Mukul Sinha: The 'sethia', the officer and the art of bribing

There’s been a lot of debate on the Lokpal Bill, and the venality of netas and babus. But what about ordinary citizens? Though we often have no choice but to pay a bribe, isn’t it within our power to refuse to do so and break the cycle of corruption? With this thought, DNA, over the next few days brings you a series where eminent persons speak about putting their foot down.

The art of living has become the fad among the rich and so has the art of bribery.

The first time somebody  sought a ‘subornment’ from me, it was still a developing art. That was sometime around 1981 (in the pre-Bofors era). As an ordinary litigant, I had filed a suit in the Ahmedabad civil court. I had to swear an affidavit in a related application. I was told to go to a room where an officer gave me a board that had the oath printed in different languages.

I read the one written in English and eagerly waited for the impact. I was still quite new to the judicial system and tried to be accurate with my pronunciation.

The officer (who I came to know was an assistant registrar later on) sadly shook his head and told me it was not good enough. My second effort also failed. I was directed to go back and meet the clerk who was helping me file the suit and learn the procedure!

I narrated my problems to the clerk, who merely smiled. He asked me whether I noticed the half-open draw of the officer’s table. Litigants who had to swear an affidavit were required to drop a fiver in; the pronunciation was immaterial thereafter. I was very disturbed and refused to pay. Being genetically obstinate, I informed the clerk that I will continue to read out the printed oath till the officer signed the affidavit even if it took the whole day.

The clerk went inside the room and within minutes came out with the affidavit  signed. I do not know what  transpired inside. Apparently the officer had liked my pronunciation!

After about 30 years, when Annas and Ramdevs are ‘sacrificing their food’ for the sake of a new law against corruption, I think the officer had already thought of a mechanism to avoid the Lokpal. A half-open draw and no demand. That was a new art of collecting ‘black money’.

My good friend Maheshbhai, who has an anecdote for every occasion, had one on the ‘burning issue’ of the day. A traditional sethia (money-lender) had narrated this story. He used to stash a lot of cash and one day the  income tax raid took place. The sethia produced his wealth and the income tax officer berated him for stashing so much cash.

The sethia politely told him that now that the raid was over, he had to complete the customary formalities. He then brought out his cheque book and offered it to the officer. While eager to get his share, the IT officer had to scold the sethia for offering him a cheque.

The sethia replied : “Sir, now you know why I have to keep so much cash in my house. High-ranking officers like you — sale-tax, civic officers — visit my house for some inspection or the other. None of you take a cheque payment but I have to do my duty.

Tell me, sir, what do I do?” This is the vicious question that capitalism has no answer for.

The writer is an Ahmedabad-based lawyer and human rights activist