Thinking Aloud Stolen goods, ceremonially handed over!

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Twenty five years ago, five years before the Berlin Wall fell, I was at the Wall and had just climbed the few steps that led to the top of the Wall when an East German soldier on the other side of the Wall pointed his AK-47 at me and asked me to get down or else-in German, which I didn’t understand. From a height of about 20 feet, I could hardly see the man, who was wearing a rounded steel helmet-the kind Hitler’s soldiers did-but I could just make out the rifle and wondered why he was pointing it at me.

I was, after all, an Indian, not a West German, nor an American, and I meant no harm. But the East German private did not lower his rifle until I got down from the Wall, a little shaken perhaps, but none the worse for wear.

We were on a visit to Western Europe capitals and had finished most of the cities and were now visiting Berlin, our last stop. This was in 1984 and Berlin was an occupied territory in the midst of the Russian-occupied Germany. We were therefore obliged to fly to Berlin instead of going by train and somehow reached the airport which was under Soviet control.

It was not much of an airport-we couldn’t manage to get even a sandwich, let alone a whole meal, though it was lunch time-but it was crawling with soldiers, as if the airport was taken over by the army. There were Russian officers all over the place, glowering at us as if we had committed a crime by visiting Berlin. The airport authorities could not or would not answer our questions and said nyet to everything we asked. It was not clear why they were so hostile.

It turned out that the Soviets were keen to fly us out of Berlin in their own plane and were annoyed that the West Germans, whose guests we were, would not let them do it, for very good reasons. They were not sure whether the East Germans would really take us to Frankfurt or carry us back to Berlin and dump us there. They had done so before and might do so again, just to annoy the West Germans, and please their Soviet masters.

Since then, I have always avoided Communist airlines, particularly Aeroflot, in fact, all so-called national airlines, including our own, Air India. I have nothing against Air India. It is a fine airline, or so I am told, though I have not flown in it for the last forty years. My only complaint against it is that it is a babu airline, run by babus for other babus, which also include ministers and other sundry hangers-on, who do not pay for their fares from their own pockets and whose expenses are borne by us, poor taxpayers. When you travel by a foreign airline, you pay your own fare, and so does everybody else.

Air India is now in trouble, and for very good reason. It is not run as a commercial airline, but, as I said, a babu bus service. It is regularly bailed out by the taxpayers, that is, you and me, which means the taxpayer is taken for granted and ultimately foots the bill. I simply do not see why we should fork out hard cash to put it back on its feet from time to time, since it is not of much use to us, the ordinary travellers. It is run for the netas and their babus, most of whom are on pleasure rides. I have yet to see a so-called minister do a day’s useful work in London or Paris or Washington. He is usually doing shopping or eating in five-star restaurants, all at our cost. And the babus who go out on delegations do the same.

I once came across a couple of our babus held up in a large store in Knightsbridge, London, because they were suspected of shop-lifting-nothing very expensive, only a couple of shirts which they were taking out in their official briefcases. The briefcases were presented to them by Her Majesty’s government-this was stamped prominently on the briefcases-which meant that the babus were in London on official business and had some kind of diplomatic immunity. The store could not touch them without causing offence.

I too was an official guest but in another delegation and was approached by the store management to sort out what would have been a serious diplomatic incident. I asked the babus to handover their stuff to me-which was perfectly legal, an Indian handingover stolen property to another Indian without anybody noticing it-which then was handed over to the store management in a ceremonial gesture, as you handover a sword when the battle is over. The store officials duly bowed, and the babus left the store minus the shirts, on very unsteady legs.

I have never quite understood why we spend so much money on our airlines and airports. After all, only a fraction of our travellers use them. I was recently in Delhi and for the first time used the new airport which Praful Patel & Co have spent so much money on. It is a gleaming edifice clad in glass and stainless steel and it took me a whole hour to find my way to the checking counter. It must be consuming a lot of power, for there are so many boarding gates and escalators and you keep going up and down looking for your own gate. In the end, I arrived at the wrong gate and almost got into the wrong plane, if a kind lady from Haryana who was joining her son in Pune had not pointed out that I was in the wrong line.

It is our railway stations, not airports, that have to be renovated and modernised, for millions of Indians use them and they are treated like cattle. Probably there is more money in airports-and therefore bigger kickbacks for netas and their babus-than there is in railway stations and that maybe why, so many airports are being renovated. In Pune, which at one time used to boast the cleanest railway station in Western India, the station is a stinking mess, which may be news to Lalu & Co, but the fact that you have to step over a thousand sleeping passengers on your way to your bogie helps no one. Yet it is the Pune airport that is being renovated, not Pune railway station.

If I were an aviation minister, I would forget Air India and its overpaid employees and divert all the money to Mamata Banerjee’s railways. I really don’t understand why she doesn’t ask for it and ask the Prime Minister to shutdown the Aviation Ministry and send Praful Patel home. The railways are our real national arteries, not the airlines, certainly not Air India, which is a great burden except for the babus who do little but enjoy themselves in the fleshpots of London and Paris-and all at our cost!

(Dr Dubashi is presently living in Pune, and his postal address is 301, Manikan Cahn Apts., Kanchan Gali, Law College Road, Pune-411 004, Tel. No. 020-25452395)

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