For all those of you who wonder what stuff the Indian bureaucracy is made of, it would be enlightening to read Upamanyu Chatterjee’s ‘Mammaries of the Welfare State’. A bureaucrat himself, he is scathing in his observations on the huge monolithic and calcified structure that is the Indian bureaucracy.
It is difficult for you and me to fathom the mechanics of this gigantic machinery where, at the most, 5% of its gears really turn the way they should and yet, this vast country is on the verge of achieving double digit growth figures and FIIs are hauling in bagfuls of cash.
Let me give you an instance of how the bureaucratic mind works. En route to my office, which is a 16 km drive from home, is a flyover that straddles across an extremely busy railway line. About some three months ago the bridge developed a gaping hole right in the middle of the double carriageway. The mandarins, as usual, woke up late and one fine morning stopped all heavy vehicles from plying over the bridge, fencing off the offending hole, and generally ensuring all round chaos for a couple of days. The best was yet to come! An enquiry was instituted to go into the reasons as to why a newly constructed flyover should develop such an embarrassing hole. The finding was startling! The flyover it seemed had been constructed by two different agencies. While the middle portion of the flyover was constructed by one, the approach ramps to the flyover were constructed by another. The proverbial cat was let loose among the pigeons and a royal tussle ensured as to which agency was to blame and who would pick up the repair tab. The mandarins went into a huddle, summoned construction experts from a renowned institution, and came up with this stunner. The old flyover would be repaired post haste (in 2 months flat!) and a new flyover (parallel to the older one) constructed – with much better construction material!
Commoners like us were gifted a double lollipop and the gullible, like me, were sucked in – hook, line and sinker! In the midst of all this hectic public service, disaster stuck; an under-construction flyover in Hyderabad had collapsed taking with it some innocent lives. Showing an uncanny sense of speed the very next morning the entire flyover was made out of bounds and we stood staring at a mile long pileup of cars with no hope of reaching office on time.
It has been three months since and the old flyover lies desolate and forlorn with not a soul working on it. The new flyover is still a pipe dream. To cap it all the mandarins, in their wisdom, have decided to widen the roads leading up to the ‘chicken neck’ of a railway level crossing, as if the existing chaos wasn’t enough - what with the kind of driving etiquette that we all have!
But then the bureaucrats come from among us and you would marvel at our sense of driving discipline. While a majority of us are lined up in the queue, staring at the 30 minute wait… whoosh! and some cars will go sailing past us and choke the narrow level crossing. The drivers are from among us – not any illiterate idiot but an engineer or a doctor working in one of the fancy offices that dot this city.
It is difficult for you and me to fathom the mechanics of this gigantic machinery where, at the most, 5% of its gears really turn the way they should and yet, this vast country is on the verge of achieving double digit growth figures and FIIs are hauling in bagfuls of cash.
Let me give you an instance of how the bureaucratic mind works. En route to my office, which is a 16 km drive from home, is a flyover that straddles across an extremely busy railway line. About some three months ago the bridge developed a gaping hole right in the middle of the double carriageway. The mandarins, as usual, woke up late and one fine morning stopped all heavy vehicles from plying over the bridge, fencing off the offending hole, and generally ensuring all round chaos for a couple of days. The best was yet to come! An enquiry was instituted to go into the reasons as to why a newly constructed flyover should develop such an embarrassing hole. The finding was startling! The flyover it seemed had been constructed by two different agencies. While the middle portion of the flyover was constructed by one, the approach ramps to the flyover were constructed by another. The proverbial cat was let loose among the pigeons and a royal tussle ensured as to which agency was to blame and who would pick up the repair tab. The mandarins went into a huddle, summoned construction experts from a renowned institution, and came up with this stunner. The old flyover would be repaired post haste (in 2 months flat!) and a new flyover (parallel to the older one) constructed – with much better construction material!
Commoners like us were gifted a double lollipop and the gullible, like me, were sucked in – hook, line and sinker! In the midst of all this hectic public service, disaster stuck; an under-construction flyover in Hyderabad had collapsed taking with it some innocent lives. Showing an uncanny sense of speed the very next morning the entire flyover was made out of bounds and we stood staring at a mile long pileup of cars with no hope of reaching office on time.
It has been three months since and the old flyover lies desolate and forlorn with not a soul working on it. The new flyover is still a pipe dream. To cap it all the mandarins, in their wisdom, have decided to widen the roads leading up to the ‘chicken neck’ of a railway level crossing, as if the existing chaos wasn’t enough - what with the kind of driving etiquette that we all have!
But then the bureaucrats come from among us and you would marvel at our sense of driving discipline. While a majority of us are lined up in the queue, staring at the 30 minute wait… whoosh! and some cars will go sailing past us and choke the narrow level crossing. The drivers are from among us – not any illiterate idiot but an engineer or a doctor working in one of the fancy offices that dot this city.