The Rise and Fall of a Baba: Guest Post by Chandra Pillai

This young lad, aged about 20 years, was one of those who Mother Nature appeared to have wholly overlooked, while distributing her largesse, to each human.

What he lacked in looks, he also lacked in intelligence. It took more than a decade of his going to school for the family to finally accept that this lad was never going to acquire an education, of even a rudimentary level. One has to look for positives in everyone, but in this case, the only positives discernible were that he had an excellent appetite/digestion, and could fall asleep with utmost ease, at any time of the day. Also, his near genius at picking quarrels with anyone and everyone coming his way. The positive here was that he’d lose out every time, at every fight.

As the years rolled by, his unsavoury looks only worsened, while his intelligence continued to be low. The family were frankly worried, about his future; attempts to inculcate some money earning skills always failed.

Asked to graze a herd of cattle, a simple enough task, he led them into a patch of land under cultivation, which the hungry cattle decimated in a matter of minutes. Asked to distribute milk to different households, almost immediately the milk cans were overturned, and the entire supply spilled. Asked to collect and dispose garbage, he just rearranged them, along the route, adding to it some more of his own. Asked to help out at the village grocery stall, somehow, he managed to set off a fire within two hours, burning it to the ground. In short, in whatever he handled, Murphy’s Law prevailed. He excelled at speedily discovering and promptly implementing ways in which any task assigned to him could be messed up, without fail.

The family elders held a council, to discuss the available options, and the future course for this lad. The discussions were long and heated, as every suggestion bore within itself the seeds of failure. The lad himself just dozed during these discussions, waking up from time to time to only to replenish his stock of peanuts which he loved chewing even while half asleep.

Suddenly, a cousin, of his age, hit upon a brainwave. Since this fellow is thoroughly useless, and will never change for the better, he said, why not launch him into the world as a spiritual leader, as a Baba? The earnings could be good, he argued, and, with reasonable luck, sustain him practically for the rest of his life. This cousin also volunteered to help with the launch of the career of the lad as a Baba. He offered himself to deputise, at least in the initial stages, as a co-worker, as a deputy Baba. In fact, this cousin was eager to help with this family problem.

The suggestion was eagerly seconded by a distant female relative, of the same age. She was a female in a purely medical sense. Her emaciated appearance, her hollowed out cheeks and her general demeanour generally caused doubts about her gender itself. Whereas females had convex curves, hers were all of the concave kind. It was only her high shrill voice that convinced people that she was indeed a female. She even agreed, in fact, volunteered, to marry him, to help his image as a Baba.

The default option, of turning him into a Baba, was agreed to, and the initiation process began. In the confusion, his marriage, to that almost-female also went through. The location where the Baba would hold his sessions was no problem. One such site was available quite nearby, under a tree. This was, earlier, in fact, a place from which another Baba was operating, with a fair degree of success.

However, that Baba was manhandled severely, and chased away, when he made some improper suggestions, to the village headman’s wife, during one of his sermon sessions. At the close of that chase, he was last seen splashing across an irrigation canal and limping away at a high speed. He was assured of an   instant assassination if he ever showed his face again within a fifty-kilometre radius. Thus, this vacated space, with some scope for an existing client base, was now available.

But, a Baba has to speak, to deliver sermons, and he has to speak convincingly, even if the audience comprises mainly of half-witted women. The deputy Baba came up with a solution here. This Baba would interact only with his Deputy, and the audience also could interact only with the Deputy Baba. The Baba himself would maintain a total silence, and therein lay the secret of his greatness – that would be the message spread across the land; everything he said would be a secret, to be divulged only through his Deputy. For a good measure, he was also conferred the title of Rahasya Baba (The Mystery Baba).

Rahasya Baba became an instant hit. The dull glazed expression on his face suggested a deep contemplation of the infinite, of a world and wisdom concealed from the rest of humanity. Armed with an ash covered body, with liberal daubs of saffron and the various large beaded rudraksha chains effectively hiding his scrawny neck, he made a distinct impression on the beholder. The women disciples, especially the half-witted ones, swayed and swooned in ecstasy. The few men disciples came to feast their eyes on the Baba’s consort, that emaciated female seated next to him, about two paces behind him; the men were not sure of what exactly that figure was and were intrigued at that apparition.

The Deputy Baba also was a busy man. He was constantly on the move, conveying messages back and forth, to and from the Baba. Tiring work, this, as well as thinking up clever responses to silly questions. This called for inventive/imagination skills of a high order. But, the pickings, the recompense was good, and kept growing. His earlier job, as a bicycle repair mechanic in a distant town, was good, but nowhere near as good as this.

But, all too often, the offerings were in kind, and, some of these  were outright painful. An offering of pictures of deities, clearly cut from some calendar, and pasted on to a piece of cardboard, was so annoying that the Deputy Baba was sorely tempted to fling it back on to the face of the offering female. However, he contended himself by merely folding his hands in prayer and handing it back. He was reluctant to initiate anything suggestive of violence, considering that he was always the closest to the audience. But, at times, there was a bonanza as well. On occasions, some devotee would hand over a bottle of country arrack, and a pack of beedis. The Deputy Baba had problems only when sharing the same, later, with the Rahasya Baba and his wife, who insisted on even shares.

Talking of shares, the Deputy Baba wanted a review of the arrangements, whereby the offerings were shared on a basis of a mere 25% to him, and the rest to Rahasya Baba, and his wife. After a rather acrimonious session, with most of the shouting done by the wife, his share was hiked to 33%. He could not quietly pocket any of the offerings, as the wife kept her hawk-like vision firmly on him, throughout the collections process.

During this phase, Rahasya Baba and his wife also were now enjoying life much more. Their humble household had undergone a drastic improvement. In the pre-Baba days, a balanced meal was one in which the meagre revenues were balanced with the meagre fare on the table. But, now, the balanced meal took on a more conventional definition – that of three square meals a day, with regular non-veg items, pure desi ghee, sweets etc.

The wife was now blooming, flourishing as never before. The emaciated appearance was a thing of the past. The cheeks were now chubby, and the concavity of her curves had got replaced with convexity, reminding males with their lecherous looks of the scenic and curvaceous track of a mountain train. Now she walked with an almost seductive swing of the hips. Her gait no longer reminded one of a mud-crab scuttling for cover. Her vastly improved appearances did attract the attention of the Deputy Baba, but she kept him at a distance. She was smart enough to know that a dumb husband is always preferable to a smart lover.

Rahasya Baba’s fame spread far and wide. His client base now included devotees from far away towns, and even some international visitors. The fair-skinned goras/goris couldn’t quite pronounce Rahasya, so, it got anglicized to Rex. It was Rex baba who they came to offer obeisance and homage to. So, the name Rex Raba became the official name.

Rex Baba (under the guidance of his Deputy, of course) now held court at different venues. Franchise arrangements were set up in different areas, and his wife also acquired an audience. She was now known, as Rex Babette. Everything went on like clockwork.

Until, one sad day, the police arrived, to ensure crowd control. One of them recognized the Deputy Baba as the very same bicycle mechanic who had stolen a bicycle from the police station when it was given for some repair work. His immediate arrest, and subsequent incarceration meant that no more guidance, no more profound secret sharing between the Baba and his devotees.

This is how the story of Rex baba ended. Incredibly sad, indeed. However, soon enough, there is bound to come along some other Baba, to provide mental solace and comfort, so the devotees could cope with the sadness, deprivation, and such other mundane challenges of life.

Be patient, friends.

(The author is a retired banker. Decades of handling of the fragile egos of his bosses, studying and acting upon the psychology of his colleagues, and mentoring irate juniors, has failed to kill his creative grey cells. His thoughts are based on contemporary reality and are duly seasoned with ready wit, wisdom, humour, and satire. He unleashes these upon his unsuspecting public through his Facebook wall. He happens to be an ardent fan of P G Wodehouse.

His permission to post this piece here is gratefully acknowledged.)

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Uncle Tom, I and Taxation Blues

When it comes to owning a sprawling property like Brinkley Manor, there is no way I can compete with Bertie Wooster’s miserly Uncle Tom, or, if you wish me to be precise, Thomas “Tom” Portarlington Travers. I do have a humble roof over my head which serves its purpose rather well.

Nor do I have a dynamic wife like Aunt Dahlia who, when she loses a sum of 500 pounds while gambling at Cannes, might ask me to replace the money in order to keep financing her magazine, Milady’s Boudoir. Simply because I do not have ample resources at my command. 

My lair can also not boast of someone like Anatole, God’s gift to our gastric juices. Guests who get invited over to my place often try to come up with the flimsiest of excuses to escape the trauma of having to put plain dal-roti-subzi-chawal down the hatch.  

Nor am I a collector of silver cow creamers. I merely collect books, movies and music albums.  

But when it comes to an aversion to payment of taxes, my thinking absolutely matches that of Uncle Tom.

The Psychology of a Taxpayer

I daresay it is not greed that makes one detest the payment of taxes. Rather, it is the disproportionately high rate of taxes which one objects to. Services delivered by the government barely touch one. Our roads continue to be as bumpy as ever. Our power supply often keeps us on tenterhooks. Our public transport systems offer services which are rarely punctual, seldom tidy and often substandard. Quality medical care only enriches either the hospital owners or the insurance companies. Premium education is a rare commodity, accessible only to the well heeled.    

Above all, the taxation systems are designed to promote dishonesty. Evasion becomes the norm. By dodging taxes, a lay citizen has the power to cock a snook at the revenue authorities. What could be a sweeter revenge than to have been able to resort to some sharp practices to generate some black money and thereby contribute to the parallel economy of the country? In such matters, our ingenuity knows no bounds. Give us a tougher system and we shall always be one step ahead of the government of the day in browbeating it, appear to say the denizens. 

In fact, by resorting to such practices, a citizen may as well be contributing to nation building in his own humble way. One, the parallel economy is well isolated from the formal financial systems, thereby acting as a shock absorber to the jalopy of the formal economy when it runs into a speed breaker like that of the infamous 2008 meltdown. Two, politicians of all hues badly need unaccounted funds to keep winning elections all the time. Thus, we, the people, stand a better chance of keep electing governments which we deserve. Three, the shadow economy keeps greedy banks in tax heavens in the pink of health, partially fulfilling one of the key dictates of our scriptures, namely Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam. Four, such professions as accountants, lawyers and management seniors keep thriving in a perennial state of blissful existence, guiding one through the taxation maze.

I wonder if the tax rates are deliberately kept high so the above mentioned objectives of diverse stakeholders keep getting met. Also, the compliance maze is so designed as to invariably need a bevy of professionals to keep interpreting the fine print year after year. 

Perhaps, the sage advice dished out by Chanakya a few centuries back is willfully neglected. It may be recalled that in his seminal work Arthashastra, he had opined as follows:

Ideally, governments should collect taxes like a honeybee, which sucks just the right amount of honey from the flower so that both can survive. Taxes should be collected in small and not in large proportions.

What we have instead is a group of honeybees which collects not only the honey but also keeps a sharp eye on the soft petals and other tender parts of the flower.   

Our revenue authorities would be quick to point out the miniscule base of the tax-paying public being a reason for high taxes. Uncle Tom may not concur, though. Instead, he may recommend the following: a relentless focus on the employment generating businesses, thereby ensuring a steady income in the hands of a majority; predictable taxation systems which enthuse investors; use of modern technology to connect the dots between the direct and the indirect tax bases.  

However, these are not low hanging fruits. Our politicos typically have a five-year vision which prompts them to continue to be in an election mode most of the times.     

The Great Indian Milled Class

Unlike Uncle Tom, I did not make a fortune doing business in the Far East. I belong to the great Indian Middle Class, famed for the manner in which it upholds such values as honesty, truthfulness and fairness in its dealings with others. Those who belong to this segment of the society also uphold family values and social harmony.

Having slogged for over 35 years in the private sector as a salaried employee, I have always been a sitting duck for tax collectors of all kinds. Scriptures have taught us the value of perseverance and patience. Take away our Standard Deduction and we would simply squirm and keep quiet. Reduce the rates of our bank deposits and some of us may merely write a protest letter to the editor of our daily newspaper. Keep threatening us with a change-over of our hard-earned savings parked in a public provident fund account from the Exempt-Exempt-Exempt category to the Exempt-Exempt-Tax category, and few of us might make some ineffective noises.

Keep inflating our personal transport costs and we shall meekly accept the same. We ignore the fact that close to 45% of the fuel prices get cycled back to the government of the day. Home makers amongst us may keep twiddling their thumbs trying to balance their domestic budgets, but unless there is a direct threat to political power, nary an eyebrow is raised. We eagerly look forward to the next round of elections in the country so at least a transient relief may come our way.

Not to forget the Great Spiritual Tax which does not discriminate between the haves and the have-nots. It is designed to make us suppress our desires, focusing only on our bare needs. Thus, it makes all of us a wee bit more spiritual. A CEO pays as much tax on a bottle of shampoo as his liftman or driver does.

In general, the only long term satisfaction we may have is that of educating our children well and facilitating a smoother life for them in the times to come.

The Exorbitant Price of Honesty

Honesty does not come cheap, though. Recently, when I enquired about the kind of taxes applicable if one were to sell a property and send funds abroad, I was baffled. The mind was boggled to its soggy core. If I were lucky enough to find a buyer who would agree to do a 100% transparent transaction, the dreadful tax implications left me shivering from the top of my head to the base of my feet.

The buyer would need to shell out close to 11% by way of registration charges. As to the seller, a slice of close to 23.6% will need to be paid by way of compliance to the mandarins in the taxation department. If this were not enough, the bank would be happy to provide foreign exchange only if the seller would agree to an additional cost of 5%, by way of a higher education cess. The plea that a 4% education cess would already have been paid as a part of the 23.6% and that a further 5% contribution towards improvement of higher education in the country made no sense may simply fall on deaf ears. The only assurance provided was that of the total damage of 28.6% suffered, the seller may get some refund in due course of time. Thus, between the buyer and the seller, the transaction would get shaved off by a whopping 39.6%. Add to this the legal costs and the speed money which smoothens our lives in general, and we are talking about a cost in excess of 40%!

I am not too sure if the government ever played any role in the organic appreciation of the value of the property over a period of some 20 years when it would have remained in my family’s investment basket. However, I am certain that those framing our taxation rules have undergone an advanced diploma at an academy run by Shylock somewhere on the outskirts of Venice. Chanakya, were he to discover this harsh reality, would surely be found turning in his grave.

A vast majority amongst you would be quick to point out the need for a prospective seller to promptly consult some sharp minds in the realm of finance, so that much of this excessive cost may be avoided. What else could a mentally negligible nincompoop like me do?

But what about one’s humble contribution to the mighty task of nation building? Also, is there a merit in inviting a jaundiced view of the authorities concerned, leading to some nasty notices in the letter box six months hence?

Indeed, it is at times such as these that one’s commitment to honesty and transparency gets tested. Scales fall from one’s eyes. It dawns upon one as to why the real estate market continues to be a shady one, perpetually contributing to the parallel economy of the country.

A Sense of Detachment

Just as P. G. Wodehouse once wrote in the Vanity Fair, I also imagine sitting in my poverty-stricken home and wondering how a tax bandit, having entered my house uninvited, would wave a gun at me, rummage through my pockets and empty these out. He now wears a mask which reminds me of the popular OTT serial Money Heist. Alas, he does not realize that I am not the Royal Mint of Spain.

Nevertheless, he would be leading me to cultivate a sense of detachment from my hard-earned money, much along the lines of what Lord Krishna advises in the Bhagavad Gita. Hope when he leaves me, I shall be in a carefree state of mind.

Next time I get invited to Brinkley Manor, I shall surely ask Uncle Tom about the tax expert he consults!

(For details on the tax blues faced by P. G. Wodehouse, please check out Tony Ring’s book: https://www.amazon.com/You-Simply-Hit-Them-Extraordinary/dp/1870304225)

(Illustration courtesy Suvarna Sanyal)

Related Post:

Remembering Chanakya (Kautilya The Great)

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2016/09/09/psmith-and-mike-discuss-the-great-spiritual-tax-of-india/

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Bertie Wooster dishes out some Parenting Tips

ashokbhatia

I confess I have never had the chance of listening to the prattle of tender feet around me. However, this does not mean that I do not observe kids. I do so, with all the shrewdness at my command. When they giggle and stare at public speakers, the latter are all of a twitter. When they seek protection money from their wannabe step fathers, the soul cringes. When they use paraffin wax to douse fires, one sickens in horror. When they decide to extract a revenge of sorts from cabinet ministers who have reported their smoking endeavours in the shrubberies, one draws appropriate conclusions. When they celebrate their birthdays by either putting sherbet in ink pots or by going AWOL to enjoy a dinner and a movie, one gets overawed with the kind of courage they have.

Having suffered at the hands of such obnoxious kids as Thos, Seabury, Edwin…

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A few things which make me angry these days!

(Non-statutory warning: Reading the article below could be injurious to readers’ mental health and leave them a wee bit depressed. Caution is advised.

The author is reasonably certain that this article is not an outcome of the kind of wholesome pessimism which is believed to envelope one in advancing age.)

There is a mood of despondency which descends upon my frail grey cells once in a while. Dark clouds which have gathered upon me are accompanied by sinister rumblings. Lightning streaks of a menacing kind keep lighting up the sky, duly followed by thunderous howls which pierce my ears. One peers into the future and one shudders to think of the kind of world one would leave behind for our progeny to live in. Tectonic plates of our society appear to be shifting, causing major upheavals.

No, one does not allude to the pandemic stalking us these days. Nor does one refer to such universal problems like global warming, economic disparities, widespread poverty and illiteracy etc. Instead, one refers here to tectonic plates of a different kind – the ones which impact our value systems, human values, social harmony, honesty, fairness and justice, norms of democracy, absence of truthful and factual information, materialistic progress, and the like.

Consider what is happening around us these days.

Some Ground Realities

The Lack of a Conscious Approach to Business Goals

Businesses continue to be driven by greed and avarice alone. Hapless CEOs have no other option but to keep delivering results from one quarter to the next.

There are no guarantees that Volkswagen will not soon come up with yet another technical trick to befool the regulators and its customers. Boeing may yet again secure approvals for launching a model which might put air passengers’ lives at risk. Financial scams will keep tumbling out of corporate closets at a standard frequency which might put an atomic clock to shame.

Think of rising inequalities. Consider a report presented by Oxfam at the January 2021 World Economic Forum’s Davos Agenda, titled ‘The Inequality Virus’. It says that the 1,000 richest people on the planet recouped their Covid-19 losses within just nine months of 2020, whereas the world’s poorest could take up to a decade to recover from the pandemic induced setback. I am certain that philanthropic initiatives of the richest have not suddenly seen a proportionately higher uptick.

So, every crisis that humanity faces turns out to be an opportunity for the well endowed to amass greater wealth. Is this the kind of Materialistic and Unconscious Business model that we wish to continue following? Our answer would of course depend based on whether we are from the ‘haves’ side or the ‘have-nots’ side of the society.

The Monkey Business Called Politics

Probity and decency in the public life of our leaders is long since buried. Gone are the days when vibrant democracies needed a strong opposition to thrive. These days, even the President of a country can himself turn against the hallowed portals of democracy and send rampaging mobs braying for the blood of those out to declare him defeated in an election. In other words, it is one of those promotional offers – you vote in a President and get another one for free!

The aforesaid top boss’ term has revealed enormous gaps between the ideals of American democracy and the reality. Even before he exhorted his followers to attack the Capitol and the legislative branch of government, he ignored watchdog rulings and constitutional safeguards, pressed to overturn the outcome of an election, and pardoned those who covered for him, all the while funneling taxpayer dollars to his family business.

In yet another country, the main adversary runs the risk of not only being poisoned but also getting imprisoned on some ground or the other, while those in power brutally suppress dissent marked by men’s underwear and gold-painted toilet cleaning brushes.

World over, there is no dearth of leaders who have dictatorial ambitions but mask these well with democratic credentials. Speak of transparent political funding and all one gets is the silence of a tomb.

In yet another country, lies, obfuscation of facts and clever data management seem to have become a norm. Photo-ops, positive optics and feel-good media feed by devout followers keep the entire nation in thrall. Attempts to stifle dissent and to paint anyone not toeing the rulers’ line as unpatriotic continue unchecked. Getting offended by comments made by those living thousands of miles away appears to have become a national pastime. When a stand-up comedian speaks up, our clairvoyant nature allows us to guess what offending remark he is yet to make. Prompt legal action gets taken, nipping the intended mischief in the bud.

Building physical infrastructure is simply great. So is the drive to embrace technology to make life of a common man simpler. But when this comes at the cost of demolishing social harmony and making a democratic country free of any kind of opposition worth its while, the long term price of a ‘progress’ of this kind is rather high. I am not an economist, but I wonder if an economy can grow while the society itself is getting fragmented.

World over, quite a few governments have even used the pandemic as a cover to suppress dissent and cut short processes to introduce laws of an unpopular kind. In the process, their soft power is bound to dive down.

The Rudderless Social (and Anti-Social) Media

During 2020, in India, when our northern neighbour had encroached upon our land, and when the media should have been doling out useful health tips for people to stay safe in the midst of a pandemic, the only ‘breaking news’ was the suspected suicide of a Bollywood actor and the activities of his girl friend.

Social media, duly backed by smart algorithms, Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning, keeps shaping our thought processes, our choices, our preferences, our perceptions and our beliefs. We are already living in a fish bowl where the law makers as well as the private players are hands in glove to sell detailed information about us to the highest bidder. Privacy concerns and personal liberties be damned. Pretty soon, it may happen that government support is available only to those who have a pro-government presence on various media platforms.

The whole idea is perhaps to help a lay person evolve into a dumb chum of the first order, unable to use his own judgement in matters of public importance; essentially, to numb the person’s grey cells. In other words, we all become zombies (or jack asses, if you prefer) of the first order.

Little do we realize that there are no free lunches in life. Any service available to us free of cost over the world-wide-web we have spun around ourselves only means that ‘We, the People’ are the product on sale!

If our social media czars do not come up with a realistic code of conduct for themselves soon enough, governments, to salvage their public image, may soon have to start dishing out harsher laws.

Perhaps, one of the czars will soon set up an academy to groom many of our whizz kids into becoming ethical hackers and algorithm developers.

Neglecting Half of the Homo Sapiens

If they stay at home, their contribution to society is never even acknowledged. Rather, it is taken for granted. If they venture out of their home and hearth, lustful gazes disrobe them mentally. If they get violated, they only have to take the rap. In war zones, they are the instruments used to inflict deep wounds on the psyche of the other.

Yes, I refer to the tribe of the so-called delicately nurtured. They are the ones upon whom Mother Nature has conferred the unique capacity of keeping our civilization alive and ticking. They may be as tough as nails and proving themselves to be better than the so-called sterner sex in all fields of human endeavour. A fact which was reinforced yet again when a deadly pandemic arrived at our doorsteps. In public, they may get put on a pedestal and revered. But in private, they often get treated like a doormat, treated as mere objects, only to be used and abused.

Doting lover boys, upon metamorphosing into husbands, often shed their chivalrous masks and start behaving like dictators. If a family breaks up owing to mistreatment, ridicule, abuse and violence at the hands of their husbands, it is the lady of the house alone who gets the entire blame – for being obstinate and uncompromising. The general view is that she is a gold digger of sorts.

Such a patriarchal mindset is not an exclusive prerogative of the poor alone. Nor does it respect geographical boundaries. Education levels also do not make much of a difference. Take couples across different countries, economic status and education level and one is apt to find this to be a universal phenomenon. The Chivalry Quotient may vary across all these parameters, but a singular shortage of preux chevaliers is felt all over our planet. Religious beliefs and even some spiritual tenets reinforce such derogatory views.

In respect of the legal framework, our experience in India has been a mixed one. The females have learnt the art of terrorizing their husbands and their families by foisting cases of imagined harassment, with the sole aim of securing better settlements while seeking divorce. Surely, the training in chivalry truly begins at home – either in the kitchen or at the dining table. Laws can play only a limited role.

The tectonic shift taking place here is that of divorce rates going up and couples preferring to remain friends with perks. Upwardly mobile wives who can stand on their own feet detest drawing husbands who refuse to wear skirts and help out with domestic chores. Once the family structure crumbles, there is a higher probability of the value system of the next generation going for a toss.

The Silence of the Lambs

In many of the issues brought out above, are we ourselves not responsible for the mess that we are in? The silence of our intellectuals, the self-centredness and public apathy of the middle class which more or less upholds values in society and the mute surrender of the common man – are these not some of the factors which have enabled this situation to have come about?

Many years back, I vaguely recall having read a satirical story in Hindi, written by a well known humourist in the language, Hari Shankar Parsai. A herd of lambs is made to believe that few wily foxes alone can solve all their problems. Pretty soon, foxes get voted in. One fine day, a ruling comes that to save the ruling foxes, some sheep should voluntarily surrender to be sacrificed each day so the patriotic fervour is kept alive and the nation is run effectively!

I am not a political science buff. Thus, I am not qualified to say if democracy as a model of governance is failing us. But one of its enabling factors is the presence of conscious leaders who are not shameless and still have traces of humility, empathy, decency and a concern for genuine overall good.

With No Malice towards Anyone  

Educated youth who have no means of earning a living, will they not have a raw anger simmering within them? Will the poorer lot not take a jaundiced view of grand government schemes the benefits of which do not reach them?

Perhaps there is a feeling of helplessness within them. Perhaps they have dollops of patience.  May be they realize that they are too small to bring about any change and feel it is better to accept things as they are and continue wallowing in misery and self-pity, blaming God for all their troubles.

But is a meek acceptance of murkier developments in the world around us a better approach? Can we not dissipate the seething anger within by at least saying what we find to be reproachable? Can we not break our silence of the lambs and speak up?

With Whom Does the Buck Stop?!

Are we ourselves not a part of the problem? Why have we, reasonably educated and rather wise people, decided to outsource our thinking processes and have instead opted to become zombies?!

Do we not keep patronizing companies even when we know that they have been cheating in the past? Are we not the ones who get swayed by propaganda and cast a vote for a particular party or a particular leader? Do we ever boycott a media outlet which acts as a mouth piece of those in power?

If we are addicted to, say, WhatsApp or Facebook, can we really blame their inventors for the issues that we face? Don’t we find it convenient to remain in touch with our friends and family members through these platforms?

When we notice a female being harassed, are we not likely to look the other way? Is the onus of ‘adjusting’ not always put on the female? Can we take a pause before we make a victim the facilitator of a crime?

Overall, by remaining a mute spectator and witness to acts of corruption, misinformation, lies and half-truths, do we not become accomplices to such misdeeds?

It is not wise to altogether point a finger at others only. A knife kind of a tool is given to us. Let us use it to prepare a juicy dish and not to hurt someone. The choice of usage is with us.

Our endeavour therefore should be to stand up, be courageous and outspoken. This alone can get us counted. Even if there is one sane voice amongst all the noise and din, it would resonate with other like-minded individuals out there.

Our salute needs to reach out not only to those who are already raising their voices but also to the decision makers who might eventually get around to listening to us.

Some Silver Linings

All this is not to say that there are no silver linings in the dark clouds hovering above us. As P G Wodehouse puts it, even when the air is pregnant with V or W-shaped depressions, there are always silver linings on the clouds. We shall do well never to repine, never to despair, but to work upon our own selves and on others in our sphere of influence. It is good to remember that, no matter how dark the skies may be, the sun is shining somewhere and will eventually come smiling through.

There are business houses which keep following good values and ethics in their day to day operations. There are leaders who respond well to challenges like social disharmony and stalking pandemics with a dash of human values. They treat dissent as a valuable input for their decision making processes. We also have very few social media and gig economy barons who are being forced by their own employees to either shape up or ship out.

Lawmakers and pressure groups in USA are already reported to be thinking of ways to bring in a wide-ranging overhaul of ethics, laws, the likes of which have not been seen since the post-Watergate era.

Perhaps, eminent legal eagles in India can also take a leaf out of the USA experience. As a country, we had experienced suppression of dissent even during the 1970s, when an emergency was declared. Can some more constitutional safeguards be brought in so that a popular mandate does not give the executive the right to ride rough shod over other arms of the government, thereby increasing the probability of the country being taken in a direction which is not the same as what our founding fathers had envisioned?

Above all, it is the man on the street, busy keeping his body and soul together, eking out a living for his family and even helping others in distress. When the scales from his eyes fall and he wakes up to a life threatening situation at hand, he reacts. The farmers in India are already showing their resolve following the strategy of peaceful protests and civic disobedience used by Mahatma Gandhi many decades ago.

Then we have lone wolf professional bodies. World Without Corruption in Belgium gives businesses a voice in fighting corrupt practices. The Conscious Enterprises Network in UK speaks of conscious leaders leading their enterprises in a holistic value-based manner in all spheres of human enterprise. The Center for Business Ethics & Compliance in Russia is focused on best practices in the realm of ethics and compliance.

Likewise, in India, Spandan Foundation is passionate about human values in organizations and even plans to set up a centre dedicated to the cause. Shakti Leadership highlights the importance of using feminine traits like empathy and compassion in decision making and assists individuals and organizations in their quest for conscious evolution. The Association for Democratic Reforms keeps relevant political issues alive and kicking in public eye.

I am sure there are many others scattered over other continents. Their attempt is to bring like-minded people together and keep the embers of a pious fire aglow, focused on values and ethics.

The Mighty Churning

The society is always in a flux. These days, it appears to be undergoing a mightier churning which reminds one of the episode of Samudra Manthan (The Churning of the Sea) in Indian scriptures. The churning throws up poison as well as the nectar which grants immortality. Those who believe in following the path of righteousness end up securing the latter.

It is easy to see that we have a leadership crisis on our hands. Since a situation also produces a leader, one hopes that more and more conscious leaders keep emerging, nudging us in the right direction.

Admittedly, the silver linings appear to be like a pale parabola of joy, to borrow an expression from P G Wodehouse. This will remain so till the time a bevy of conscious leaders – whether in business or in politics – do not appear on the scene and convert this into a shimmering parabola of bliss.

The solution is not to keep sweeping issues like hunger, poverty, economic non-inclusion, global warming and prejudicial animosity under the carpet. Nor is it to raise the existing walls, whether political, commercial, attitudinal or religious. It lies instead in a truly global view based on the concept of Vasudhaiva Kutumbukam: The World is One Family.

Being a born optimist who believes in having a chin-up attitude, I do hope that some of these tectonic shifts can at least get retarded, if not altogether reversed, in the years to come.

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2020/06/17/why-the-wren-is-a-patriot-and-not-a-nationalist-guest-post-by-prof-badri-raina

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2020/11/23/jeeves-and-the-social-media-challenge

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2016/09/23/bertie-jeeves-and-the-internet-of-things

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/12/08/bertie-social-media-and-blogging-blues

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2018/01/10/jeeves-seeks-a-placement)

 

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Bertie Wooster dishes out some Parenting Tips

I confess I have never had the chance of listening to the prattle of tender feet around me. However, this does not mean that I do not observe kids. I do so, with all the shrewdness at my command. When they giggle and stare at public speakers, the latter are all of a twitter. When they seek protection money from their wannabe step fathers, the soul cringes. When they use paraffin wax to douse fires, one sickens in horror. When they decide to extract a revenge of sorts from cabinet ministers who have reported their smoking endeavours in the shrubberies, one draws appropriate conclusions. When they celebrate their birthdays by either putting sherbet in ink pots or by going AWOL to enjoy a dinner and a movie, one gets overawed with the kind of courage they have.

Having suffered at the hands of such obnoxious kids as Thos, Seabury, Edwin the Scout, Kid Blumenfeld, Peggy Mainwaring and Kid Clementina, I have willy-nilly come to the conclusion that these kids need not be derided and mocked at. Rather, they deserve to be treated as role models for most other kids who would infest our planet in the decades to come.

Their parents need not be pitied and censured. On the contrary, they need to be applauded for the unique contribution they have made to the society at large. One, they have delivered roguish kids who are totally self-centered and can tackle the harsh realities of life with a chin up attitude. Two, they have demonstrated the kind of nerves of chilled steel they have by bringing up kids with such modern values as hatred, disdain, habit of questioning authority, strong faith in falsehoods and fake information, bullying and knowing which side their bread is buttered on. Those weaker than themselves get trampled upon and squished like crawling insects under a pair of size 11 boots. As to stronger bullies, they analyze their psychology, bury their egos and become submissive ‘nodders’. Social recognition, a rapid rise in a rigid hierarchy and accumulation of wealth is bound to follow them in due course.

A Set of Futuristic Values

What I am driving at is simply this. To prepare kids for a glorious future, we need to revamp our education policies. Parents –whether of the present or the aspiring kind – need to be clear as to the set of values which would serve their offspring better in the times to come.

Besides teaching them the virtues of the likes of Jesus, Rama, Krishna and Mahatma Gandhi, kids also need to be told of the sterling qualities of such figures as Satan, Ravana, Kansa, Duryodhana and Dushasana. Villains such as Sher Khan (The Jungle Book), Scar (The Lion King) and Tai Lung (Kung Fu Panda) could see them surviving the harsh slings and arrows of life with aplomb.

They need to be imparted skills as to how to thrive in an environment of hate, untruth, dishonesty, skulduggery, bullying and hoodwinking the weak and the vulnerable while sucking up to those who happen to be in power. A high degree of proficiency in hypocrisy is what they need to be egged on to achieve.

Hating the ‘Other’

Armed with a hateful attitude, they would prod the not-so-blessed kids into achieving perfection.  In any case, concepts like empathy, harmony and compassion are already passé. To teach them to love their neighbours no longer makes sense. Best opportunities come up for those who are selfish and have deep reserves of hatred towards the ‘other’. These could be people of a different race, religion, caste, creed, skin colour and economic wherewithal. Children need to be groomed to operate in an ecosystem of hate.

The Perks of Lying

Being glib liars, they would waltz through their lives in a smoother manner. The market share for truth is shrinking with each passing year. The market for falsehood, misleading data and fake news is zooming. By adopting a value system along these lines, explaining one’s conduct to either an aggressive boss or a nagging spouse would be far easier. Many of our leaders who have the unenviable task of governing countries have already perfected this art.

The Art of Cheating

A related core life skill is that of cheating. Fraud is a global industry which is recession proof. Companies do it all the time. Governments routinely resort to it so as to protect their public image. One is never too sure of the quality of data being unleashed upon the gullible public, whether regarding economic progress or public health. Reneging on sovereign guarantees by invoking a force majeure clause is set to become a norm.

Even when faced with a raging pandemic, human ingenuity in ripping off hapless patients has never been found wanting. Many healthcare professionals are capitalizing on the fear of the pandemic and laughing all the way to their banks.

Civic Disobedience

With a questioning mindset, innovations would rule the roost, propelling our civilization faster on the path of evolution.  The merits of standing up to those in power need to be driven home in a ruthless manner. In fact, with youth unrest spurting in many countries, we already have an inkling of the shape of things to come. All such protests produce a younger generation of leaders who would improve the delivery of services to a lay citizen. Homo sapiens will make mighty strides in all their endeavours.

Bullying and Nodding

The meek do not inherit the earth, so to say. One cannot be like my friend Gussie Fink Nottle who is tongue-tied when it comes to proposing to a female he feels attracted to. One has to be groomed to be a dasher. If one’s Dashiness Quotient is high, one can hope to achieve goals better and faster. Bullying and pushing others are habits which help one at all stages of one’s life.

But when it comes to those stronger than us, and those who are in power, one has to kowtow to their mighty egos. Becoming a professional ‘nodder’ and a thorough Yes-person is bound to bring home the bacon.

Proficiency in Hypocrisy

Scriptures impart our kids moral lessons which are much past their expiry date. Some of you may recall my having won a Scripture Prize while at school. But you may not be able to point out how that knowledge had ever helped me to wriggle out of the prospect of a saunter down the aisle. Invariably, it was Jeeves who always came to my rescue.

The guy who said that our thoughts, our words and our actions should be aligned was surely an ass of the first order. What works these days is exactly the opposite. Let us say you hate your government or your boss. If you say so openly, you could either be found cooling your heals in a jail – without the option, of course – or keep missing some juicy promotions in your career. If Bingo Little were to confess to having blown up his allowances on some sporting endeavour, the dove of matrimonial peace would hastily pack its bags and abandon his home and hearth.

Enabling a Faster Spiritual Evolution

Kids armed with such futuristic values would play an important role – that of hastening the process of spiritual evolution of our species.

Someone, whose name I forget, spoke of survival of the fittest. What I propose here, if followed by conscientious parents and our education policies, will surely lead us to nurture kids who would not only survive but also do well in the times to come.

If this were to happen, one could safely peer into the future and grunt in satisfaction in much the same manner as one would after having put down the hatch one of the lavish spreads dished out by Anatole. The soul, weighed down by current anxieties, would get revived.

Couples in the reproductive age bracket, whose unions get blessed with roguish kids, will be assured of a very bright future for their coming generations. By inheriting the combined loopiness of their parents, such kids would ensure a rapid spiritual growth of all those around them – the aunts, the uncles, the nurses, the governesses, the headmasters, the teachers, the priests, the sports coaches, the drivers, the liftmen, the gardeners and many others.

Some of you are already raising kids who are disobedient and undisciplined at home. Outside, they happen to be gun toting monsters. You deserve to be richly complimented for the many sacrifices you make for your progeny. Your decision to expose tender minds to inane television shows, inappropriate content on social media and violent cartoon shows is obviously helping.

Making Kids Hotter  

Even those amongst you who are convinced that I happen to be mentally negligible would agree with me that all kids need to be groomed into becoming ideal citizens of their respective nations and make a positive contribution to society through their ability to hate, lie, cheat, bully the weak and by learning the refined art of sycophancy, cozying up to those in power. They need to use resource and tact to break their eggs and whip up sumptuous omelettes for themselves and their near and dear ones.

Kids these days are already hot stuff. We need to take immediate steps through proper channels to make them hotter in the decades to come.  Bringing up losers is surely not your idea of having fun in life. Scripture knowledge has limitations. Character development centered on such values as love, respect, humility, compassion and empathy takes bright kids on a negative trajectory.

Who Can Bell the Cat?

Who can bring about this change in our thinking? Perhaps not our political leaders, many of whom hide their dictatorial ambitions behind a thin veneer of democratic principles. Our mandarins thrive on opacity and an innovative capacity to come up with roadblocks to whatever is proposed. When combined together, both love an obedient, subservient, meek and complaint public. For them, a vibrant, independently thinking and questioning citizen is a highly undesirable commodity.

Closer home, Lord Sidcup may not approve of the idea but deserves to be sounded out on this fruity scheme. I believe it is safe to interact with him over internet these days. I would not run the risk of being torn from limb to limb.

Perhaps Rosie M Banks and Bingo Little can be persuaded to spearhead a revolution of this kind.

Another possibility could be someone like Stiffy Byng or Roberta Wickham taking up the cudgels. When it comes to propagating values of the kind being proposed by me, their credibility is bound to be much higher. A promotional drive by them, directed at parents, would strengthen the foundations of our civilization no end. Education ministers and mandarins across different countries who do not pay heed will run the risk of either their hot water bottles being punctured or cell phones getting pinched.

Would you have any suggestions?!

(Inputs from Mr Satish Pande, an ardent fan of P G Wodehouse, are gratefully acknowledged)

 

(Related Post:  https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/07/05/the-gallery-of-rogue-kids-in-plumsville)  

 

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A Wodehousean look at the General Elections in India

 

Non-statutory warning

If you happen to have a pre-determined preference for any specific political outfit in India, you read this only at your own risk and peril. You may get miffed at some parts of this piece, albeit written with malice towards none.

 

Come election time, and the denizens of India forget all their miseries and have a rollicking time. With the biggest festival of democracy on its way, the pampering they receive makes them hopeful of their future yet again. Freebies, sackfuls of the green stuff and tissue restoratives of all kinds are made available in abundant measure. Dreams of the next round of good and secure days get dished out with much aplomb.

Politicos who have an eye on their power and pelf get busy computing their likely ‘returns on investment’ in a high risk game. The media barons enjoy supreme bliss at all the moolah they rake in, thanks to their TRP ratings reaching stratospheric levels. Almost all sectors of the economy experience a boom, what with hassled leaders nipping around all corners of the country.

One can readily spot a Roderick Spode who continues to hone his oratorical skills while peddling his deep commitment to the Cause. The gullible public dreads the day he invokes Shakespeare at the beginning of any of his speeches, addressing them as ‘Friends, countrymen….’ A team of devoted followers ensure that those in opposition keep getting hauled over coals over their acts of omission and commission, the latter term specifically alluding to some alleged scams in the past.

Aunt Dahlia can be seen quietly tucking into the lavish spreads of Anatole, while keeping an indulgent eye on the career moves of Bonzo. The latter, having learnt his lessons well from the Market Snodsbury Grammar School speech of Gussie, keeps pointing accusatory fingers at those of the other party. To boost his electoral prospects, his sister Angela Travers also pitches in. The jury is still out if she runs the risk of being bitten by any sharks – political or otherwise – on one of her river cruises.

The revolutionary pals who fail to recognize the new-age challenges facing their outdated ideology have their share of the fun by beating up policemen, burning buildings and vehicles, smashing shop-windows, and resorting to pressure tactics to get the clueless citizenry to cast their vote in favour of their party.

When the self-assured stuffed-frog charisma of an A B Filmer starts waning, his family members get deployed to keep the power closer to his saggy bosom. Likewise, the morally dubious character of several of the candidates can be seen to be built along the lines of either a Gregory Parsloe-Parsloe or an Edward Cootes. Many of them have criminal cases pending against them for crimes which exclude the pinching of an Empress of Blandings. The never-say-die spirit of several John Bickersdykes keeps the public guessing as to which political party they might end up joining next.

There is no dearth of aspirants who could beat Smooth Lizzie at her own game. Targeting the constituency of those who toil down the stairs – under-butlers, housekeepers, scullery maids, footmen, and the like – tall promises get dished out with much fervour.

Some of the candidates are cast in the mould of either a Ginger or a Stilton. They happen to be reluctant politicians, upon whom political ambition has been thrust by a no-nonsense family member.

Quite a few lion-tamers built along the lines of Rev Aubrey Upjohn can be seen carefully guarding their speeches, lest they get pinched by the opposition camp, leaving them literally speechless at public gatherings.

What boggles the mind of a lay voter is the kind of melange of politicos on the offer on the opposite side. If one were to devour the exploits of Bertie Wooster, Lord Emsworth, Rupert Psmith, Bingo Little, Madeline Bassett, Stiffy Byng and Aunt Agatha in rapid succession, one could be excused for experiencing a similar swimming sensation in the old cerebrum.

The not-so-pale parabola of joy

As the General Drama unfolds, the conduct of the country’s election watchdogs comes under the kind of severe scrutiny which would put a professional newt-fancier to shame. They keep burning the proverbial midnight oil to keep a track of the blatant violations of its Model Wooster Code, which is observed more in breach than in adherence. At times, where opposition parties are concerned, a Sam Goldwyn kind of aggressive approach is taken to address violations. As to the ruling dispensation, a Poppet like deferential approach often becomes the oportet actio.

Even the likes of Sir Watkyn Bassett, who might have by now risen to the highest echelons of judiciary, are not spared the trauma of being dragged into some controversy or the other, thereby distracting them from dishing out harsh sentences without the option.

Some specific shades of this parabola of joy are as under:

The Eulalie Effect

When the colours of an opponents’ underwear get mentioned as part of a political discourse.

The Angry Swan Syndrome

If the public is behaving like an irate swan, and it is raining accusations on several other fronts, it makes sense to climb to a safer roof top and take cover under the umbrella of a different issue altogether.

The Juice of an Orange Factor

Those who entertain thoughts of civil disobedience in any form routinely get pampered with patchwork incentives which are in the nature of the juice of an orange. These ensure that while fundamental issues do not get resolved, short-term solutions with a transient feel-good effect get worked upon. Rebellion is kept at bay.

Unfortunately, many Indians still survive only on a handful of rice and could indulge in acts of civil disobedience. However, since the Father of the Nation is no longer around, a leadership vacuum of his style – fans may recall that he never sat down to a good juicy steak and follow it up with roly-poly pudding and a spot of Stilton, as advised by one of the Hollywood producers – ensures that our political Dream Merchants may breathe easy.

The Peggy Rebuttal

If a voter cannot unnerve a speaker by simply staring and giggling at him, the option of watching the person land in a whirring helicopter, collecting one’s quota of freebies and leaving the place before the speech begins is always open.

The Gladys Spell

Empathizing with the vulnerable sections of the society and offering them protection from the Angus McAllisters of poverty, illness and unemployment just before the drum rolls start beating. This enables the Lord Emsworths of our times to make their ancestors singularly proud of them.

The Stiffy Byng Approach

In order to keep the opposition leaders on tenterhooks, central investigating agencies get unleashed upon them, much like a bunch of Bartholomews pouncing upon their next human prey. Supercilious gazes and raids apart, they keep sniffing with much alacrity at the latter, often making them climb up their cupboards storing some dark secrets , and then pull these up after them when they have done so.

The Psmith Skillset

In order to bring home the gravy in the form of political power, gangsters in the mould of Bat Jarvis get befriended. They even get encouraged to contest elections and romp home to the highest law-making body of the land.

The Schnellenhamer Track

Movie moghuls are encouraged to dish out flicks which support the ruling party’s agenda, leaving them relishing their place under the sun and also laughing all the way to their banks.

The Rosie M Banks Approach

Authors, editors, content creators and intellectual coves of all hues get hired to tom-tom the achievements of the political party sponsoring their outpourings.

Apparently apolitical interviews to adoring movie stars get used to showcase the softer side of political stars.

The Ashe Marson Effect

When politicos routinely display their exercising skills in prominent public spaces for the entire world to see, the cabmen, the waiters, the chambermaids, the proprietors of the fast food joints nearby, street cleaners, children and cats stop laughing after some time.

The Captain Bradbury Approach

Love for their motherland makes some of the candidates take this approach. It involves invoking the armed forces, the nuclear weapons and such other strong arm tactics which one would prefer to see in a street brawl instead.

The Chivalry Challenge

When the game of naming and shaming one of the female candidates starts, all notions of chivalry vanish. A competition as to who can stoop lower starts in right earnest. A wager on the outcome could remind one of the betting records set by The Great Sermon Handicap.

The Bobby Wickham Technique

Taking a leaf out of the conduct of Bobby Wickham who pitted John Hamilton Potter and Clifford Gandle against each other so as to secure her spinsterhood, politicos have already perfected the art of dividing the society along religion and caste fault lines, thereby securing their respective vote banks.

The Alfred Mulliner Magic Trick

When data becomes a liability, either suppress it, or hire some smart statisticians who might perform the magic of concocting another version which could be unleashed on the unsuspecting public.

If votes are getting recorded in some contraptions of an electronic kind, hire experts to find out the feasibility of tinkering with the same.

The Digital Sharks

These are the unsung digital warriors who have learnt their art of being conscientious from The Efficient Baxter. They keep churning out all kinds of stuff: The Flattering and Deceiving kind, as also the Outright Derogatory kind. Hundreds of millions of voters who are glued to their smart screens take these for gospel truths and unwittingly decide the destiny of the country, handing over the reins to a government they deserve!

The Amusement Quotient

Gullible denizens can be excused for believing that all politicians are as different as chalk and cheese. Nothing could be more misleading. Their means might appear to be different, but their goals are not. Irrespective of their affiliation, they chase the goal of grabbing and retaining power. If they cannot be kings, they aspire to be king-makers.

They live in a fish bowl. Whatever they say or do should appeal to their constituents. Their private lives have to bear the strictest investigation. Their sources of funds have to be kept under wraps. When it comes to their misdemeanours, the media has to be kept at an arm’s length.

With each election, the level of the political discourse keeps deteriorating. But the Amusement Quotient keeps improving, bringing much-needed succour to the Common Man facing the harsh slings and arrows of Life.

(Illustration on top courtesy Suvarna Sanyal, a retired banker who has an eye and an ear for all there is to see, listen to and laugh at in this world.

Caricature of Mahatma Gandhi  by R K Laxman)

(Related Posts:

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/10/18/how-about-promoting-election-tourism

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2015/10/10/politicos-in-plumsville-part-1

https://ashokbhatia.wordpress.com/2014/08/26/delightful-characters-of-the-canine-kind-in-plumsville)

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About P G Wodehouse being a satirist

 

When someone of the calibre of Arunabha Sengupta decides to wield his pen (oops….keyboard!) and dishes out something Plummy, die-hard fans of the Master Wordsmith of our times rejoice. The sceptics make feeble attempts to punch holes in the arguments put forth. The fence-sitters suddenly realize that there is more to Plum than meets the intellectual eye.

The rest of humanity, comprising those who remain not-so-blissfully unaware of the blissful works of P G Wodehouse, continues to trudge through life, sans the succour which low-hanging fruits of eternal wisdom offer on the streets of Plumsville.

Source: About

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