D - 49

An attractive perk of working in the Government is the residential quarters. In metros getting a decent house on rent within the House Rent Allowance is like catching the Don - mushkil hi nahi, namumkin hai. Where in Hyderabad would I get a three bedroom house for Rs 6000? Often, the location of the quarters in upmarket areas, like Banjara Hills in Hyderabad, makes the deal more lucrative. So the first thing I did after joining at Hyderabad was to apply for a residential quarters. Thankfully, there were so many vacancies that I was given a list of vacant quarters to choose from.

I was told that I was entitled to a three bedroom house. When I entered, I found that all the rooms were of the same size. Small. It took me some time to grasp the functional utility of each room. After a careful examination, deep ponder and a silent sigh, I realized that the differentiation factor was the shelves. With some imaginative application of inductive logic, I deciphered the functional utility of each room. If the shelves are open, it is the living room. If the shelves have doors, it is a bedroom. If the shelves don’t have doors but have an adjoining sink, it is a kitchen. If there are no shelves, it is a bathroom.

Talking about the shelves, I must say that they are the biggest eyesore of the house. They have those sad unpolished black stone slabs which reminds you of a black leather shoe whose surface is dotted with fungus due prolonged disuse. Even if you decide to build a door to close them, you can’t. That is because the shelves are located in such strategic corners that there is no support for the hinges of the proposed doors. Just one look at them, you would realize how right Einstein was when he said, “Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former.”

Einstein reminded me to check the incubator of ideas and the birthplace of Eureka – the bathrooms. The attached bath has pipelines for water heater but no electrical lines; just like having irrigation canals without dams. The common bath, by an act of providence, has both the pipelines and electrical lines for a water heater. So like Jack and Jill, the couples who stay there, should daily fetch a pail of water and, consequently, one day fall down and break their crowns. There were two pipelines, an inlet and an outlet, protruding out from the wall of the common bath, which happens to adjoin the dining area. The caretaker informed me that I could use the provision either to fix a wash basin (which, I had to bring and I have no clue what I would do with it if I vacate the place) or a washing machine. I imagined my guests watching my undergarments churn inside the washing machine while their food undergoes a similar process inside their stomachs. Not a very appetizing sight.

The windows were an architectural atavism. Unlike the contemporary windows which have a steel grill fitted within a wooden frame, these windows have a steel frame which is embedded in the walls. May be it was the architectural expression of the metaphor that the bureaucracy is the steel frame of the nation. Not that I have problem with their artistic liberties. But, if I have to tinker with the window to fit my window air-conditioner, I would have to break the wall. Something that is difficult to undo when I vacate the place.

All windows have plain glass. I guess the message is transparency, like charity, begins at home. Since the house is on the ground floor, I would be forced to draw the curtains during the day to protect my modesty, lest there would be initiation of disciplinary proceedings for behavior unbecoming of an officer and penal proceedings under section 292 of the IPC for obscenity.

The whole design made me wonder if there was an ingenious engineering mind that applied undue diligence to ensure that every provision would be available but none of them can be utilized. Or is it just the native intelligence of an engineering department whose designing skills are molded by rules, laws, bye-laws and budget than science, common sense and ergonomics.

Sufficiently scared for the day, I decided to immediately call off further inspection of the house. I asked the caretaker to get it painted as a coat of paint is complimentary for the new incumbent. The choice of shade, like with your parents, boss, kids and 432,345,958 other things in life, does not lie with you. Nine upon ten occupants subsequently regret availing the service and conclude that they could have spent money from their pockets to get their homes painted.

It took me a week to arrive at the same conclusion. The painter, with a maniacal sense of duty, went ahead painting the whole house. In the process, he forgot to remove the keys of the wardrobe before painting it. The result? Upon drying, the paint transformed itself into an incredible adhesive. I can lock and unlock my wardrobe but cannot take the keys out. The wardrobes were the only utilities that were well-placed and adequately functional. Now that they have joined the bandwagon of dysfunctionals, the house is ready to be occupied.

Welcome to D-49, Income Tax Colony, Road No: 10, Banjara Hills, Hyderabad.

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One Down

One year isn’t a very long time in one’s lifetime. But when I met my batchmates after a year, it seemed to be quite long considering the cumulative vicissitudes of their lives. Some gained weight while some remained the same. No one seemed to have lost weight, though. Some lost hair while one showed off his rejuvenated scalp. Some got married while I heard, sadly, a few are already heading for separation. And others like me are still sitting at the fence unsure of the kind of person to tie a knot with. Some became parents while one lost his kid. Those who were deafeningly silent during training spoke at length about their experiences in the field while those who were passionately argumentative failed to even make it to the batch reunion. A Teetotaler who despised our late night revelries during training was found clinking glasses with utmost gaiety. Some complained about life while some showed contentment. Some were so eager that they came two days in advance and left two days after the reunion was over. Some were so indifferent that they neither bothered to turn up nor offered any reason for their absence. It was fascinating to see what one year could do to a person.

We talked, talked and talked. Sometimes with our batchmates, sometimes with our faculty, sometimes with the support staff of the academy. During the day, during the night and into the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes with our mouths and sometimes with our eyes. Sometimes from the heart and sometimes from the mind. Sometimes in inebriation and sometimes in sobriety. Sometimes aloud, sometimes in a whisper and occasionally, in silence too.

Some emotionally went back to the doors of their erstwhile hostel rooms which were now locked as the present incumbents were away. Some like me wanted to but failed as their laziness got better of their emotions. Some donned their sports gear and went back to the sports complex in the evenings. Others like me just sat back surfing. Some trampled every inch of the roads in the academy recollecting their moments with those inches of space. Some faithfully went back to Poonam Chambers, the nearby shopping complex which catered to our day-to-day needs during our training days.

Someone said that when you look through the prism of nostalgia, everything appears beautiful. But one year is too short a time for nostalgia. So, I must admit, everything was not beautiful. Personal tragedies were too close in time to forget. Professional rivalries were too recent to forget. Comparisons, and the consequent envy, were not too subtle to miss. Some, unfortunately, still could not solve their issues on personal front. Contrary to the popular belief, selection in civil services is not a panacea to all the problems in one’s life.

But I believe, in the long run, we all get even and in the longer run, we all are dead. Till then, stay happy and keep smiling.

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Performance Anxiety

Last week, I came across an open letter to Mr. Vinod Rai, the Comptroller and Auditor General of India. Mr. Rai mooted for performance-linked pay for PSU bank managers at a certain lecture. In response, the author raised the issue of assured pay and promotions in the civil service and wondered why not such a scheme begin with the civil services.

Considering the paltry increase in pay one gets with promotions, I wonder if denial of increments and promotion would really be effective. Since promotions are usually accompanied by transfers, I have heard people who desisted from promotion due to personal commitments. Also, there are people who perceive jobs in the higher rung to be sinecure and those below to be more interesting. So there is every chance that someone may be actually happy to retain a post of his liking than be promoted to a post of his dislike.

What is more important is that right persons man the right jobs. Government is a wonderful place which not just accommodates but actually needs all kinds of people. There is a place for the hares to usher in change and there is also a place for the tortoises to maintain the status quo. And remember, status quo is not such a dirty word as many presume it to be. In large diverse country like ours, stability is as important as change. A good administration is all about finding the right mix of both.

Unfortunately, it is these status quoists about whom many complain. The complaints become shriller when the status quoists are posted in places where change is urgently required. The solution is not punishing them with a refusal of promotion or increment. It would do no difference because even at a lower rank unless he is posted to the right job, the desired results will not be achieved. The solution lies in identifying one's skill and style of working and posting him to a place where his skills would be utilized best.

P.S: I don't want any sweeping cynical generalizations that those who work for the Government lack skill.

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The Making of a Taxman

(This post is dedicated to my Cultural Secretary, who silently works hard and comes up with innovative proposals. Be it purchase of new musical instruments or creating a collection of different genres of music from all parts of the country or celebration of every festival from Lohri to Pongal to Holi or an extended game of Dumb Charades, he is always working to ease out the stress of tax laws. Commissioner Baghalpur Saab (as we fondly call him), you rock!!! )

I must apologise for the long hiatus in posting. It is only a fortnight since I got my computer in my room. I still don’t have internet. And it is difficult to blog amidst the din of our computer lounge. To those who are wondering what happened all these days, I present a brief summary of what happened in this long gap.

It is close to four months since I arrived at National Academy of Direct Taxes. To chronicle my stay in one post is virtually impossible. But idiots like me can achieve even the impossible with an unbelievable ease. At least my stupidity helps me to believe so. Before, I proceed let me inform you that I have a slight problem in judging time and space. At times, this is aggravated due to short term memory loss. So if you find that I have mixed up tenses, places, persons, genders, reality and fantasies, please forgive me.

We landed on 9th December. Contrary to our expectations, December was pretty warm. Probably, it was the warmth of our preceding batch, the faculty and our then Director General, who always had a special love for probationers. As days passed, the warmth increased. But this was from a different source – Tea. Now don’t dismiss this with a condescending sigh. It was at NADT that I discovered that there exists a ritual called High Tea. For someone who seldom drank tea, high tea was something very alien. But, soon we learnt that high teas were a common thing in the government and one must learn to enjoy it.

We had so many High Teas during December that the IPCC almost issued a missive accusing us of disproportionately contributing to global warming. An undisclosed highly placed report from the Economic Intelligence wing reportedly observed that if FBT was imposed on High Teas, then the fund collected could single-handedly meet the budget requirements of NREGA, SSA and NACO. However, considering that it would place a huge burden on most of the Government departments, the observation was silently pushed under the carpet.

On a serious note, high teas actually serve as an excellent platform to impart soft skills. For example, how to eat crispy golden fried Jalebis with a fork while holding the tea cup in a saucer in one hand and the plate containing the jalebis in another. Or how to eat with poise even when you might have actually been starving for three days and the snack is your favourite one.

But soon the incidences of High Tea reduced and we got restless. So we decided to elect a Cultural Secretary a.k.a CulSec and a Film Secretary a.k.a FilSec to make our evenings more eventful. The new CulSec took his role too seriously and celebration of various festivals became a serious affair in the academy. He is forever worried about what to celebrate. Such is his enthusiasm that when the calendar did not have any events for two consecutive weeks, he decided to celebrate International Holocaust Remembrance Day. He insisted that we have a really really sad song and a dance in slow motion. Luckily, just in time I informed him that you can just commemorate it, but not celebrate. He dropped the idea but not before finding a new reason to celebrate.

On February 6th, he wanted to celebrate the National Day of Niue. Officer Trainees (OTs) who had geography as their optional in Civil Service Examination, especially those who got the interview call again, are still trying to find where this country is. Nevertheless, the CulSec went ahead and planned a full-length programme with a folk dance from Tamil Nadu, a bhangra from Punjab, two songs (one instrumental and one vocal), and one dance. We, again, got into a fire fighting mode. We had to create an alternate event. Since the auditorium had excess capacity and no one in Nagpur was willing to come we decided to call our batchmates from Customs and Central Excise. They smelled something fishy and sent their senior batch. And this was what we were waiting for. The moment they landed in Nagpur they were led into the guest rooms and for the next one week we taught them the Income-tax Act. Why should only we have the pleasure of learning the act? Of course, we did keep our promise and treated them to the promised cultural evening on their last day of their stay.

While you are reading this post, the CulSec would get ready to celebrate Africa Malaria Day. It promised to be a grand event as sponsorships have already been obtained from all leading mosquito repellent products. When he is not organising festivals or lobbying for sanctioning of new proposals, he would be found writing his autobiography “Count Your Hair Before They G(r)o(w)”. And he is not the only budding writer here. At least a dozen books are on the offing from our batch. Some of the interesting ones are: How to Tax the Dead – A key to widen the tax base, 10001 Successful Reasons for Casual Leave, Seven Habits of Highly Unsuccessful KTPs[Refer footnote 1], Outsourcing Assignments and Income Tax for Dummies. All copies of the last book are sold out even before the first print.

I am not so intellectually endowed to write a book. So I prefer to read. I love autobiographies and Richard Branson’s is my all-time favourite. I have been reading it for over a decade. No luck, yet. Well, I am a slow learner.

When we are not reading or writing books, we watch movies. Our FilSec is no-nonsense guy who believes that movies must go beyond their targeted purpose of entertainment. At least he makes an attempt. What is great about watching meaningful movies? The challenge lies in watching meaningless movies and then trying to figure out what the movie was about. Towards this end, we had screenings of bollywood avant garde movies, like Mumbai Salsa. It was a cinematic expression of modern art. No one understands what it is, but everyone has a radically different story to tell, though they see the same visuals. Getting back to the movie, it had two far-reaching consequences, one unintended and one intended. First was that two Officer Trainees (OTs) qualified for an exchange program with the hospital [Refer footnote 2] across the road. Second was that the Hobbies Secretary started salsa classes. It was only later we came to know that salsa wasn’t as easy as it appeared. I had to abruptly drop out as doctor advised me not to lift weights more than 100 kgs.
My description of life here would be incomplete if I fail to mention the most exciting and adventurous activity which a few brave OTs undertake, marriage. Every weekend someone sets off to try his luck with the opposite gender. Activities range from visiting a prospective spouse, negotiating terms for a peaceful and non-violent marital life, actually getting married (which again could range from civil, ceremonial, secular, religious etc), pestering for family quarters in the campus etc. Those who do not have an opportunity to indulge in any of these luxuries spend their time watching movies like “Runaway Bride”, “My Best Friend’s Wedding” and “Four Wedding and (my?) Funeral”.

If you are wondering about the conspicuous absence of academic activities in this post, it is because I really don’t get what is happening in the class. My understanding of English is a little poor. So when the Basic Hindi classes [Refer footnote 3] are conducted, I go to my Basic English classes. I am the only student there. I have learnt the spellings of articles, pronouns and propositions. I am beginning to learn the spellings of a few nouns like “Income”, “Tax”, “House”, “Property”, “Business”, “Profession”, “Salary” etc. Once I complete my English classes, my regular classes will commence. Till then I have been advised to sleep (but not snore) in the class. I sign off with the promise in the next edition you will find my experiences in the class.

1. KTP – Keen Type Probationers, those whose excuse for existence is to study, study and just study.
2. Opposite our campus, there is mental hospital.
3. It is part of the Official Language Policy.

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The Spotlight is on me !!!

Kuffir wanted to know why I joined the Civil Services, a very very personal question. And I told him the secret.

Thanks Kuffir, for the invitation to write for Blogbharti.

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Decline of Civil Servants? Not Really.

It is widely perceived that there has been a gradual decline in the moral and ethical standards in public life since independence, which is also reflected in the character and conduct of public servants. Corruption has affected all sections of society and is prevalent from the highest to the lowest levels of bureaucracy. It was believed that, with rare exceptions, IAS officers were person of integrity and moral courage who administered law and rules with a degree of fairness and impartiality. This perception has changed to an extent that it is now believed that a majority of The IAS officers are deviants; and do not abide by the normative standards of behaviour and conduct expected of them.

Those are lines from the first paragraph of Chapter III – Values, Attitudes and Moral Imperatives from “Report of the Study Group on the Training of IAS Officers: Impact Assessment and Strategy for the Future”. The report was the result of the study group set up by the Department of Personnel and Training Vide its sanction order No. 15012.2/1/95-(Trg) dated 14th march, 1996. The team had closely interacted with various training institutes and had a special focus on LBSNAA.

Prima facie, these lines might not surprise a lot of people as it is a general perception that there is a decline in the quality of public servants, especially in the moral quotient. That perception has also been often extended to even the entrants into the service. Paragraph 3.8 from the same chapter in the report is a pointer in that direction.

Fresh entrants into the civil services today, who operate in this unwholesome environment, are disillusioned and confused right from the start. As they observe their seniors, many of whom are either apathetic or unhelpful, the younger members choose the relatively pleasant course of expediency, and swim with the tide, while paying lip service to ethical standards and norms of conduct.

However, after reading this memoir of a former IPS officer who attended the Foundation Course forty four summers ago, I wonder if there has actually been a 'decline' in the quality of entrants.

One evening four I.A.S. officers got a bindas (uninhibited) lady probationer of Indian Railway Accounts Service drunk in a room of Kutesar Castle and then made her condition so pathetic that for about a month she could sit only on a pillow in the classroom. The matter had become the talk of the academy but the administrators, in their concern for the career of the young I.A.S. officers, initiated no action against those probationers, and considered it sufficient to advise them, "Choose bearable number."

One year earlier, an I.A.S. probationer had criminally assaulted a minor daughter of a poor man living on the hill-slope behind Charleville Hotel. The then Director, with stated intent of saving the girl's honor, had hushed up the matter after advising the probationer, "Choose proper age."

Nothing, even remotely as serious as the instances above, has occurred during the present Foundation Course. So the logical conclusion should be that the quality of entrants is actually improving. Encouraging, isn’t it?

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