The IAS and the Military.

         Bai Goanna said “one of you should have joined the IAS”, rolling her eyes at Shri Husband, but addressing me. “Then instead of budgeting and bussing to places, you’d be buying homes in Palampur/Manipur/Coorg, maybe even employing a pilot so that you don’t have to take the trouble to fly your own aircraft.”

         Shri Husband: “Don’t be silly, those officers are salaried employees of the Government, no different from many others.”

         “Naïve,” said Bai Goanna. “Very. Had you been a babu, and posted in Chennai at this time, you’d have earned multiple times what all your ancestors put together have over generations.”

         “We come from honest stock,” declared Shri Husband.

         “Nothing to be proud of,” believed Bai Goanna. “Misfits you are.”

         I brought the topic back on-track: “Why Chennai?”

         Bai Goanna: “Remember the Uttarakhand-Kedarnath floods? Thousands died. Rs 5 biscuit packets were sold at Rs 200 and bottles of water at Rs 100 each. Saddened at the apathy and greed of the locals trying the best to make most of the tragedy, the bureaucrats comforted themselves at Narayankoti, a few kilometres away from Guptkashi, with butter chicken and rasgulla. The Rudraprayag district administration shelled out Rs 25.19 lakh for towards their food and accommodation.”

         “How,” asked Shri Husband suspiciously, “do you know this?”

         Bai Goanna read from a file of cuttings she’d carried along: “… revealed from a reply to an RTI query filed by Dehradun-based activist Bhupendra Kumar.” 

She added, “While the Army- Air Force rescue operations were going on, the babus were happy to play routine roles.”

Shri Husband contemplated: “Any heads rolled?”

Bai Goanna: “No bureaucratic head rolls because s/he gave bribed permission to build in low-lying areas, flouting all sense of town-planning and ecologically correct rules. Won’t happen in Chennai also. Lots of money-making opportunity there now.”

Shri Husband, being fair: “Some babus do brilliant jobs.”

Bai Goanna: “Exceptions prove the rule. The clever ones master the art of misuse of disaster-funds. One Uttarakhand official submitted a bill of Rs 194 for half-a-litre of milk. In Chamoli, diesel bills were submitted for use of four-wheelers. The vehicle-numbers mentioned in the bill were petrol-run two-wheelers.” 

Shri Husband shook his head.

Bai Goanna carried on: “In Gopeshwar, from a particular shop, some officials bought 1,800 raincoats per day, for three consecutive days. How did a shop stock so many? Who collected/distributed them?”  

Shri Husband remarked, “The Defence guys do their jobs irrespective of payments/irregularities.”

“There are Defence guys who line their pockets, too,” said Bai Goanna.

“Exceptions prove the rule,” retorted Shri Husband, mimicking her. “The stranded and rescued believe the Indian Armed Forces are gods in uniform.  Not without reason; they win battles in spite of the substandard equipment supplied to them, rescue children who fall into unsafe wells, control crowds in NaMo’s own state when the cops and paramilitaries can’t. There are IAS chaps who lead from the front, though rarely.”

Bai Goanna commented: “Not surprised that the Army-Navy-Air Force was called out in Chennai. No bureaucrat will be held responsible for anything at all.”

I granted: “The babus live well on the commissions they get. Rarely heard of a Court punishing them for wrong-doing. Remember the chaos in Srinagar last year? Result of another babu-neta-thekedar nexus?”

          Shri Husband said: “Global warming makes floods happen.”

Bai Goanna interjected: “Global warming isn’t responsible for the chaotic condition of city planning. The IAS would control the weather if it could get money to do so. It – the IAS, not the weather---needs to be held accountable/responsible.”

         I thought to myself: “Why do these soldiers do these rescues when the government is treating them so shabbily over the One Rank One Pension?”
         As if reading my mind, Shri Husband said: “They have a sense of izzat, a sense of duty, money be damned. But there will come a time – and soon-- when they may do just what is told to them and not go out of their way as they’re doing now. They might ask questions like why aren’t those who are paid to do disaster relief and handle law and order situations doing their jobs. The world agrees that our faujis are the best in the world. And we ourselves can confidently vote our babudom the worst.”
         I read in a newspaper that the Raksha Mantri had said “Let the veterans prove that their agitation is not political,” whilst talking about the OROP.  

“If he’s really said that,” Bai Goanna said, “the one institution that so far hasn’t bothered about the religion/region/political affiliation of those it serves/saves, of which India is justifiably proud, will no longer be the same. They’ve waited for four decades for this right to be granted. Now they’re told that the Government “is losing patience” with their agitation. Shame. Politicians come and go. It’s the bureaucracy that holds the reins permanently.”

“True,” I said, “true. They say the IAS is the steel framework of our government.”

“Rusty, cracked and pitted,” said Shri Husband pithily. “Needs to be transfused with lots of clean, fresh blood for it to recover from decades of sloth and corruption.”

“Told you,” said Bai Goanna thinking she’d have the last word this time. “One of you should have joined the IAS.”

“Can’t,” said Shri Husband as usual having his say before walking out. “We’re overage.”

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