Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Weaker Sex Speaker Sex - 8

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During the 1950s and 60s when our country was in thrall of socialism of a sort, most white-collar jobs were government jobs. And women didn't wear collars, they wore saris and blouses, not necessarily white. So we saw very few women working files in offices and across counters. They were happy to be home-makers...aka housewives.

The few women we saw at work were lady doctors specializing in gynecology, their nurses mostly from Kerala, and teachers in convent schools. There were no women visible in our banks, post offices and revenue departments. We didn't hear any complaints about this inequality. Men dominated them and shut them up with false logic like: "If a male is employed, his whole family is fed and housed and schooled; while if that position is snatched by a woman (usually a virgin not making her home), then she alone benefits."


That was how our skewed socialism worked, unlike in Russia where everyone, male and female, worked...to ultimately dismantle their genuine socialism brick by relentless brick.


And the flip side of our socialism was corruption at the workplace. No job could be done or file moved without greasing one or more palms endlessly since corruption was not well-organized like now. 


The epitome of visible corruption was the Railway Reservation Counter manned by a grumpy male clerk who would flip through his 6 hidden volumes, and declare:

"No room! No room!! No room!!!"


like the Hatter, March Hare, and Dormouse:



...The table was a large one, but the three were all crowded together at one corner of it: `No room! No room!' they cried out when they saw Alice coming. `There's PLENTY of room!' said Alice indignantly, and she sat down in a large arm-chair at one end of the table...


And then as you move away with a bowed head from the counter, a tout of the clerk would approach you discreetly...both make a proportionate hole in your pocket.

The system worked amazingly. Even teachers were discovered selling marks. The authorities then came up with what was cutely called, Spot Valuation, which is defined thus:

"Instead of the answer bundles going to the teachers, teachers would go to the answer bundles."

If you think it removed the corrupt practices of teachers, come on! Instead of the evaluation of scripts getting centralized, corruption did.

Then came Rajivji, young, fresh, handsome, and full of enthusiasm to reform things and blot out the old and wicked ways of male clerks across counters. His formula was simple:

"Women are less corrupt since Nature made them shy and gentle. So let every counter that interfaces with public be manned by ladies henceforth"

And that worked wonders...for a while. We saw white-collar women everywhere and they did make a difference by and large.

Then Rajivjee's mission got aborted by as yet unproved charges of thope-corruption against himself!

And we banished socialism and welcomed free enterprise. And (some) women in offices got liberated and bearded men in their own dens. 

Here is an example:

Recently I wanted to gift my mother a landed property, namely my father's house, which would have gone to me absolutely by virtue of a will he made in his wisdom while he was alive. I had only 5 days to stay in the place where the house stood and get the gifting legally done. I thought it was more than enough time.

So I went to the Revenue Office there and was told to contact a Document Writer (DW), a private position of a powerful agent. I met the pleasant gentleman and asked him to do the needful for me, please! 

He told me to leave everything to him, which I had to do since there was no way I could write a legal document myself...a Ph D in physics doesn't train you in that field.

In the evening DW visited our home with a digital camera and took pictures of the house from all possible angles and distances. And his assistant fished out a tape from his pocket and the two took measurements in feet and yards or whatever of the ground floor and first floor built up area as well as the foreground and the background garden space and the boundary walls. And DW fetched his calculator from his hip pocket and sat down with the data for a good half hour punching buttons and stuff. I was terribly impressed by all this hi-tech in a small town.  At last, he declared:

"The current market value of this property is Rs 15 lakhs. So 1% of it is the gift charge: Rs 15 thousand."

I said ok, I would be glad to spend it from my pocket for my mom. And as I was about to fetch the wallet from my pocket, he said:

"Please give me Rs 25 thousand"

I was stunned because there was no way the stamp-vendor charges and DW's charges and other charges would amount to more than an extra thousand or two. And as I looked crestfallen, he explained:

"Sir, you are a poor brahmin and so am I. And I am very pleased with your noble gesture of gifting your house to your mom. And I tried to explain all these circumstances to our Revenue Officer. And asked the mamool amount to be slashed to the minimum. And ultimately I got it down from Rs 9 thousand to Rs 8 thousand after an hour of coaxing and cajoling and haggling. What more can I do? My hands are tied."

Since there was no other way I could get the job done in a hurry, I forked out the money. The lump hurt my gullet but I swallowed it. And he finally said:

"Tomorrow is Ashtami and the day after is Navami. Our Revenue Officer is very orthodox in these matters and said that no registrations will be done till the day after the day after which happens to be the most propitious Shravana Dasami. Please bring your mother to the office at 4 PM that day. I will make everything ready and see to it that you are served before everyone else in less than no time since your mother is in her late 80s"

So we traveled there in a cab and entered the office.

And found that the smiling welcoming handsome winsome youthful Revenue Officer is a well-dressed and soft-spoken super-efficient lady!  


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