By AK Harbola
Recently, I had a chance to visit Kanpur, where my elder brother is a professor at IIT. IITs give a great sense of pride to all of us, notwithstanding some recent avoidable incidents. I recall the pressure I faced in my student days to crack the JEE, just because my brother had done so. As Kanpur is not conveniently connected by air, I took a flight to Lucknow before taking a cab that my brother had arranged from Kanpur.
Upon arrival, the cab ‘pilot’ (I noticed the word ‘pilot’ displayed on the driver’s door) Sinod, as he introduced himself, greeted me with a pleasant and warm smile. His body language was full of zeal. I boarded the cab and settled in the front seat. We started our journey to Kanpur.
During initial formal talks on weather, rains, and family, he noticed a book titled Environmental Ethics in my hand. He started a light conversation by asking me what the book was about. Before I could answer, he questioned: “What does the environment have to do with ethics?” I could make out that Sinod enjoyed talking and was freely upright in giving his opinion and judgment on every subject, whether sought or not.
After I gave him a little perspective, he offered his first opinion: “Sir, people keep talking about big things like environmental ethics, climate change, and sustainable growth. However, today’s environment and ethics for a common man are different from what the so‑called ‘big people’ discuss.”
He casually but confidently added: “Saheb, main to common aadmi ke environment ki baat kar raha hun jiske liye routine corruption, beimaani aur paying bribes aaj kal ke samaaj mein aam baat ho gayi hai.” (Sir, I am talking about the environment for a common man nowadays, where routine corruption, dishonesty, and bribes have become normal practices in society.)
We reached the starting point of the Lucknow–Kanpur Expressway, I noticed that he suddenly turned the car and detoured towards another road. I asked him why he was not using the newly built expressway, which I guessed would save an hour or so and be faster, notwithstanding my own interest in traveling through that route after hearing so much about it. I was disappointed when he informed me that the expressway was closed because of construction and maintenance issues.
He, however praised the ecosystem responsible for the road’s construction: “Our environment is absolutely honest in its approach.”
Surprised, I asked him why. He explained: “Sir, pehle Saheb ne bola ki hum sadke America ki tarah banayenge, and ensured it that way. Saheb was absolutely right and honest about what he said, because the initial users confirmed smooth driving on the road.”
Sinod quickly added: ‘Nobody ever guaranteed about how long the road would last. Maybe it’s the fault of the people expecting the road to last for years.’
He then explained the contractor’s approach: “Sir, thekedaar bechara kya karega? Jitne ka theka mila, uska lagbhag 25% usne upar walon ko pahunchadiya. Baaki ka 25% uska profit aur chhota mota kharchaa jo local system ko jaata hai. Bache huye 50% se road bana di. Ab itne paise mein to aisi hi road banegi.” (Sir, what will the poor contractor do? About 25% of the project cost goes to higher‑ups, another 25% is his profit and local expenses, and the remaining 50% is used for construction. With that, only such a road will be built.)
He laughed heartily, adding: “At least repair work will now provide some employment to the needy.”
We continued our journey, which would now take another two hours, and kept our informal talks on. On my asking him about the government’s policy of direct digital payments for availing services, he replied ‘Sir, iske fayde to pata nahi, lekin main nuksaan bata sakta hoon.’ (Sir, I don’t know the advantages, but I can tell you the disadvantages.)
He continued: “Earlier, in the manual system, we used to get a driving license within two hours for two thousand, without any problem. It was easier to pay some underhand money through an agent. Now, because of the online system, we have to go multiple times for the same work even after paying the online fee, because the authority deliberately points out deficiencies in documents again and again. Out of frustration, either you end up paying something underhand, or keep doing rounds. In both cases, it costs more than the earlier manual system.”
He was sympathetic towards the touts.
He then narrated a story about a traffic law enforcer catching him for over‑speeding. Sinod mentioned honestly: ‘Earlier penalty charges were much lower, and I preferred to pay them genuinely whenever caught, particularly on highways. Now, with penalties enhanced considerably, it is better to pay an underhand amount, though higher than earlier rates, and get free’.
He also shared an anecdote about how he threatened to expose the matter on social media to escape a law enforcer. Once caught for not wearing a seat belt, he was asked to pay an underhand amount, which he thought was much higher than prevailing rates. He made an honest proposal: “I will wait here and observe how many seat‑belt defaulters you stop and officially fine. I will record everything, and if you leave any defaulter unnoticed or settle unofficially, the recording will go on social media.’’ Having realized he was confronting a hard nut, the lawman warned him to be more careful in the future and let him go without penalty. Again, a typical Sinod Bhai laugh.
Having dominated the conversation, he gave me an opportunity to speak by asking if I had something to say. On my polite denial, he said: “Sir, aap logon ka problem yahi hai ki aap log bolte nahi ho.” (The problem with you people is that you don’t speak.)
After a pause, he said: “Sir, environment to ho gaya, ab ethics ki baat karein?” (Environment is over, shall we talk ethics now?)
On my agreeing, he said: “Aadmi ke ethics ka standard bahut ooncha ho gaya hai. Ab wo Bhagwaan se bhi apna cut maangne mein hichkichaata nahi. Dekha na aapne Ayodhya mein?” (The standards of human ethics have gone much higher. They are not leaving even God in asking for their share. You saw what happened in Ayodhya?)
This time it was not a laugh but a piercing smile, as if he was emotionally sensitive and sad. He then asked if I could tell when we would know who actually diverted the donations and whether the money would be recovered, notwithstanding punishment to the wrongdoers. I again preferred to remain quiet.
We were entering the main gate of the institution now, which has the greatly deserving sense of having given some of the brightest scientists, academicians, entrepreneurs, and bureaucrats not only to the nation but to the world. I too found myself richer in my outlook and understanding of a common man’s perspective on simple but important issues.
Sinod bid me goodbye, saying: ‘Sir, bade log ye kab samjhenge ki rojmarra corruption, sadak ke gaddhe, bijli ki kami or pyaaz ki keemte sarkar badal sakti hai?’ (Sir, when will the elite learn that routine corruption, potholes, electricity shortages, and onion prices can even change governments?)
(AK Harbola is a former Coast Guard Officer. He writes on maritime and social issues.)
