What is it about our bureaucrats and their babudom that everyone loves them like they love a pimple on their noses? I can’t think of a single person who hasn’t had an endearing experience with one of them. Even my father who spent his career as a civil servant, and who used to scold me for criticising his tribe, said maybe I had a point. His great eyeopener was when in his late 70s and well into retirement, he tried to return a train ticket after the train had been cancelled. He was highly diabetic and his hand used to shake; so filling the form wasn’t easy. He asked the clerk at the counter to help him fill it. There were only five entries to be made but the clerk refused, saying it wasn’t his job. My mother gave the man 20 rupees and he filled it out double quick.
Over the years the power that a bureaucrat has to say no or delay saying yes has been compounded by ignorance and incompetence. Now the babus, never mind their level, say no not only so that they can extort money but also because they don’t know what to do with an application. My wife had this experience a few months ago when she was trying to change her email address that she had given for a bank account 27 years ago. Her ordeal started in March and it’s still not over. The bank babudom had no idea what to do and kept on asking for all sorts of documentation because of the need to cover up ignorance and incompetence. They kept citing rules that no one has either ever made, or heard of, till then. And mind you this is not a public sector bank. It’s a large private sector one. But babudom exists everywhere, to make our lives fun and worth living.
Last year a friend was told he had to pay a ₹5,000 fine for something he had not done or requested. A government crew had lopped some branches from a tree in front of his house on a complaint from a neighbouring house. A few weeks later another group of babus from some other department issued him a showcause notice with a demand for a fine. They said he had cut the branches illegally. He refused to pay and the matter was eventually sorted out.
Yet another friend needed a completion certificate for his house. He was a bureaucrat and thought he would get it without any trouble. But after several reminders and visits he realised this wasn’t as easy as he had thought it would be. So he called a colleague for help who ordered the lower babus to hand it over. But when my friend went to collect, he was told that there were three other certificates he needed and that would level the playing field.
A few years ago, a research paper was published that showed that Indian businesses needed as many as 68,000 compliances to be made — 27,000 were required by the central government and the rest by different state governments. Each compliance is overseen by a bunch of babus, who don’t ensure that the rules are followed but take a bribe to overlook non-compliance. The government made a serious attempt to fix the problem. But the babus have struck back by inventing new rules. Where there is a will, there is always a way.
The most shameless and yet the funniest babu, however, was the one my brother encountered when he was building his house. The babu demanded a bribe for something. My brother said, no, I won’t pay, I am also an employee of the government like you. Without batting an eyelid, the babu said “ok, I will give you a 50 per cent discount!” How can we not love these fellows.