12 Angry Jurors

As February approaches, so does Stella Maris College Play. Considering how involved I was in our 2010 and 2011 productions, it was strange to sit in the audience for the 2012 play. It is equally disconcerting to watch as my juniors carry on the tradition, without me and my batchmates, and – I would think – do an excellent job without us in the 2013 edition.

At least this time, I know only one-third of the cast and crew. We made the Edouard Michelin Auditorium of the Alliance Francaise of Madras our own in 2010, and maintained that sense of ownership until last year; this year, they’re moving to the Museum Theatre, Egmore. The script is not a self-scripted comedy, a marked difference from the three productions I just mentioned – instead, it’s a story touching on matters of law and justice, democracy, and the personal motivations of twelve ordinary individuals who have less interest in doing their duty than in getting on with their own lives. It’s an adaptation of much acclaimed TV drama 12 Angry Jurors.

Now, I’ve never watched this show. Don’t tell anyone, but I’d never even heard of it. I can tell you what I’ve been told about the script, and that’s about it:

A 19-year-old boy has just stood trial for the fatal stabbing of his father. “He doesn’t stand a chance.” mutters the guard as the 12 jurors are taken into the bleak jury room. It looks like an open-and-shut case—until one of the jurors begins opening the others’ eyes to the facts. “This is a remarkable thing about democracy,” says the foreign-born juror, “that we are notified by mail to come down to this place—and decide on the guilt or innocence of a man, of a man we have not known before. We have nothing to gain or lose by our verdict. We should not make it a personal thing.” But personal it does become, with each juror revealing their own character as the various testimonies are re-examined, the murder is re-enacted and a new murder threat is born before their own eyes!

I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a strong story to me. It’s a winning premise, and I’m not surprised that this TV drama was acclaimed. I don’t know how my juniors have adapted it, I haven’t watched the play yet or even read the script; but I have nothing but faith in the directors, cast, and those members of crew that I know for sure are involved in this production.

On the basis of that faith, I strongly recommend watching 12 Angry Jurors. After all, you presumably have no bittersweet emotions connected to this franchise. You presumably have not spent your two really good years of life loving the play with all your heart, only to have to leave it behind when you graduate. You, presumably, care at least a little about theatre, as do I and the current students of my former college, my juniors.

That would be why you should go for 12 Angry Jurors. Because I can’t promise a barrel of laughs, as I did in 2010, 2011, and 2012, but the Stellar Players will put up a good play, at least up to the general theatre experience you could expect in Chennai, if not higher. That much, on the basis of my faith in my juniors, I can promise.

So come for 12 Angry Jurors! Details below:

Venue: The Museum Theatre, Egmore
Date: 2nd and 3rd February
Time: 7:30pm (2nd) 3:30pm & 7:30pm (3rd)
Tickets: Rs. 150, Rs. 250 & Rs. 500
Contact: 8939-088-373
Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/12AngryJurors.SMC?ref=stream
Tumblr: http://12angryjurors.tumblr.com/
In association with: Crea-Shakthi
Directorial Guide: Dushyant Gunashekar

And, as always, good luck to them! :)

Posted in Stella Maris, Theatre | Leave a comment

Atlas Shrugged essay contest

I’m proud to say that I participated in the Ayn Rand Institute‘s Atlas Shrugged essay contest 2012, and placed second. The essay I entered is below:

Topic: Choose the scene in Atlas Shrugged that is most meaningful to you. Analyze that scene in terms of the wider themes in the book.

When we were in school, my friends fantasized that Albus Dumbledore would owl them their invitation to Hogwarts. I fantasized that John Galt would ask me to abandon this world to its own contradictions and invite me to Galt’s Gulch, alongside the greatest minds of our time.

That said, it’s still hard to pinpoint which scene in Atlas Shrugged is my favorite. The description of life in Galt’s Gulch? The way that Dagny will do anything to build her Line and save Colorado? Francisco d’Anconia’s youth with Dagny Taggart? These are all magnificent, and I feel nothing but pride for the woman who created these characters with such absolute disdain for the morality of apology and sacrifice, and of course for the characters themselves.

However, the question is not which scene is my favorite. The question is which one is most meaningful to me. Which I understand, intellectually and intuitively. Which I live.

And the answer to that is just depressing.

When I started writing this essay, I fully intended to write of the sparkling highs in Atlas Shrugged, the moments that have given my life direction and shown me how the world should be. When I first read this book, I fell in love. I fell in love with John Galt, Francisco d’Anconia, Hank Rearden and Dagny Taggart, with Ellis Wyatt and Owen Kellogg. With Richard Halley’s Concerto of Deliverance. With the way children are raised in Galt’s Gulch (719). I was uplifted, inspired to rise above the slime to live my own life. Atlas Shrugged has given me plenty of these moments, and, a few years ago, those are exactly what I would have written about.

Since then, however, I have had to grow up. I do not accept malevolence “in bruised resignation as the law of existence” (720), yet I have seen the way that it is impossible to completely ignore and avoid the moochers. It is impossible to live in this world and not be filled with helpless rage by the willful brainlessness of so very many people. It is impossible for me to hold ideals of the kind that Atlas Shrugged shows us, while living as a full part of the world. The promise of Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead is not fulfilled by the life I live.

I would love to write about the absolute pride I feel when Hank Rearden says: “The public good be damned, I will have no part of it!” (445) I want to write about the absolute ecstasy I share with Dagny Taggart and Hank Rearden as they careen through the American countryside on a train built of their dreams and minds (224-232), or the joy I take in Francisco d’Anconia’s impassioned defense of money and the philosophy of Capitalism (380-385).

These are the best parts of Atlas Shrugged. These moments of sheer, rapturous joy, which “is how men expect to feel about their life once or twice, as an exception…  [but John Galt chooses] as the constant and normal” (1001), these are the soul of Atlas Shrugged. The “shiftless, the purposeless, the irresponsible, the irrational” (683) that comprise the rest of the world, are insignificant, beneath notice. They are there; to deny their existence would be to deny reality. But it is laughable to adapt one’s life to suit them.

Yet they form the part of Atlas Shrugged that is easiest to relate to. It is painfully easy to recognize a Wesley Mouch or a Mr. Thompson among present-day politicians. Among the prominent faces in my own country, and people I have met, I have recognized at various times an Ivy Starnes, a Bertram Scudder, a Balph Eubank, a Paul Larkin and a Mrs. Rearden.

That being the case, it may be understandable that the scene most meaningful to me is Cherryl Taggart’s suicide.

Cherryl Taggart is a woman of great potential. She has no specific skill. She is neither a miner nor an industrialist, neither a scientist nor an artist. She is employed in a small shop; she appears to be nothing special. Yet her attitude is inspiring. She is a hero-worshipper – unlike Dagny, who is a hero herself – but does not settle for being a fan-girl. She wants to become one of the heroes herself. She is eager, young, and completely in love with life. Cherryl Taggart is an optimist, an idealist. She wishes to live in a world in which she can live. She has escaped from her small-town roots and is finding her true beginnings in the big city.

She would give her life for one of the heroes, the producers, and when James Taggart enters her shop and eventually asks her to marry him, she imagines that her dreams have come true. Even though it slowly becomes clear that he does not adhere to the principles she does, Cherryl marries Taggart and lives with him for quite a while. The fact that Cherryl unconsciously chooses to wed and live with evil is the reason that she eventually has to make the conscious choice to commit suicide.

Cherryl’s suicide is personally significant to me because I associate most strongly with Eddie Willers and Cherryl Taggart (Brooks), and perhaps Hank Rearden in the early parts of the novel. I am not a producer on the scale of John Galt or Hank Rearden. The world would not tremble if I left it. I am only a quiet, contented liver of my own life within my own modest means, produced by my own effort for my own sake – much like Cherryl Taggart should have been.

Cherryl’s is a cautionary tale. The warning is never to let your faith in the world depend completely on any one person other than yourself. While it is true that we mortals need the heroes, in order to live a good life, this is quite different from committing all our faith in mankind and our reasons for living to the safekeeping of any person other than ourselves.

I find that it impossible to live a moral life as Ayn Rand describes it, when your highest ideal is anyone other than yourself. The love between Galt and Dagny, for instance, is at its core a recognition of identical ideals and values in each other. To treat anyone else as the epitome of your values and your ideal of self, is to be self-effacing and ultimately, therefore, selfless.

In spite of this bad judgment, Cherryl Taggart’s potential would have been rewarded, in a sane world, by her long, happy and productive life. But the world is not sane. “Not your kind of world!” she cries as she runs into the river “with full consciousness of acting in self-preservation” (831). And self-preservation it was. As Wikipedia puts it, “Upon realizing the nature of the moral code surrounding her, the apparent lack of escape for herself and the heroes she worships, and her unnamed desire to remove support from the machinations she abhors, Cherryl throws herself from a bridge to her death.”

If she had chosen to live on in that world, in any way, she would have begun to lose herself. A choice to live with James Taggart would have validated his life-choices, as it would have been an underscoring and acceptance of her previous decision to trust in him completely. To throw herself on Dagny’s charity would have been debilitating to her own free spirit. To return to the dime store with the knowledge of her failed marriage and the reasons for it, even assuming she could under the new Directives, would again be a failure to live on her own terms. While Cherryl’s choice to die is not made in complete consciousness, she recognizes that this is not her kind of world. She knows intuitively that she has no more moral ways to live in the world – and acts on that knowledge.

Though I do feel pity for a life cut short, I am proud of Cherryl Taggart, and would be honored to know her or even be her. She is not someone to hero-worship, but she is independent, honest, brave and innocently eager to face the world and win. She lives on her own terms, and she ultimately chooses to die on her own terms as well, in a kind of atonement for her previous bad judgment.

However, there’s an even stronger reason that I find Cherryl Taggart’s suicide so personally significant. Simply put, it’s this: there, but for the grace of Ayn Rand, go I.

 

Word Count: 1413

Bibliography

“List of Atlas Shrugged Characters.” Wikipedia – The Free Encyclopedia.

Rand, Ayn. Atlas Shrugged – 50th Anniversary Edition. New York, USA: Signet, 1996.

 

Posted in Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand, Objectivism, Philosophy, Writing | 2 Comments

Happy Endings

“The Prince married the Princess, and they had three wonderful children and ruled the kingdom wisely and well.”

“The frog turned into a Prince, and had a long, happy married life with the Princess.”

“… and they all lived happily ever after.”

I am absolutely convinced that the only moral way to end a story is happily. Everyone agrees that there is no single story, nor do those stories actually end. So why, I always wonder, would anyone choose to depress their readers?

The answer is somewhere in the writer’s psyche. The purpose of a tragic ending is either catharsis or realism – either to make the reader experience tragedy and thus release the painful emotions of their own lives, or to acknowledge that in real life, right rarely triumphs.

These are both psychologically valid reasons, though I disagree with both.

Ultimately, the question is of when to end. There is no absolutely final ending. It’s the author’s choice whether to end with James and Lily Potter’s murder, Sirius Black’s death, Ron’s desertion of Harry and Hermione on the hunt for the Horcruxes, or Harry’s triumph over Lord Voldemort.

So. Why the happy ending? Couldn’t JK Rowling have chosen instead to represent a darker, more morbid and (some would say) more real point of view?

No, she could not. And I’ll tell you why. It’s because people, especially children and especially in a fantasy story, must be given a reason to do the right thing.

You cannot end a tale with “Do not trust your friend – he might well betray you to your death”, or “Do not trust your own mind”. But most importantly, you cannot end a tale with “That’s the way the world is, you better toughen up or you’ll die just like those idiots”.

And why can’t you? Because it is wrong. It is wrong that you acknowledge that the world is extremely imperfect, and insist on further tormenting your readers with further sorrow. Why do you need a mirror held to society through literature? To see the world more clearly? There is enough news and non-fiction out there which holds up that mirror with absolute unshakable certainty. The people who don’t look at those sources are people who don’t care and will not read the depressing book anyway.

The other reason to write a tragic ending is, you will remember, catharsis.

… well, there’s nothing much I can say against this one. I appreciate the need to feel that others have suffered the same things that you have, and to weep with them instead of yourself. It is understandable, it’s just not for me. When I’m depressed I don’t read or write, I simply can’t. Which means that catharsis isn’t going to work for me.

Little Women is a classic example of the happy ending. You know that any number of things could go wrong in the course of that tale. But by the end of Little Women, Beth is alive and well and Jo looks set to get together with Laurie.

Later, Beth dies and Jo breaks Laurie’s heart. But those things happen in the middle of a book, so that by the time you close it, you have a warmth in your heart and a smile on your lips again. That is the purpose of romantic literature, the whole purpose. To give joy.

Of course, I believe that that’s the purpose of a lot of things, including all literature, all the other arts, and life itself.

So. Let me start concluding before I repeat myself too many times. Orson Welles said, “If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” The implication is that a happy ending is exactly the same as a tragic one, and it makes no real difference which one you choose.

I agree with the statement, though not the evaluation. I agree that it is effortlessly easy to convert a tragic ending into a happy one by ending it earlier or later. And I agree that it is the author’s choice where to end the story and which it becomes. And since ultimately we are talking about fiction, here, where the story is entirely in the author’s hands, I blame the author for tragic endings.

I can’t torment my characters. Seriously, I’m physically incapable of being mean to them and sending them to sure and certain doom. It takes cold-heartedness beyond anything I possess to create a character, give him or her life and love and joy, for the sole purpose of taking those things away. Since I can protect them, I try to, even when the story demands otherwise.

Honestly, I think that’s ultimately the number one reason I detest a tragic ending even when it’s called for. You are creating those characters, you have complete control over everything that happens to them. When you hold someone in the palm of your hand like that, when you can take care of them or kill them at will, there’s honestly no choice, you have to take care of them.

And then to allow them to die, or even worse to concoct situations in which they could be saved but you throw them in the deep end and hold their struggling heads in the water anyway?

Yes, happy endings seem a much saner option for me as an author – the only option, really. I cannot see myself as that much of a sadist. Maybe eventually I’ll see the difference between people and characters and resign myself to intentionally injuring my own creations. Maybe one day I won’t mind traumatising my readers for the sake of showing them how the world truly works. Maybe one day, I’ll “mature” as a writer.

I wouldn’t recommend holding your breath waiting for that day.

Posted in Fiction, Happy Endings, Writing | 9 Comments

Prophecy: The Dragon’s Blade

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but Part 2 of the Prophecy series, The Dragon’s Blade, is now complete and has been sent to the publishers for feedback and approval for publication.

The next phase is editing – from my side and from theirs. Following which of course is production. It will still take a while, but the manuscript is done and sent out from my end.

I had a wonderful time writing it, and I do think I’ve grown as a writer since The Rise of the Sword. Three of my seven major characters just rolled off the keypad. I think it has a decent mix of humour and a darker touch to it.

I hope you’ll find it worth the wait since The Rise of the Sword. Thanks for your patience :)

Posted in Random | 1 Comment

Complain about THIS.

Last night, I watched the India Special episode of Top Gear, which was supposedly so vile and offensive that the Indian High Commission to the UK had to complain to the BBC.

It’s a very harsh article, suggesting that Clarkson and the others do indeed need to be crucified, and that was the only thing I had to go by until the night of January 31st, when the Christmas Special episode finally aired on BBC Entertainment. So, I thought, the two-hour episode is going to be full of Top Gear racially and automotively insulting India. There’s a lot to insult in the transport sector, after all, and they do have a habit of enjoying themselves by mocking everything. That’s their signature style. So frankly, I was willing to believe they’d done/said/implied a whole lot of objectionable stuff in what turned out to be a two-hour special episode. I repeat, it’s Top Gear. It’s ridiculous to expect anything else of them, because that’s their brand of humour; biting satire. Rarely justified, often crass, almost always stupid - but utterly hilarious. Well, to me, at least.

Either way, the point is I was willing to believe that they’d done something ridiculously, even unforgiveably stupid.

But they didn’t.

They weren’t respectful, of course not. (Please.) But they drove through Mumbai without airconditioning and didn’t make a fuss. They travelled by train from Mumbai to Jaipur and hardly said a word about the terrifying crowds and unutterable mess. They stood in queue and only commented on the time taken – not the discipline (or lack thereof) of the queuers!

They were incredibly impressed by the dabbawallas. They remembered to mention, not at all resentfully or bitterly, that Jaguar is owned by an Indian company and that the Nano is the cheapest production car in the world. They noted the exuberance, in an entirely positive way, of the auto-drivers – Tuk-Tuks, as they insisted on calling them. (That was wrong; they’re called Tuk-Tuks in Thailand, I think it is – not India.) They drove through Himachal, and the way they spoke of the mountains was nothing short of reverent.

The image shown in the article of The Mail where one of the three presenters (Jeremy Clarkson, not Richard Hammond or James May) strips off his pants is not some kind of Bart Simpsonian yearning to moon the Indian elite. It’s a bit of extremely low-brow humour that makes the audience laugh at Clarkson himself. Honestly, I didn’t even think of that being objectionable when I watched the show, even though I was watching out for things that might have been cause for complaint.

In another example of where the presenters make space for humour by mocking themselves, one of their tasks or games or whatever they call them involves them acting as dabbawallas themselves. They lose/spill almost all the lunches.

Look, if you’ve watched a single episode of Top Gear you’ll know the kind of antics they come up with. Clarkson drove a car through a mall as part of a road test. Their test driver is called the Stig and his face is always hidden under his helmet. When their “reasonably priced car” needed changing, they gave it a “Viking funeral” by exploding a factory chimney onto it. So let’s just say they were the pack of idiots they usually are, with the usual idiotic pranks, and leave it at that. Only difference is that they were in India, that’s all.

Honestly, I have no idea what people objected to about that episode! The fact that Clarkson said that everyone who comes to India “gets the trots” and so needs an easily accessible loo (e.g. in the boot of his Jaguar) is crass and not exactly true, but a) it’s close enough for some foreign stomachs; b) it’s a commonly held belief, and complaining about Clarkson is pointless when there are thousands who would believe it whether or not he’d said it; and most importantly c) it’s nowhere NEAR grounds to complain against a show! Another thing which I thought was possibly objectionable to our fusspot diplomats is that all three hosts were horrified by the state of the traffic, and said that India has the world’s most dangerous roads. Whatever they’ve officially stated, I really do think this must be the core reason.

Now, I don’t know what you think, but it seems clear to me that this also is not grounds to lodge an official complaint. This is a fact. If we actually had really safe roads, that would be a different matter.

But, I mean. Come on. DO we have safe roads?! Driving in the night, on a two-way highway without a median, would you feel safe? And they’re a set of men used to English roads and conditions! I’m amazed they didn’t die!

We literally have the most dangerous roads in the world, and I’m actually rather glad that Top Gear stated it. This way, a few fewer foreigners will try driving trips in India. Their lives and blood pressures are thus saved.

The Top Gear episode opens with a claim that the team will come to India on a “trade mission” to build ties between England and India. David Cameron appears at the beginning to unequivocally distance himself from the venture – whether on purpose or by pure accident, I have no idea. Obviously Top Gear wouldn’t do that, when it’s a show that – well, it pretends to review cars, but whatever it is it sure as hell isn’t a diplomatic mission. If you ask me (not that you did, of course) the episode did exactly what it set out to do. It was a “light hearted road trip focusing on the journey and the inevitable idiosyncrasies of the cars they will drive, as well as the country and scenery we see along the way.”

Regardless of the sense or lack of it of complaining, regardless of the fact that this shows further disturbing signs that the Indian establishment is prickly about everything that could be a threat to itself, from Salman Rushdie to anti-Sonia/Rahul Facebooking – regardless of all that, one fact emerges. We all stayed up till 1am to watch that whole show, to judge it for ourselves. I’m sure plenty of other Indians did that, too. So – just as with every banned book and burnt painting ever in the history of mankind, Top Gear’s won! I’m sure that official complaint boosted viewership.

But it does worry me how much censorship, actual attempted anticipated or incidental, is in the news recently. Who knows how much takes place that is itself censored?

Posted in Censorship, Free speech | Leave a comment

Awesome Old Year

2011 has been a good year. I had my last three months of college, including my College Play, graduated, joined work, was long-listed on the Vodafone Crossword Book Awards, was judged one of the best debut novelists of last year, and – most important, to me – I’ve just completed the first draft of Prophecy: The Dragon’s Blade.

Here’s hoping your year was good as well, and that next year will be great too! :)

Posted in Random, Stella Maris, The Dragon's Blade, The Rise of the Sword | 2 Comments

Status Update – The Dragon’s Blade

Just a quick note to the effect that I’ve hit 90,000 words of Prophecy: The Dragon’s Blade, out of an anticipated 100,000. I’m really excited by the way it’s turning out :) :)

The first half of the book is in the proof/very-initial edit stage, which should help speed up processes and shorten publication timelines.

Looking forward to it! :)

Posted in Random | 1 Comment

Thank you Ayn Rand

There is one thing I regret, more than anything else in the world. It’s that Ayn Rand died years before I was born. This post should have been a mail to her. These words are for her.

For those of you who’ve never heard of/never read Ayn Rand’s books, let me give you the short version. She created the philosophy of Objectivism, which says that life is real, we are what we make of ourselves, and that guilt is evil.

Hers is the philosophy of selfishness. Selfishness, admiration and respect and love of the self, is good. The only possible goals a man can work towards are his own. The only possible ideas a man can live by are his own. The only possible life a man can live is his own.

Most people never understand this, because common wisdom encourages selflessness and charity. But if you don’t assume blindly that selfishness is evil, you realise it’s the only way you can work hard at your own goals, gain your own successes, and be happy without feeling guilty that there are others in the world not as happy as you.

I wouldn’t have got it myself. I just wouldn’t have thought of it at all. I’d have felt the guilt. Because yeah, there are things I could do to improve the world and others’ lives. There are things anyone can do. Any person willing to live for others can do good for them in the short term.

But forget about the long-term negatives; the reason I don’t do those things is because I don’t want to. I want to live for myself. That is my priority, always has been. So in the era before Ayn Rand, as it were, there was a lot of guilt.

This is appreciation, and it will be a long post, since I have a lot to appreciate here.

The short version is, very simply: Ayn Rand, THANK YOU.

My parents are rational thinkers. They introduced my brother and myself to Ayn Rand through The Fountainhead when I was barely into my teens. Her novels saved me from a life of perpetual confusion.

I’ve always known that certain beliefs are wrong, and some are right. Yet I’m told that all beliefs hold equal value. I’ve always known that what I make, what I create, what I write, what I own, is MINE. Yet I’m told that all property is theft, that my primary duty is to help the less fortunate, that even art is a blessing from the unknown. I have no particular objection to charity, but surely my primary duty is to creating value for myself, not for others.

It is hard when the world tells a child things that directly contradict what she believes (reinforced by my parents’ beliefs – they were never a part of “the world”, which is part of why I love them so much). It was even harder when I decided I was blindly accepting what my parents said and decided to consider every thought that came my way. That was when I heard of “If the majority believes it, it’s true.”

I was a kid. I didn’t know what to do. If the majority thought that socialism was the right way for India (not that I put it in so sweeping a scope then) then maybe they were right.
It took me quite a while to get over that phase. But when I was around thirteen, I think (not that I made a note) that I first read The Fountainhead.

The world changed.

It changed again when I read Atlas Shrugged, when I read John Galt’s speech right at the end, when I read Ayn Rand’s essays, when I had the words to express exactly why I was so worried at the way the world was meandering, and what I should do, for my part.

Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today. And I like who I am today.

Which is why I say, Ayn Rand, I wish you were alive today. Because it’s just dumb to say that “wherever you may be, I know you’re listening” (since the very concept of life beyond death, or any other supernatural phenomenon associated with HER, is – well, it’s sacrilege, really), but I do wish you could hear me say: THANK YOU.

Posted in Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand, Fountainhead, Objectivism, Philosophy | 10 Comments

Preliminary Response to Standing Committee Deliberations

This is a mail I received by virtue of being on India Against Corruption’s mailing list. Reproduced for your reading, with no commentary whatsoever. They’ve already said it all, really.

The issue of the Lokpal Bill is before the Parliamentary standing committee. The reports filtering out of the committee’s discussions are a cause of concern for the following reasons:

a) Anna suspended his fast in August on the basis of a resolution passed by the Parliament of India which was termed as ‘Sense of House’ by some people but was referred to as a ‘resolution’ by the Prime Minister in his letter to Shri Anna Hazare. This resolution clearly stated that three issues would be addressed through the Lokpal Bill namely: Lokayuktas in states would be created through the same bill, and lower bureaucracy and citizens’ charter would be included in the Lokpal bill. However we are surprised that contrary to that resolution, the government proposes to exclude the citizens’ charter and lower bureaucracy from the Lokpal’s jurisdiction and bring a weak and ineffective bill to deal with citizens’ grievances.

b) Exclusion of Group C and Group D employees from the jurisdiction of Lokpal: It is being reported in the media that the jurisdiction of Lokpal would be confined to Group A and Group B employees of Central Government only and the jurisdiction of state Lokayuktas would be confined to Group A and Group B employees of that state Government only. Lokpal/Lokayukta would not have jurisdiction to investigate allegations of corruption against Group C and D employees. We strongly oppose this for the following reasons:

1. If Group C and Group D employees are excluded then would this mean that they could indulge in corruption and they would not be investigated by any agency? Aren’t we giving them a license to indulge in corruption?

2. It is being argued that their corruption would be investigated by CVC. This is misleading because firstly, CVC has jurisdiction only over Group A employees. Secondly, CVC is an advisory body. Thirdly, CVC is not a police station and hence does not have power to register an FIR or conduct criminal investigations. Fourthly, CVC does not have the necessary financial and human resources (it just has a staff strength of 230 employees). Therefore, it is misleading to say CVC would investigate allegations of corruption against Group C and Group D employees.

3. The common man has to deal with Group C and Group D employees on a daily basis. Lakhs of people who participated in this anti-corruption movement wanted a solution to this day-to-day corruption. If Group C and Group D employees are excluded, where would the common man go and report his day-to-day corruption?

4. Some people say that there is hardly any scope for corruption at the level of Group C and Group D employees. This is incorrect. Inspectors who are infamous for indulging in corruption are Group C employees. It is the Group D staff which is notorious for stealing critical files from government organizations. So where would all these cases be reported? Which agency would investigate all these cases?

5. In each state, maximum corruption takes place at the level of Group C and Group D employees. Almost Rs 30,000 crores worth of ration meant for poor people is annually siphoned off by Group C and Group D employees. Thousands of crores of leakage takes place in NREGA works at the level of Group C and Group D employees. Panchayat secretary and panchayat officials are Group C and Group D employees. Huge amount of corruption takes place in panchayat works. Who would investigate all this corruption?

6. It is being claimed that Lokpal/Lokayukta institutions would become unwieldy if all employees are brought under their jurisdiction. This is wrong. Firstly we need to appreciate that India is a large country with 120 crore population. Therefore it has a large bureaucracy. Central government itself has 60 lakh employees (including PSUs). Group A and Group B employees put together are less than 3 lakhs. So should we allow the other 57 lakh employees to keep indulging in corruption and not provide any systems against their corruption? This is completely unacceptable to us. By international standards, you would need a total staff strength of 30,000 people in Lokpal to check corruption of 60 Lakh employees. A central government department consisting of 30,000 personnel is a middle size department. It is not such a big department. Most of the central government departments like Railways, Post Office, Defence, Income Tax etc are much bigger than this size. So why are we getting overawed and overwhelmed by this sized Lokpal?

7. It is being alleged that if Lokpal started investigating small cases of corruption then big fish would go scot free. This is wrong. Lokpal will have to create its work systems in such a manner that its normal staff spread across the country would handle smaller cases of corruption. Lokpal could create special units to deal with high level corruption. These units could be directly monitored by Lokpal members. This is how CBI and Income Tax department presently function. CBI has regional offices to deal with smaller corruption but has a few Special Investigating Units in Delhi for high level corruption. Likewise, ordinary income tax officers spread across the country deal with lower income tax payers. But income tax department has separate investigation wing and special commissioners to deal with high level tax evaders. If income tax department can check the tax evasion of more than 3 crore tax payers, then why can’t Lokpal check corruption of 60 Lakh central government employees? In the case of states, the total number of employees is even smaller. The number of all employees including Group A, B, C and D all together would come to less than 5 lakh in any state government.

8. A question raised is, how would one ensure the integrity of such a huge staff in Lokpal? Where would so many honest people come from? We first need to appreciate that there has been a huge vacuum of anti-corruption staff in our country. There are some state governments which have less than 10 staff for the entire state in their anti corruption bureau and state vigilance department put together. Delhi police has less than 15 vigilance officers to check the corruption of more than 85,000 police officials. So therefore there is an urgent need to employ adequate number of anti corruption staff and fill this vacuum. There is so much of corruption in Income Tax department. Does this mean that we should wind up the IT department? No. The country does need an Income Tax department. The answer lies in putting right kind of systems in place in Income Tax so that the scope for corruption reduces and also making Income Tax officials responsible and accountable. Likewise, the time has come to first put adequate number of anti-corruption staff in place on the one hand and to make their functioning transparent and accountable on the other hand so that the institution of Lokpal/Lokayukta itself doesn’t turn corrupt.

c) Keeping CBI out of Lokpal’s control: It has been reported that CBI will not be merged with Lokpal. According to media reports, Lokpal would receive complaints of corruption, refer them to CBI, CBI would do the investigation and send its report to Lokpal and then Lokpal would file a chargesheet in the court. Doesn’t that reduce Lokpal to merely a post office – receive complaints, forward it to CBI, receive CBI’s report and present it before the court – so why do we need a Lokpal? Why can’t the CBI directly receive complaints, do its investigations and directly file chargesheet in the court? This is exactly what CBI does today. However, the CBI is in government’s control. Government exercises administrative and financial control over CBI. Government appoints its director and staff. Because of these controls the government is able to unduly influence CBI investigations. If CBI continues to be under government control and if government is able to influence CBI investigations, then how is the proposed system better than the present system? In cases of corruption, honest investigation is imperative. Prosecution would be successful only if investigations have been honest and effective. Government proposes to keep investigations under its purview by retaining its control over CBI. This has been the biggest obstacle in our anti-corruption system so far. There is a direct conflict of interest in government’s control over CBI because CBI is controlled by the very same people against whom there are allegations of corruption. Therefore it is critical that CBI be unshackled from government’s control, and converted into the investigative arm of Lokpal.

d) Corruption in Judiciary: We had initially proposed that allegations of corruption by judges should also be investigated by Lokpal/Lokayukta. However, the government assured that they would address judicial corruption through Judicial Accountabilty Bill (JAB). Unfortunately, the JAB presented by the government in Parliament and the standing committee report thereon do not make any mention of criminal investigation of corruption against judges. This means that if any judge indulges in corruption, he could neither be investigtated under Lokpal Bill nor under JAB. We strongly demand that since criminal investigation of judges has been left out of JAB, it should now be included in Lokpal Bill.

e) Protection of Whistleblowers: A number of RTI activists and those who raise their voice against corruption are being targeted, victimized and assaulted. They need to be provided effective protection. It is apprehended that as soon as a person would make a complaint to Lokpal, he would be victimized. Since the Lokpal would know the details of his case, this would be the best position to provide protection to that person. However, the government proposes to address this issue through yet another bill which gives the power of providing protection to whistleblowers not to Lokpal but to CVC. In 2003, in Satyendra Dubey case, Supreme Court had made CVC as the nodal agency for providing protection to whistleblowers against professional and physical victimization. In the last 8 years, despite receiving large number of requests, CVC has failed to provide protection even in a single case. This is because CVC has neither resources nor powers to fulfill those obligations. More than 13 RTI activists have been murdered in the last few years. The CVC could not protect any one of them. Even the standing committee which studied the proposed bill for providing protection to whistleblowers, strongly felt that CVC was not the right agency to be given that job. Therefore, we strongly urge that the duty to protect whistleblowers should be given to Lokpal under the Lokpal Bill.

f) Public Grievances: The government proposes to address this issue through yet another bill. However, the proposed bill is bound to collapse within a few days of its enactment. This is because it proposes a highly centralized system. According to the proposed bill, if a citizen fails to get his grievance redressed from the grievance redressal officer and the head of that department, the grievance would go to the state public grievance commission consisting of 5 members stationed at state capital. One wonders how this 5 member body would deal with grievances from all the villages and cities of the entire state – which could run into lakhs, if not crores. Still worse is the fact that an appeal against a state public grievance redressal commission would lie before a 5 members Central public grievance commission stationed in Delhi. This 5 member central public grievance commission would be expected to solve all the grievances against all state and central government departments of 120 crore population! Obviously the system is designed to collapse. We would strongly recommend that the system implemented by Uttarakhand recently should be adopted. In this system, if a citizen fails to get his grievance redressed by the concerned officer, there are two levels of appeals provided in the same department. If he is still aggrieved, the appeal would lie before a judicial officer of state Lokayukta stationed in the same district. Lokayukta has been given the power to appoint as many judicial officers as required at district or block level. If a grievance reaches a judicial officer of Lokayukta, the officer is required to act in a very tough manner. He would be required to impose financial penalty on guilty officers which would be deducted from the salaries of these officers and paid as compensation to the aggrieved citizen. Repeated violations of citizens’ charter would be deemed to be an act of corruption and could lead to imprisonment and/or dismissal of guilty officers. Such a huge deterrent would ensure that the grievances get solved within the department itself.

To sum up: from what we understand from the deliberations of the Standing Committee, the government proposes to remove CBI, judiciary, citizens’ charter, whistleblower protection, Group C and Group D employees from Lokpal jurisdiction. Wouldn’t that reduce Lokpal to an empty tin box with no powers and functions?

Posted in Jan Lokpal Bill, Politics, UPA II | 3 Comments

ACT!!!

“Just because we live in a democracy doesn’t mean we should feel paralysed.” – Mukesh Ambani

There is a “complete absence of decision-making among leaders in Government.” – Azim Premji

“They could have done a much better job in dealing with the demands of the civil society.” – Narayana Murthy

“Nothing will be done in a hurry to avoid trouble in the region.” – PM Manmohan Singh on Telangana

So to the current government:

1. Telangana is not an issue they need to take a decision on.

2. The world-wide economic recession is not an environment in which to take action and encourage growth.

3. The blockade in Manipur is none of their business.

4. Anna Hazare is in turns an agent of the RSS, of a “foreign hand”, a dangerously destabilising force, a naive old fool – but never a man who’s come up with a serious issue that a sizeable section of India supports vociferously and enthusiastically, never a leader, and certainly never a man whose demands need to be acceded to, even when he brings the country to a halt.

India’s current government is refusing to take decisions on fiscal policy, on inflation, on burning domestic issues, on foreign policy. I can only imagine that it’s because Sonia Gandhi is unwell and unable to take charge of the Congress Party. Or maybe they feel that since the world will end in 2012 anyway, it doesn’t really matter what nothing they do. Honestly, UPA I wasn’t this bad.

In any case, I really wish this government would make up its mind and do something. At this stage, I’m starting to wonder if there is at all a government ruling this country. If it wasn’t for the taxation and interest rate hikes, in fact, I’d think they’d taken my previous post (on the benefits of a rational anarchy) very seriously, and decided to back off!

But as long as we have a government administration, I’d love to see them govern and administer. Sadly, with this one, I just can’t.

I cannot wait for 2012 general elections.

Posted in BJP, Congress, Government inaction, Politics, UPA II | Leave a comment