, robbers and murderers, the government panicked about something else – Delhi government had fallen because onion prices breached Rs. 50 mark. Every day, there was a meeting chaired by either the Finance Minister or the Home Minister in the state regarding prices of different commodities in different markets in West Bengal and Calcutta. 

In one of the meetings, the honourable Minister averred, “Look, Bengalis will forgive us other vegetable price rises; they will never forgive us rise in the price of potato – 80 % of the country’s potato is grown here. Please stop any export of potato to other states.” His highness’s words were our command and we blocked the four exit routes out of the state for potatoes. This obviously became big news. The next day, Andhra CM told the press, “West Bengal is not giving us potatoes? Fine, we’ll not send any fish to West Bengal.” I didn’t know then but, apparently, 70 % of the fish consumed in West Bengal came from Andhra. 

That was doomsday, followed by emergency meetings. Potato price was actually “small potato” compared to a fish price hike in West Bengal. Potato export to Andhra was expressly “allowed.” For one full week thereafter, I had to report the prices of various categories of fish to the highest authorities. 

During a central government tenure, I was the no. 2 in an organisation. When my Boss retired, I was preparing for a new Boss (whoever he would be). Unfortunately, there were a lot of illegal demands on my organisation because at that time there was a lot of corruption in the air and in the particular sector my organisation was in. My Boss had held firm and was very unpopular with the Minister and LMP (Like Minded People). The Minister happened to be a Jatt. Before retiring, when pressured for an obnoxious favour, my Boss had remarked, “Even if I wanted to do it, my officers, B.B. Dash and others won’t let me …” So the LMP were wary of me. To my chagrin, they not only decided to keep my Boss’s post vacant but gave the charge to a junior guy from outside who they thought would be more pliant and “controllable.” 

I tried to protest but it was all falling on deaf ears. One day I got thoroughly het up and put down everything in writing and sent it across. There was panic and consternation in equal parts. I believe, the LMP told the Minister how I had exceeded all possible limits. The Minister read through the whole missive, twice, then burst out laughing and merely said, “Yeh toh mere jaisa hai … poora Jatt hai.” The matter went to the Prime Minister and I was given the charge – the (un?)happy situation lasted almost four years. 

One Chief Minister (CM) used to actively stoke sycophancy. On the CM’s birthday, all the Ministers and MLAs used to compete to recite the longest poem in honour of the CM. Whenever the CM would travel by air, all the Ministers and many MLAs used to crowd around at the airport. The CISF Commandant at the airport was fed up and developed a routine. He used to draw a circle. All these worthies used to stand inside the circle with their heads bowed until the CM convoy zoomed past. One day the Commandant asked them why they were crowding there when the CM didn’t even bother to glance at them. One of them said, “You don’t know … later the CM checks the video footage of our standing there and from our facial expressions, the CM determines who is how loyal.” 

Well, I also did my share to cater to these idiosyncrasies of the dhotiwallahs. Afer all, as Edwin Lutyens once remarked, “India expects every man to do his dhoti.”