CONFESSIONS OF A
COMMON MAN
By A.V. Dhanushkodi
SEVEN -- SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
I have
often wondered why we, the common people, condone corruption. We read, almost every day, of corruption at
every level of functioning of our nation, right from the central ministers down
to the sweeper on the street, not impersonal events far removed from our lives,
but events that happen every day in our
own lives, affecting us in so many ways.
Yet, we do not take them seriously.
Possibly, either because we do not recognize them as corrupt practices
or, even if we do identify them as corruption, we brush them aside with a
casual gesture, as common occurrences.
One may call it resignation, resulting from a sense of helplessness. There may be some truth in that
interpretation but, going a step further, I would ascribe that attitude to be
rooted in an awareness, conscious or subconscious, of our own behaviour,
corrupt to a greater or lesser degree. I
do not mean monetary corruption only, I mean by the word ‘corruption’, a broad
spectrum of behaviour in every one of us---business and non-business in
nature---crossing the boundaries of legality, morality, and all norms of social
behaviour, which have evolved over centuries, meant to benefit the largest
number of people.
Being a
common man, I am caught up in an inexorable whirlpool of common chores, day in
day out, some of which are paying bills: telephone bills, taxi bills,
electricity bills, etc. I have spent
half my life of seventy-five years, standing in queues to pay such bills, in
addition to standing in queues at the ration shop, train-ticket booking
counters, and department stores’ billing counters. Mercifully, there are no queues at bus stops,
where I fight, with all my might, whatever is left of it, to be right. In fact, I have been seriously thinking of
preferring a Public Interest Litigation in the Supreme Court, to have a mandate
passed that all queues should be banned.
That would then compel every citizen to be as fit as a fiddle, bringing
into vogue the age-old Darwinian perception of the survival of the fittest, to
be able to fight one’s way to the counters, incidentally giving one the
psychological satisfaction that one is ahead of the others, at the head of
something. The collateral benefit would
then go to the physical fitness gyms, but the doctors, whether qualified or
quacks, would suffer the collateral damage.
Well, with growing terrorism world over, collateral damage in the fights
against terrorism has been four times more than the targeted lateral damage,
according to one authoritative study undertaken by those who have suffered
collateral damage.
Coming to the point, yesterday I went to the Electricity Board to pay bills. There was a queue of about seven persons at the counter of senior citizens. As I took my place at the tail end of the queue, I noticed that there were three in the queue who would, by no stretch of imagination qualify as senior citizens. I brought to their attention that the queue was for senior citizens and that they should go to the counters on the first floor to pay their bills. Fortunately for me, they did not fight with me; instead, they pretended not to know that and quietly left the queue. That still left two youngsters within the counter, friends of the employee at the counter, who was processing their bills. A senior citizen ahead of me was protesting in vain.
To add to
my woes, every senior citizen ahead of me in the queue was holding not less
than six cards, which would amount to about 36 persons ahead of me. I was admonishing them in no uncertain terms
that it was most unfair to indulge
in such proxy payments. They nodded
their heads vigorously in agreement and asked me what I would have them
do. I suggested that they pay one bill
and go to stand at the end of the queue to pay another bill and again go to the
end of the queue to pay another bill, and so on. They all agreed vociferously that it was an
excellent idea, but continued to pay multiple bills together. Further, I mildly chastised the man at the
counter for accepting more than one bill from one person at a time. He too nodded in agreement but did nothing
about it. After a while, I resigned
myself to my fate and decided to wait it out.
I heaved a
sigh of great relief when my turn came, and pushed through the counter opening,
ten bills.
A.V.
Dhanushkodi
July 5,
2011
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