Thoughts of January

Probably after reaching a certain stage we are psychologically conscious of our position and responsibilities for which it is never easy to commit any mistake but once we start committing mistakes, the psychological barrier fades. Subsequent violations do not look as imposing as the first one. This realisation dawned on me recently while I was taking stock of my negligence in life. I imagine I could have been much more enterprising had I been a little careful and such thought made me sad for a moment. However, the penitence was short lived when I remembered ‘to err is human’. Is it the normal practice of other reprobates too? I must find out.

To lead a life of perfection is an aspiration that keeps us ticking. We strive to be perfectionist, but it is a huge task. Many years back when I wished ‘Happy Diwali’ to my boss he retorted by saying, “It is the darkest Diwali of my life”. Mr Perfectionist was upset that I could not achieve the target fixed by him for the month. He had distributed the tax collection target evenly and was expecting proportionate collection. I explained the pattern of tax collection and reasoned out the unevenness because of the market behaviour. The statistics of the last five years was illustrative of the pattern. He would not listen to it simply because a person cannot remain hungry for days together to enjoy a feast. You need ration every day to survive, he argued. He is an honest and upright administrator besides being a virtuous person but never accepts ‘no’ as answer. I had a very difficult time differentiating the animate with the inanimate and their existential requirements. But then life is not a bed of roses.

We consider people as performer who have dedication and hard work. Allurement for recognition and praise is perhaps the secret of performance. My grandfather used to tell, ‘nothing is more enchanting than your own praise or denigration of others’. Recently I discovered that the second one is much more attractive and entertaining than the first one. I heard that an educationist had a brilliant record of academic achievements but what engaged the attention of the people around him was his salacious rendezvous with the domestic help. Such are the vagaries of life.

I know an extremely dedicated officer who was some years senior to me. He is so dedicated that sometimes he forgets that he has a family of his own. We all consider him as an authority on tax laws. Surprisingly, after his retirement there was a departmental proceeding for his negligence in completing an enquiry. We all know that he was so involved in the Court cases for the Revenue that he had no time for completing inquiry. Time required for handling a tax case for the revenue depends upon many factors. One only wishes these factors be considered.    

About six months ago the participants of a training programme met me at my chamber and requested to address the trainees. I was surprised because the training programme was over and the relieve order was in the process of being issued, but they persisted with their demand which I conceded rather reluctantly with the rider that it would be matter of minutes. They agreed

What should I tell you now? When the curtain drops and a play concludes, what remains is the indistinct muttering in the wings. Should I get your indulgence to recount those mutterings? What I propose to tell is not part of the syllabus nor did we impart training on these issues. Imagine, after sixty-five years of independence some of our women folk still walk five kilometres to fetch drinking water. Our people continue to suffer the ignominy of indifference when they go to different offices to get their work done. Justice is denied to many for none of their faults. It is not that the God has failed, but rather we have failed our own people. You are all Government officers and part of the establishment that ensures transparency. Don’t you feel disturbed? If you could find time to think these mutterings for a minute and identify your role, I would be most obliged.

I hope against hope that they still remember.

January is refreshingly cool to think, meditate and reflect the events of the past. I chanced upon discovering my old diary of 1982 where I scribbled, ‘to love and to be loved/ Are both perhaps simultaneous desires/Hovering around relationship, old and new’. I wish it were true.