Chai pani for pani

There is an old Kishor Kumar song: Alla megh de, pani de, pani de gud dhani de. It means, Oh God, give us clouds, give us water…I don’t know what gud dhani means; but the gist is, water is very critical, and it is divine.

Water is something that we don’t have these days. The Jal Board is responsible for distributing water in Delhi, but since somehow they are unable to do so, they supply water using the water tankers. You need to go to your area’s complaint office, register your house number, and their website says you should get water within three hours, subject to availability of the tanker. The service is free of cost.

Not for the Jal Board employees who distribute the water. To get water, you need to offer them chai pani (a colloquial term for bribe).

Their standard line is, your number is not in the book, and if you insist that you had gotten your complaint registered in the morning, their supervisor promptly takes out the book and shows it to you. Now, you can never make out whether it is the same book you saw in the morning, or some different book. If you are really desperate, offer them chai pani and lo!, who says your number should be their in order to get your water tank filled?

Initially they were quite prompt. We got the complaint booked in the morning, and we got the water by evening. Since this was too much to ask for, this bonhomie couldn’t continue for long. Although we get the house number booked everyday, somehow it disappears from the book when they visit the colony to distribute water. It has been happening for three days; and they are expert strategists. They know for three days we haven’t received water. So today, since our house number is not there, we can give them some chai pani and get our share of water, for which, incidentally, we regularly pay the monthly water bill. I refused to pay the chai pani, although there was a strong desire to pay them some monthly money so that they fill our water tank whenever they visit the area

Tomorrow I’ll go myself and make sure they enter our house number. If we don’t have water, we’ll purchase from a commercial vendor. Tomorrow if again they ask for chai pani I’ll probably register a complaint against them, or may be not. Maybe I’ll choose to pay them some monthly money so that we don’t need to bother about going to the complaint office everyday in the morning.

Since childhood I’ve seen my parents paying small amounts to various government officials to get things done. It’s the only way to get things done here, they say. And I always protest. I always say that they ask for money because we give them when they ask for it, and then they don’t do the work without having it. It’s a vicious circle. Once they taste the blood, they don’t want to part with it.

Corruption is rampant in our country, and at all levels. Can a single person fight it? Yes and no. It needs determination, and above all it needs time and perseverance because if one person refuses to pay bribe, there are thousands who eagerly pay it. In fact in the government sector it’s a norm what they call it as ooper ki kamai — the extra income. Some people earn extra incomes ten times their actual salaries.

So if tomorrow I refuse to pay chai pani what happens? I don’t get the water. Ok, I complain, then? I don’t get water for quite a long time because people who register complaints get their cuts from people against whom the complaint is being lodged. They can even discontinue our regular supply. I can file another complaint at a higher level — same thing happens. Do I have the time? No. Do I want to be a crusader? It’s not one of my priorities. But then whose priority is it? We rant about corruption, but we (most of us, if not all) don’t want to be the first ones to stand against it. We want a clean administration, but we don’t want to be the cleaners. There are many people who are quietly or vocally taking a stand. I would like to join hands with them instead of fighting a lone battle. Thinking about tomorrow…