O Nissar, Where Are You?

Has it ever happened to you?

Have you ever faced a situation where you were forced by circumstances to do something which was detestable to say the least? And you had to keep on doing the same, inspite of your protestations, inspite of your severe dislike for the task. And you had to do it week after week, month after month, year after year. And yet, strangely enough, as time passed the task became more bearable, and inspite of yourself, you find yourself actually liking the job! Though, you would rather give an arm and a leg, than admit as much!

Well.....it has happened to me.

It happened to me at the tender age of 5 or maybe it was 6. My father decided that I was old enough to accompany him to the local market, for the weekly purchase of vegetables and fish (Bengali family, right?).  This ritual would happen every Sunday, which according to him would help me learn an important element of household work, and also build my character!

 Now, for kids growing up in the pre-cable TV era, Sunday morning was the most looked forward to time in the entire week, for TV viewing. And my favourite was “The Famous Five” which used to start at 9 a.m. and of course, as fate would have it, I used to miss the serial every time. Boy, did I hate my dad for ‘conspiring’ to make me miss my favourite serial. And no amount of tantrums, pleading, cajoling would move my father, or convince him to my point of view- that it was more important that I watch “The Famous Five” than go to the market!

And for anyone who has not had the misfortune to visit any fish market in Calcutta, to parody the iphone ad.... if you haven’t seen a Calcutta fish market, well....you haven’t seen a fish market!

No one has ever accused our markets to be clean, dry hygienic places and add to that a dash of monsoon, and you have a health hazard! Now, I have nothing against the rain or rainy season, but, call me un-romantic if you will, but getting wet wet wet with 2 heavy bags in two hands and an umbrella wedged between your neck and shoulder in a place where “mud is all around”....well, it’s not my recipe for a perfect start to Sunday morning!

Then there was the daily haggling over the price, for everything ranging from fish to figs!! A typical session would go like this:

Dad: How much for the rohu?

Fish-Seller: Babu, Rs.35 per kilo

Dad:  Thats extortion, max I will pay is Rs.30...

Fish-Seller: Babu that does not even cover my cost... Just for you, i will sell at no profit...Rs.33 only!

Dad: Rs.32 and not a paise more

And so on and so forth.....till a mid point was reached and the sale closed....

And of course, the sights and sounds and overbearing smells of a local market may put most people off food for weeks. But, after years of exposure, one kinda gets used to it, and it would not be too much to say, it even grows onto you.

And if you are in a place teeming with people, you get to meet with people (by that I mean the vendors) who, on the face of it, are quite run-of-the-mill, but prod a little, and their character leaves an indelible mark on you.

Take, Mr. A. He sells onions, potatoes, ginger and garlic. He used to work in a mill, which closed down. This forced him to become a vegetable vendor. It was a herculean struggle for him, to make the mental & physical adjustment to adapt in a totally different work environment. But, he persevered. Month after month. Year after year. I cannot imagine the quantum of mental toughness Mr. A would have needed to wake up every morning and go to the market to open the shop.. But, all through this struggle, he remained focussed in giving a proper education to his son, who presently is an ASM in a MNC pharma company. Every year he visits his son in Indore, and I am happy to say, he travels by air nowadays. He still sits in the shop, and my guess is, enjoys it too!

Or the elderly Mr. B. He migrated to Calcutta from Bangladesh in the early seventies, penniless and homeless. He settled down with his family of 6 in one of the slums for migrants. He bought the shop in the late seventies, with whatever savings he could manage. Every day, he would start from his home at 3:30 a.m. to go to the wholesale market and from there to his shop. If I recall correctly, he has 5 sons. While the father probably never had formal schooling in his life, 2 of his sons are engineers with good jobs. His sons built a 3 storied house, in which the entire family stays today. I learnt a thing or 2 about quality consciousness from Mr. B. Many a Sunday, he would not set shop, for the simple reason, that he did not get the best quality fish from the wholesale market. No wonder, he would always run out of all his stock within couple of hours of setting shop...Mr. B sold off his shop couple of years back, as he was too old to carry on....

But, my favourite was Md. Nissar, or Nissar Kaku (uncle), as I would call him.  Like thousands other, he had migrated from some small town in Bihar to Calcutta, in search of a living. He did not have his own shop in the market, and was one of the many illegal vendors setting up shop on the footpath outside the market, selling fruits. Of course, he was a favourite with the shoppers, because of his cheerful demeanour and for the fact that he never compromised on quality. And I was his favourite. If it was diwali round the corner, he would actually buy fireworks and crackers for me...If for some reason, I went to the market alone, and was struggling with the load of the bags, he would help carry them across the road, and help me get onto the bus.

He had 2 sons, and not wanting a life similar to his, he put them in a reputed convent school, which was beyond his means. But, the tragedy of it all was, his sons were not interested in studies. They would bunk classes and spend all their time playing. This would make Nissar very upset, and he would express his helplessness at not being able make his sons understand the importance of education. I wish I could say that Nissar’s struggle had a happy result. I wish I could say that Nissar’s economic and social condition improved. I cannot. I don’t remember the year, when the police temporarily intensified their action against illegal roadside vendors. And, just like that, one fine day, Nissar stopped coming to the market. Maybe, he did not pay the local policeman enough bribe to allow him to stay put. Maybe, he found a better location in another market. Maybe, he just decided to call it quits, and went back to his native town. I never found out...

But, then again, is that not true for life in general also. You meet people, for 2 weeks or 2 months or maybe 2 decades, you grow close to them, enjoy their company and feel this would continue forever. But, with time they move their own different way, as destiny deems right. But, they leave their mark, which time cannot rub away completely.....

Now, has that never happened to you?



photo source: http://indiatoday.intoday.in/

Déjà Vu

Oh, don’t worry I am sure I am going to fail.....the exams are 2 days away....and I don’t remember ANYTHING! ....thank god, I won’t need to show my face to those people again....

Alter Ego??? No no I have not read that topic yet....now the conversation turned technical...oh well yes I have checked the definition of leadership......rest all...I guess they are co-workers....oh god....you have studied so much....I am sure I wont remember anything.....at least you used to take notes in class....I have not done anything.......you have memorised definitions of all 16 types!!! I cannot even remember the names of the types of behaviours!!!

Journal? What journal? Oh god...i have not written the journal down too....god only knows what’s gonna happen.....

And thus continued the conversation......

Just another teenager on the phone talking to his/her friend on the phone on the night before the exam? Probably such conversations take place across the world every time an exam is round the corner .

But, what made this conversation unique was the fact that it was between two ladies in their fifties and sixties!!!

Ok...I hate to admit it...but one half of the conversation was contributed by none other than Know-all’s Mom!

Taking into consideration the fact that my mom will never see sixty in this life again, you can imagine my amusement! It was as if the years of agony over school and college exams were floating in front of my eyes!

Déjà vu indeed.

To enlighten the readers, Know-All's mom, after her retirement had started taking some courses in training. This was the day before her exam in her institute.

The fact that, I had very reliable sources telling me that she was one of the best students in her class, and the fact that her teachers thought very highly of her analytical and presentation skills, did not matter....

After all, it was exam time!

So, is it really such a terror? Why is it that the very thought of any form of evaluation or examination strikes terror in the heart of most people...whether six or sixty-two!

I still remember the effect my tenth standard exams had on my family. As any Indian will confirm, for every literate and educated (I consider the two words to convey different meanings) Indian, the tenth standard exams are the first big ticket examination of her or his life. Partly because, it’s the first exam, in which the question papers are set by people who are not your school’s teachers, whom you know personally. Moreover, the people in charge of the education board in their sadistic wisdom decided to make it even more terrifying by having external centres for the exams. This meant, all students had to travel to another school for the first time in their life. At least, for my friends it was the first time.

And to add the proverbial twist in the tale, we had the cricket world cup bang in the middle of my tenth exams. And to add insult to injury, India kept on doing well in the tournament, and they set up the mother of all battles against Pakistan in Bangalore for a place in the semi finals. Of course, we had the science exam they day after. And of course, all our discussions were on formulating strategies to be able to watch the day-night match. The exams were the last of our worries!

I still remember, Mrs. Kutty, our English teacher, telling us, “Don’t worry, and watch the match. You will do well in your exams.”

I could not resist replying, “I agree madam. After all, even if we fail in the science exam, we will get another chance to take test, but there will be no second chance to watch the match”. This was in an era when Tata Sky and TV recordings were still 15 years away...

Of course, Jadeja took Waqar to the cleaners by hitting 40 runs in 22 balls, and India had a great win. For the record, I did pass my exam the next day and did not do too badly.

Then there were the side-acts which made this blog possible. I remember reaching the examination centre and finding my friends huddled together and going through last minute notes. However, one of my friends, Hrushikesh seemed unusually quiet and glum. On some probing, out came the truth. He had got the schedule mixed up, and come to take the science exam, prepared for the mathematics exam!  Of course, he came out with flying colours in the exam in spite of the mix-up.

The twelfth standard exams were much more serious for me. I was specifically petrified of physics and could not stop fretting before the practical exams. Finally, my friend, Sudip snapped,”Will you please stop this nonsense. Now, you are freaking ME out!”

Getting that from the best student in physics was no mean achievement!

Of course, i did not stop my antics there. During the viva the teacher asked, “Is LED a diode? “

“Huh?? LED? Ummmm..let me see...I guess....”

The teacher snapped, “What’s the full form of LED?”                              

“I know that. It’s...ummm....light emitting diode”

“So, is it a diode?”

“Yes yes...it’s a diode”

Looking back, I laugh at my antics...but believe me, in the hall, I was sweating...and not just because of the humidity.

Let’s fast forward to the present generation. Take the example of my next door neighbours. Their son is in the 9^th standard. Often I meet the son at the apartment gate on my way to office while he waits for his car pool alone.

But, couple of days back I find that both his parents are waiting with him at the gate to see him off. Why? Because his exams had started...

Getting back to my mom’s exam. The day of the exam came and I was of course having the critical task of driving her down to the centre, and ensure that she reached ON TIME. And I know better than to mess up my mom’s schedule!

All through the drive, she kept glued to her notes, and kept flipping the pages, and kept repeating periodically...”I cannot remember anything. I will surely fail.” I could not help but thinking that she was behaving just like any other college going student before an exam. But, another part was admiring the fact that she was facing an exam after probably more than 4 decades!

But, that brings me to the question which is today a BIG debating point. Do these high pressure exams make sense? Do they really prepare today’s kids for tomorrow’s battles? Or is it that the fatigue of exams takes a severe psychological toll, from which many can never recover?

I don’t really have answers. But, let me give some food for thought.

Every professional will agree that that every time you enter a review meet with your boss; it is nothing short of an exam. And in this exam, the answers are not always very easy to find or provide. And in many cases, the right answers may not be provided!

Or, as any one working in a bank will agree, every time there is an audit, it’s nothing short of an exam paper on integral calculus, mistakenly given to a student of Arts!

So, it’s a scenario which is far more challenging and pressure cooker like, than any school-leaving or college exam. And similar situations may occur in your personal life too, with your wife, your kids and your parents.

Maybe the years of examinations day in and day out are meant to prepare us better, to face the daily examination called LIFE.

Story of An Ordinary Indian Doctor- Dr. Nasser

Being a salesman has its rewards. The one which I treasure the most is perhaps the opportunity it provides to meet with people from varied walks of life during my visits to the various retail showrooms in Calcutta. Everyday, I keep meeting artists who want a smart looking phone, professors from USA holidaying in India, doctors in search of a high speed internet connection, army men enquiring if they can use the phone in Kashmir, rickshaw pullers wanting a low tariff recharge, foreigners asking for directions to the Victoria memorial, bus drivers wondering why their phone is not ringing, employees of foreign embassies requesting for service engineers who can speak proper English...the list goes on...and on...

I met Dr. Nasser, during one such visit to one of our showrooms. He wanted an internet connection for his laptop. We chatted while the transaction was being completed. I came to know that he worked in a well known city hospital. The conversation ended there.

Next time we met was few months later. It was in the same showroom where we had met the first time. He had come to pay his monthly phone bill.

We started chatting about the weather, literally, and before we knew it, he was telling me about his life...

Nasser is the youngest of 2 brothers and 2 sisters. A Kashmiri Muslim by birth, he grew up in the beautiful city of Srinagar. His father was a civil servant in the state government and mother a housewife. His elder brother is a Chartered Accountant. When he wanted to pursue medicine as a profession, his father was against the idea. He wanted his son to become a civil servant. But, sons seldom listen to their fathers, and Nasser completed his MBBS from Government Medical College, Srinagar. He followed this up with a master’s degree in Lucknow, before landing up in Calcutta to pursue his super-specialty course from a well known hospital.

Probably, there is not much to write about Nasser, which is unique enough. But, then again, I found his thoughts reflecting that of many young people including yours truly.

He still wonders whether he took the right decision to stay back in India. One would say, it’s the right decision to stay put give back to your country. But, consider this. Of the 8 friends in his batch who completed their MBBS, 6 went abroad and decided to settle down in the US. This made Nasser wonder if he was doing something stupid, considering majority of his peers were following a different path.

“I know, I will be earning a lot less than what I could have, if I had shifted to the US. But, then again, some of my teachers who inspired me have done just that. They are not just good, but great doctors and are world renowned. But, they have resisted the temptation, and decided to give back to society despite the various challenges”, says Nasser.

“I know, I may be a small fry in the larger scheme of things, but I am confident I can definitely make a difference, howsoever miniscule. Which is why, after completion of my studies, I want to go back to Kashmir, and practice there. I feel, I can make a bigger difference there considering the lack of facilities in the state.”

I asked in return, “Don’t you think that the environment abroad is more conducive to pursue your practice? Will it not provide a much better learning environment? Which in turn, will help you become a much better doctor?”

Nasser replied,” You see, the foreign hospitals definitely have far better facilities and they do provide much better work environment. But, the Indian system teaches you to become street smart, in a way which no first world country can. There is a very good reason for this.  Let’s assume you have high fever with certain x, y and z symptoms. In an US hospital, usually the doctor will have a set of tests conducted which will give very accurate results, and assist in good diagnosis and subsequent treatment. This is the way they are trained. But, in India, our teachers have taught us to approach it in a different way. For the same patient described before, our teachers would ask us, out of these 5 tests, which do you think is the most appropriate for a patient with x, y and z symptoms? ”

According to Nasser, there is a very good reason for this approach. In the west, most of the developed nations are welfare states. Hence, medical expenses are in majority of cases taken care of, by the state. So, conducting plethora of tests to get to the root of the problem is not a cause for concern, for the patient. But, in India, in most cases, the patient’s family would need to shell out the money for all the tests. In most cases, that would be a big burden on the pocket. So, the doctor has to go for the most effective and least expensive path. For an Indian doctor, learning to be street smart, is not just smart, but a matter of life or death.

This logic of Nasser was further corroborated by another friend of mine; Dr. Sajid. Sajid is a surgeon, who has many patients from the lower strata of the society. He told me the story of Iqbal.

Iqbal is a rickshaw-puller in his mid-forties. He has a wife and 2 kids at home. He visited Dr.Sajid with severe lower back pain. For a proper diagnosis and accurate treatment, an MRI was essential. But, an MRI would cost few thousand rupees. And Sajid’s experience told him, that a surgery was required, to treat the problem. That would cost more money and a period of complete bed rest. But, Iqbal is a daily wage earner and if he stays away from work, his family starves. So, what does the doctor do in such a situation, where the best option is not practical for the patient?

Dr. Sajid advised Iqbal to ride his rickshaw maintaining a certain posture which would minimise the damage. He also advised Iqbal to regularly exercise to strengthen the area.

Was it the best possible treatment? Definitely not. But, for doctors like Nasser and Sajid, it’s all about providing the “best fit” treatment.

And it’s because of doctors like Nasser and Sajid, the Indian medical system manages to carry the burden of over 1 billion people.


Note: Names have been changed to protect privacy

Feroze Shah Kotla- Delhi's 5th Innings

“Why don’t you go visit Feroze Shah Kotla?” Bill asked me.

“Feroze Shah Kotla? The well known cricket stadium? But, isn’t the cricket series between India and England over?” I wondered. I was visiting Bill and Kay in Gurgaon during Diwali, in what has now become an annual ritual for last 5 years. This year had been no exception, and I was in town during the designated week, end of October.

It was the Friday after Diwali and both Kay and Bill had office, which meant I was left home alone. That’s what prompted Bill to propose the trip to Feroze Shah Kotla(FSK), and made me wonder, why on earth I should be visiting an empty stadium!

Bill explained patiently, “No, Mr. Nincompoop! I don’t want you to visit the stadium. Feroze Shah Kotla happens to be the ruins of what once was Feroze Shah Tughlaq’s palace”. “The stadium” Bill continued, “happens to be so named, because it was built adjacent to the Kotla. Incidentally, Kotla means House, ergo; Feroze Shah Kotla is House of Feroze Shah. The place is not crowded, and has loads of opportunities for good photography. You will enjoy it.”

For a salesman, last week of the month is the worst time to be on leave. And the 25^th floor is not the best place to make phone calls. So, I decided to descend down to earth, spent couple of hours on the phone, all the time, walking while talking! By the time I had finished, it was around 2 pm and I took a rickshaw to Huda City Centre Metro Station and from there a train to Rajiv Chowk. An auto ride of around 15 minutes, and I was in front of Feroze Shah Tughlaq’s palace.

Feroze Shah Tughlaq was the 3^rd ruler of the Tughlaq dynasty (1320-1414 AD), who succeeded his more famous cousin, the genius whose ideas were ahead of his time- Muhammad Bin Tughlaq. He established the city of Ferozabad, 5^th city of Delhi, in the year 1354 AD. The Feroze Shah Kotla happens to be the core of the city ferozabad, and was established as an imperial capital. According to historian Shams Siraj Afif, Ferozabad was an extensive city, extending from the hunting lodge on the northern ridge, established by Feroze Shah, today known as Pir Ghaib, and to the south, till Purana Qila or Old Fort. The city was quite populous and probably had population of around 150,000.

Also known as Kushk-I-Firuz, Feroze Shah Kotla, as per various chroniclers including the great invader Timur, was a grand and opulent royal citadel of Ferozabad. However, none of the costly stones and gilded and painted features, as described them, exist today. Today, what remains are only ruins of this once grand architectural splendor. As the saying goes, what goes around comes around. In later centuries, building material for construction was plundered from Ferozabad for the construction of cities like Din Panah, Shergarh and Shahjahanabad. It’s ironic, because construction material for Ferozabad had been sourced by plundering the older cities of Siri, Jahanpanah and Lal Kot!*

As I reached the gates of the Kotla, I realized something which is consistent for all monuments maintained by the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI). Firstly, that they know their job when it comes to maintaining the priceless monuments. And secondly, that they are either absolutely ignorant about how to promote these places, or extremely shy about it! You see, the FSK main gate is a good 100 meters from the main road. And there is nothing except a small board which is almost hidden by overgrown shrubs and leaves of trees, to make people aware of the place. It’s as if ASI actively wants to dissuade people from visiting the place. Thankfully, I was forewarned by Bill about this, and had no problems in finding the place.

After buying a ticket worth Rs.5, which incidentally, a foreigner would require to pay Rs.100 (is that not racism, by the way?) I was finally inside FSK!

The place has 4 parts- the palace ruins on the right, a Baoli, the pyramidal structure which supports a huge Ashokan pillar and the ruins of the majestic Jami Masjid.

I decided to start with the palace ruins.  The palace ruins have 2 parts- the Diwan-i-aam or the Palace of Commons and the Diwan-i-Khas or the Palace or Courtiers and counselors. The former was used by the king to hold court for the general public. The latter was used for nobles, courtiers and other men of importance. Not much remains today of what must have once been grand structures, and contained by the 15 meter high citadel walls. Modern residential buildings overlook the walls and have encroached right till the edge of the walls.

The Diwan-i-khas had even less to offer. Today it is just a large open space, which sadly, I found badly littered with papers and thermocol. There is a huge tree in the middle of this, which was visually very striking. After spending some quiet time, I decided to move towards the Jaami Masjid.

The Jami Masjid was the largest mosque before Jama Masjid was built. Today only the remains of the congregational mosque stand. The doorway was once decorated with carved stones, which have since been plundered. In the middle of the courtyard, used to stand a domed structure which had the works and achievements of the Emperor inscribed. The mosque was built on a series of underground cells made of quartzite stone and covered with lime plaster. Timur was so impressed by the grandeur of the mosque, that he apparently had a similar mosque made in his capital, Samarqand, using craftsmen taken from India.*

It was Friday evening, and I was just in time for the evening namaaz. There were many families who had either come for the evening namaaz or just for an outing. Outside the masjid, I saw men performing wazu(act of cleansing one's limbs and face before namaz) in front of few plastic water tanks, placed just for this purpose. Climbing up the steps, I suddenly came to a huge open courtyard. Men and women were scattered around, chatting in small groups. I was standing there quietly, unsure of what I wanted to do next. Suddenly, a small boy, not more than ten years old, walked over to me. He had a black polythene bag with him. He took out something from the bag, and offered to me, saying, “Uncle, Yeh aapke liye.” It was a jalebi. I was touched by the gesture. Knowing from past experience, that kids love being photographed, I offered,”Ao, main tumhara ek photo kheech du.” The boy was polite but firm,”Nahin, nahin, mujhe photo nahin kheechna”. Respecting his right to privacy, I withdrew.

My next destination was the pyramidal structure, adjacent to the masjid, supporting the huge Ashokan pillar.

The Pyramidal structure was specially commissioned by Feroze Shah, to support the 13 metres high Ashokan Pillar, with a diameter of 65 cm at the top and 97 cm at the bottom. The pillar had been originally set up at a place named Topra, near Ambala by the Maurya king Ashoka, with inscriptions of his principles of governance. To transport the 27 tonne pillar, Feroze Shah had the pillar wrapped with cotton silk and laid on a bed of reed made of raw silk and transported in a massive carriage with 42 wheels and drawn by 200 men!*

 I could see that many men and women were on top of the pyramidal building but apparently all the gates were locked. Then, an elderly lady showed that one of the grills of the gate was broken and that was the only way in! I wriggled inside and officially became a trespasser in the eyes of ASI!

The steps, as in all historical buildings, were very steep. But, once you reach the top, the view will take your breath away.  I was just in time to a get a bird’s view of the namaz at the adjacent jami masjid. I managed to get some wonderful shots. The stadium and modern roads in the background provided a stark contrast to this ancient but grand structure.

Next up was the Baoli (well) about which Bill had spoken as a must watch. Sadly, this place was also under lock and no broken grills materialized for my convenience, through which I wriggle through!

The Baoli or well was a source of water for the citadel. Unlike more common step wells this does not have steps leading to the level of water. The circular well, open well, has provision for water to be pulled up by a pulley. A complex system of pipes and channels pumped the water to the roof and from there to the outside.*

As I was cursing my luck at not being able to get inside the baoli, and clicking photos from the outside, suddenly a voice called from behind, “Hello, yahaan photo lena mana hai”. I ignored the voice and kept on shooting. The voice kept on repeating the same thing,”Yahan photo lena mana hai, photo mat lo”. Finally, the same voice said, “Uncle, humara ek photo kheech dijiye please!” I turned around to find a small boy of around ten or eleven and a girl of around thirteen or fourteen. I smiled, “Zaroor, ao samne khare ho jao” The girl, who seemed to be his elder sister, shied away. This made the boy hesitant. I reassured, “Koi baat nahin, tum to aa jao. Tumhara photo lete hain”. Reassured, he posed stiffly as if ready to sing the national anthem. I said, “Arre thoda haso to sahi. Achcha batao tum kaun se class me padte ho?”

He gave a wonderful smile and replied,”Class 6D”. I smiled inside at his innocence. I said my good byes to the kids and started walking in the surrounding lawns, with the chirping of the birds returning to their homes, providing company. I was lost in thoughts when suddenly my mobile phone rang. It was Kay.

“Where are you? Still at the Kotla? There is a problem. You have one set of keys and Bill has the other. I am unable to get back home. Get back home as fast as possible”

I turned my back to Feroze Shah’s Kotla and started walking towards the exit.

*Source: Archaeological Survey of India

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The History of Democracy- Is Anna a Manna from Heaven?

Someone recently joked that, Santa Singh & Banta Singh are on the verge of committing suicide. Why?? Because Manmohan Singh & Anna Hazare have replaced them as the most joked about people in last few weeks!

By now there will not be too many middle class Indians in the world who have not heard about Anna Hazare or the Lokpal bill. As is the wont of the middle class (I am one of them), most have some opinion or the other about the issue. But, I would not bet my salary on how many of them actually know in detail about the issues involved.
What’s my opinion on the issue? I feel the Lokpal bill questions the form of rule which the constitution framers of India had decided, in all their wisdom, for the country- Representative Democracy.

So, is it really is the most suitable form of governance for a country of over 1 billion, or for that matter any country?

Apparently, democracy is not such a new concept after all. Some concepts of democracy have been followed in Ancient Athens way back around 500 B.C. These folks had a form of democracy, in which every citizen voted for himself for every bill or legislation. It’s called Direct Democracy. It was not really such a cumbersome idea back then, considering population in these city states was few hundred thousand at most, and women, children, slaves and foreigners were not considered part of the voting citizenry. So, most of these city states had just a few thousand voting citizens. In Sparta for instance, only men above the age of 30 were considered as citizens with voting rights.

Ancient Rome was also another follower of democracy. What is interesting to note is that even in those times, corruption was rampant and senators resorting to bribes to influence the results was commonplace. This, in the great Roman Empire, and not in a third world country like India. Apparently, even the great Julius Caesar was not above resorting to the not so noble means of bribery! I guess some habits are too old to eradicate. Of course, once Caesar’s powers became absolute, he reduced the powers of the republic and became a dictator, which may have been the cause of his increasing unpopularity amongst the Roman aristocracy and eventual assassination.
Over the ages, there seems to be a propensity amongst human beings for the democratic form of governance. Their success in different parts of the world in different ages may have been to varying degrees. But, there has been no lack of attempt.

Be it the Aztecs in Central America electing a supreme speaker, the Althing or parliament of Iceland founded in 930 AD, the Sejm in Poland or the election of Gopala, the founder of the Pala dynasty in Bengal in 8th century AD, democracy has been practiced since a pretty long time.

And though the tenure of democracy may be pretty long and illustrious, even longer has been the existence of corruption. In fact, one can safely say that as long as there has been civilization, corruption has been its steady companion.
But, there is nothing to suggest that democracy has done any harm to the cause of human rights. In fact, in contemporary times, the eastern European countries, which were part of the Eastern Bloc or satellites of the former Soviet Union, have all embraced democratic parliamentary elections post USSR collapse and seen improved human rights and improved social and economic standards. Be it Poland under Lech Walesa, Romania under Ion Iliescu or Bulgaria under Zhelyu Zhelev, most of the eastern bloc countries saw improved economic conditions post democracy in the early nineties. Needless to say, with varying degrees of success. But, the improvements did not come overnight and some of these countries faced severe economic and social problems initially before tasting success.
So, is it a good idea to tamper with the democratic system of governance? I say no. The solution for corruption cannot be a Lokpal in which few people will pass judgement on who is corrupt and who is not. And who is to monitor whether the decisions of the Lokpal have not been influenced by factors other than yearning for justice?
If we really want to make the country less corrupt, the search has to be inward rather than outward. There are enough existing agencies to check corruption in India. The challenge is to ensure that the people in charge are honest in discharging their duties rather than creating another new agency. Will the people manning the Lokpal be from another country or planet, who are immune to or unaware of the concepts of external pulls and pressures and temptations? I have my doubts.

Anna Hazare, to my mind, has been able to create a vent for the pent up frustration in the people of India. As on date, that seems to be the only achievement from the drama which unfolded last few weeks. Of course, it’s very important to find release to pent up emotions, else they can explode and cause serious damage.

But, as someone commented, it’s not as if corruption did not exist earlier in India or that its quantum was less. It’s only with the increased media presence and scrutiny, their exposure has increased. Is it a good thing? I am not qualified enough to comment. But, free speech, one of the perks of democracy, which allowed Hazare, in the first place to get the publicity in last few weeks and months, may be threatened, if absolute power is given to a bunch of people, not answerable to the people of India.

Some of the salient points of the Lokpal bill which I find impractical to implement:
1. Will have power to initiate action or receive complaints of corruption from public- How does Lokpal plan to tackle the flood of complaints and subsequent delay in meting out judgement and punishment? Will it not be a repetition of the Indian Judiciary?

2. Will have power to initiate prosecution of guilty- Again issues of sufficient manpower. How does Lokpal guarantee corruption free judgement? And what role does the existing Judiciary system have in such a scenario?

3. Will have police powers and ability to register FIRs- If Lokpal has police powers, they would need to investigate cases. Will they have sufficient manpower or expertise to carry out the same? Will it not make the existing police force redundant?

Instead of creating another body, is it not a better idea to try and reform the existing systems?

• Why not make the enforcement agencies, like the CBI and police independent like the Election Commission, free of political pulls and pressures? Hazare can fight and increase awareness so that these bodies are not answerable to political masters.

• The biggest challenge to the Indian Judiciary is the sheer number of pending cases in the courts. Why not show some political will and open more courts, employ more people, increase automation and get rid of archaic systems. I am sure, this is easier said than done, but, isn’t it better than creating a parallel judiciary?

Tell me what you think...thank god (I mean democracy) for free speech!