That the cosmopolitan commoner considers combating corruption as the need of the day was confirmed by the celebration across capitals of AAP's electoral reap. While this does reassure you of the societal ethos still holding venality a vice, you cannot but wonder if we would be satisfied with an administrative agency that was financially upright yet inherently inept in fulfilling its brief. I may be well off the mark with this presumption, but would most of us mind tipping someone who tips his hat after he has delivered on his promise, or paying upfront a person who is proven to make good his pledge of being the bridge to the forces who can beam you into the promised land?
My presumption isn't born solely of the accounts of the interaction between the hapless layman and the esteemed official, who is ironically called a public servant.
In fact, tucking in a note for tea into the hands of the delivery guy who brings the gas cylinder to your doorstep, or that of the municipality-paid sweeper for taking away the snipped shrubbery from your bedecked garden, is a flattering assertion of your position well up the social and economic ladder. Recently, my landlady in Bangalore had a street cleaner take away those blessings of the coconut tree that she had no use for - the pinnate leaves and the coconut husks. The cleaner could, of course, use it as fuel for her make-shift stove. Having thus been a benefactor already, my landlady chose to stretch her generosity a tad further by handing the cleaner a five rupee coin - something that would be independently useful to her only if she was a smoker. When the latter looked askance, having received the paltry tip, my landlady, visibly annoyed by the affront to her benevolent self, admonished her about reconciling with and finding joy in what had come one's way. The enlightened cleaner returned the coin saying that my elderly landlady would probably need it more for the upkeep of her health, and walked away in a huff. Unperturbed, my landlady continues to spare the small sub-ten-rupee change to the flower-seller and the vegetable vendor who scale two flights of stairs to give her the flowers and vegetables she needs.
The tip of the trade is nowhere as tacit than in the temples. If you are stood in line, empty-handed, hoping to grab as much of the grace as the Lord may be willing to part with, do not be surprised if the priest spots the miser in you who is responsible for all your misery. Being Karmically unqualified to worship the Lord by yourself, any amount you part with is paltry and insignificant vis-a-vis the well-meaning priest's merciful advocacy on your behalf - an advocacy that has been ratified as being fruitful by generations of devotees who have likely avoided rebirth! And what tangible forms of the deity's grace might come to you is determined by the denomination of the currency peeking out of your palm.
There are other temples, too, where the priests are not as interested in your riches, because there are designated ushers to monitor the line of devotees. Handing a few notes can, of course, help you duck under the rope separating the incoming stream of desire from the outgoing stream of disappointment, and have another glimpse of the Lord. There are the scrupulous ones in that brigade of voluntary devotee-herds, too, and, ethically enough, they will not pocket the cash if they can't turn you around for one more rendezvous.
These temples also support touts who can help you jump the queue if you can trade your money for your time. These touts, again, only charge you once you've had a glimpse of the Lord and have been given one laddu, at the very least, more than the others. They even have variable rates, much like the taxation slabs. Most importantly, they never levy fees for efforts that are unsuccessful. Unlike the officials, the rating points for reputation have a direct impact on the income of these touts, keeping them moral, if not categorically, at least consequentially.
I have a feeling that much of this clamor about corruption would collapse if our public servants could adopt the code from the temples. Government's work, after all, is God's work! We, the citizenry are neither reluctant to be grateful in cash or kind, nor parsimonious in rewarding efforts that ease our lives. All we want is to not be fleeced and not be looted. The haves must, all said and done, share with the have-nots. And we would never want to be counted among the latter, would we?
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