The Great Indian Loot: Living next to the Looters

The Great Indian Loot: Living next to the Looters

A few centuries ago, the British started looting India. Of course, they took the diamonds and jewels. But the main loot involved Indian resources. The resources were presumably expropriated by trading through  adverse terms of trade. The process has been documented by economists and historians -– it went on for a long time.

Currently, Indian resources are being looted by Indians on a large scale. They expropriate resources earmarked for welfare programs, for capital improvements. They steal funds earmarked for charities.

Funds earmarked for educational programs in schools are being appropriated by teachers. Politicians and their associates are selling jobs for money.

Some of these thieves are fat cats, far away from normal people like us, smoking fat cigars in their mansions or luxury high-rise apartments. But many are all around me. Yes   some of my  relatives, my friends, my neighbors, and many of my acquaintances are also involved in this Great Indian Loot. It stinks, doesn’t it?

Years ago, in a Kolkata neighborhood, my neighbors will be teachers, bank employees, small business people, government workers and so forth – the kind of people  who get regular paychecks, go to work regularly,  complain about inflation regularly and disagree with spouses occasionally. They will not be looting anything even if they were not totally above board.  After retirement these people will hang out in the local teashops, talk about past bravados, lousy bosses, beautiful women that they did not date but wanted to, and designate all politicians  as incompetent nincompoops. If I met these people in my neighborhood after coming back from America after retirement, I will be happily spending my golden years here .

But that’s not to be. My old neighborhood, where I returned, looks similar, but my neighbors have morphed. On my right side, there is a fantastic three-storied house with beautifully landscaped potted plants on the terrace and balcony, three cars and a retinue of servants. A promoter built the house about thirty years ago. In case you do not know about the species called promoters, they started roaming Kolkata about thirty five years ago. Their job was to buy old properties in a rapidly changing city and build high rises, selling them for a profit. The business model was legit – but its execution was neither conventional nor legal. Because of complex property laws, many old houses will have several owners/tenants , some of them paying very low rents under rent control. The promoters will somehow force all the owners/tenants to sell. In the process, sometimes some owners’ children will disappear, and return later with broken limbs or missing virginity, some owners will be robbed or beaten repeatedly, some might even disappear completely. After the land and the old buildings are acquired, lot of bribes were paid and lot of regulations broken in the process of building the new high rise apartment buildings. Apart from these main activities , promoters also dabble in many nefarious ventures and retain a bunch of goons and many local politicians and public servants, including the police, on their payroll.

Our promoter next door, after promoting to his heart’s content, settled down about ten years ago in his nice house, semi-retired. Unfortunately, the gods were not nice to him and he passed away soon afterwards . Now his wife and two grown children live in that house. I do not know what professions, if any, they are engaged in but I do know they keep to themselves. Thye behave like true aristocrats.  I hear them calling the servants by their generic names, like “security”, “driver” “darwan” , “gardener” etc. ,  -never their real names. I also hear their very loud bells that they use to summon the maid ( maids!)  

Two doors down, on the other side, an accountant owned a house. He was about my father’s age, worked for the central government – was posted in Ranchi most of his life. He was  our timid uncle, very soft spoken, he only visited  his house on vacations. He was always scared of his wife who was always mad at him because he lived in far away Ranchi while she had the responsibility for raising their four children. He prayed for a transfer to Kolkata which never materialized. By the time he retired, the kids have grown, the two older boys had become accountants also, and the girl was ready for marriage.

I went to school with the younger accountant boy, we played and chatted for years meeting almost every day. I reconnected with him after I returned from America. I found him reserved and somewhat distant. I thought he was intimidated by me. However, about a month ago agents from the Income Tax department raided his house. They were around for about four days , taking many boxes of documents from his house. He was not arrested, but I am sure he is under subpoena to appear before a judge in the near future.

Entire professions have changed substantively. Accounting was a boring profession, albeit well-compensated. But India changed from the early nineties. From abject poverty and sick domestic industries and  draconic banking regulations and  stifling government control over all sectors of the economy, India exploded with huge increase in trade and services. The number of both large and small businesses exploded, so did the number of agencies and schools and colleges that receive government funds. Accountants now are very busy and many get paid both over and under the table.

Law enforcement has been generically corrupt since its inception in British India 200 years ago. The legal system in India, for reasons to numerous to discuss here , has been totally dysfunctional for many years. Fortunately, I do not get a chance to hobnob with police officers or lawyers. But school teachers? I had hope there.

When I was enrolled  in my local school, the primary school teachers lived below the poverty level, while secondary school teachers lived a little bit above the poverty level. The schools were threadbare, our school had no electricity except in the offices and the teachers’ room downstairs. There were about 15 urinals for the needs of about 3000 students and one tube well for drinking water. No library, only elemental labs, no sports equipment, no landscaping.  Again, things changed from the nineties when India started getting prosperous. The teachers’ salaries increased to the point that they are comfortably paid now. During recent years the government built hundreds of new schools – even in remote villages, money started rolling in for capital improvements and infrastructure. At some point of time the looting started, by the teachers themselves, because the funds distributed by the government had limited oversight.

Unaware of all this, I naively went to my old school with an open checkbook, willing to donate big money for a good cause about nine years ago. The headmaster and the others were kind of horrified, and flatly refused to accept any donation from me, lest the accounting entailed with my donation will expose their own pilferage with the school funds. I tried for three years before the reality of the ongoing loot hit me !

As the teachers jobs, in fact all jobs in schools turned out to have decent pay and benefits and much less workload than private sector jobs, administrators and  politicians including Bengal’s erstwhile education minister started selling these jobs in exchange for fat bribes. Seven million dollars worth of Indian currency  were found in the minister’s mistress’s apartment. The extent of this ongoing scandal and several others like smuggling of cows and stealing of coal has convinced me that every single politician in Bengal is involved in this loot. The Enforcement Directorate is finding millions of dollars worth of  additional irregularities in the books almost every day!

Banks in the 70’s and the 80’s were the epitome of inefficiency, the clerical staff and the tellers were intent to do no work if possible. Harried bank officers stayed in their offices until 8 pm at night to finish up the banks’  routine work.  Then things changed – loans, mortgages and foreign transactions increased possibly one hundred times as the economy improved. The bank employees started working and were well-compensated, but the big business in India started looting the banks’ loanable funds – many of the bank employees were handsomely rewarded for this. The climax was reached during demonetization in 2016 when about 97% of the old notes came back to the banking system. No matter what people tell you, every single one of the banks’ branch managers and senior employees profited handsomely from this operation.

People in public service and in administrative jobs are surrounded by law enforcement, politicians, and wealthy business people – before you know it they are pushed into schemes where they participate in the loot.

Why am I complaining about this? I have a decent standard of living after retirement in Kolkata.  There is wonderful shopping, food and entertainment  available at my fingertips. Traffic is a problem but a car with air conditioning makes things easier. But I still can not talk to some of my cousins, their children or many of my old friends. They are hesitant to discuss their work life with me, some are actually afraid that their display of wealth disproportionate to their income will upset me.

Don’t get me wrong. I have met some very nice school teachers, some professors, a sweet librarian who specialized  in Chinese, a musician and some small business people – I happily hang out with them. I even found some charities that will not steal my money. My regret is that I hoped to have a more vigorous and more extensive social life after I retired in India.

There are shameless people I keep on meeting in Kolkata. A few years ago I met a great singer of classical music in a cultural gathering. Her husband was a councilor for a municipality in a suburb of Kolkata, We started talking and when he heard that I am visiting his neighborhood for a wedding invitation, he invited me to his house. Four of us went to his penthouse apartment and our jaws dropped. The furniture, the curtains, the window decorations, the wall decorations, the artwork, the lighting, everything was custom made – obviously done by an interior decorator. The apartment had a dreamy quality to it, right out of Bollywood – like a multi-millionaire’s house.

“This is a fabulous place. How do you keep everything clean and shiny?” I asked

“We don’t live here” The councillor said

“Huh?” It was my turn  to be surprised, again.

“We come here twice every week to drink some tea. That’s when the maid comes to clean up” he said

“We live in our older house with our grown son and his family “ He clarified.

Of course, with his councilor’s salary of 30 K rupees (about 375 dollars) per month or so, this apartment can not be shown to the public. The interior decorations and the artwork and the furnishing themselves must have cost about 100 thousand dollars!! He was just showing it off to the old NRI fool!

Traffic in India – Part I

Traffic in India  – part one

Traffic in India is insane, insanely hilarious, insanely annoying and insanely frustrating.

If you have not driven anything in your life, you will not fathom the  deep insanity of Indian traffic. A non-driver sees traffic  as a flow of  assorted vehicles , either smooth and orderly, or abrupt and noisy, or engrossed in snare and chaos. To him or her, the snare and chaos will appear to be the steady-state of Indian traffic.  However,  only a driver will understand the true terror and lawlessness that engulfs Indian traffic twenty-four hours a day  (yes even late at night!).

Even more amazing are the social norms about traffic held by drivers and non-drivers alike in India:

Drivers need to be smart and talented in the art of driving.

Any empty road surface is accessible to any vehicle on the road.

Complicity with all the traffic laws will endanger your life anyways, because others will be angry and destructive towards you.

Playing chicken is good, specially when you are plying a motorized vehicle!

Hit and run after any  accident is not necessarily  a criminal activity (well, it is, in every country of the world, including India – for even minor accidents –  punishable by jail time, severe penalties, and suspension of license – yes even in India!)

Equally amazing are the beliefs about traffic shared by drivers and non-drivers alike:

Traffic is more orderly in North America and Western Europe, anywhere else in the world it is similar to Traffic in India, only a tad more or less crazy!

(Fact: I have been to  countries like  Kazakhstan in Central  Asia, Thailand,  Cambodia  and Malaysia and Singapore in South East Asia,  Dubai and Oman  in the Middle East, and Japan and China and Hong  Kong in the  Far east, and believe me, traffic is not nearly as crazy as in India  – not even close! Assuming traffic is the same in the entire Indian subcontinent, it is crazy on an  elevated level in India and our neighbors)

Speed limits are only relevant for highways monitored by cameras only. If you own a motorcycle and firmly believe that you have a stupendous magnum penis, then you have the right to  drive at any speed in small side streets, terrorizing pedestrians and other traffic  as long as you use your horn frequently.  Such beastly behavior will impress your male friends and bring forth quasi-orgasmic approval from all the females who happen to witness this spectacle.

Right of way? WTF is that? A legal term enabling senior citizens and young women to move around as they please without getting mugged or raped?  A new brand of deodorant? A new dating app, perhaps?

Yield? What? Yield to what ? To whom? You mean to a VIP convoy? To a politician of the ruling party? To a Bollywood celebrity perhaps. Or, are you talking about yielding  to your spouse’s romantic advances? Oh  hell yeah,  it is a good idea to yield to an Ambulance because it will prevent ill people from dying on the way to the hospital.  Indians are slowly learning to yield occasionally to all kinds of emergency vehicles. Are there other traffic rules about “yield” ? You have to be freaking  kidding me!

And a case study!!

Let’s now do a case study of a quintessential Indian driver. His name is Ashok Dutta, my close friend. I am thankful for his habit of not reading  much of anything on the internet (or anywhere else – he is a talented tabla player) –so please don’t tell him about this blog!! The first time I got alarmed about him was actually in Toronto, Canada. He and I were walking around, not even driving,  in downtown Toronto, just wandering about.  In any downtown in North America, there are lots of crisscrossing streets and hence a traffic light every 50 meters or so. We were walking normally, until I saw Ashok getting excited.

“Let’s get this one, come on!” He said suddenly

“Get what?” I was clueless.

Turns out he was wanting me to walk faster so we can get step into the pedestrian crosswalk before the light changes. Every time we were stopping at an intersection, we would wait a maximum of 90 seconds or less before we crossed the street.  So the entire route involved waiting for the light at crosswalks for a total about 900 seconds which is fifteen minutes – at the most. After he dragged me through the sidewalk a couple of times forcing me to power walk so we can “get this one”, I explained to him that we have nowhere to go , we have all the time on our hands, and there are no hot chicks waiting for us in the guesthouse where we were staying!

The second time was even more alarming! I was driving my rental car around on the expressway in Toronto, Ashok was in the passenger seat.  There were large trucks on the rood as well. Several times when I was behind a truck, the following conversation would ensue:

A: Please get the truck.

Me: Overtake?

A: Yes, please.

Me: The speed limit is 65 miles an hour. Both the truck and myself  are driving at 70 miles an hour.  I have to speed up to about  80 miles an hour to overtake the truck quickly. Why do I need to do that?

A: so you can see the road better if you are not behind a huge truck!

Me: hmmm. The truck is not bothering me.

Then , back in 2017, when I started spending  six whole months in India , I rode  pillion on Ashok’s motorbike ! Oh the horror! The travesty!

He drives on the left  side of the road only when there is no traffic. If the road is busy, he is driving somewhere on the right of the middle of the road because he is always   overtaking (or planning to overtake) the car or truck or bus in front of him.  So 80% of the time he is on the wrong side, on a collision course with the oncoming traffic and risking a sideswipe with whatever vehicle he is overtaking. Oh yes, sometimes overtaking a vehicle on the right is not possible,  so he immediately  overtakes on the left, risking collision with pedestrians, bicycles, motorized carts, three-wheelers  etc. who do not expect him to come from behind (because they are on their side of the street, minding their own business)

When  Ashok needs to actually take a right turn, the monster reveals himself – he just takes a right turn! – no signal,  no waiting for the oncoming traffic, and he enters the road on the right side while driving on the right side (the illegal side), sometimes at a breakneck speed, honking his horn incessantly. I have seen him taking a right turn in front of  three   cars driving abreast, coming from the other side,  along with two  motor bikes. He cleared the last  motor bike by about one foot!

When he is not overtaking, he is riding abreast with two or three other two-wheelers in a tight space, with inches between them and at a great risk of side-swiping and crashing.

Of course, two wheeler vehicles became popular in India because of their maneuverability on crowded streets and ability to weave through traffic. To illustrate this, Ashok took me to visit my lawyer’s house through a  busy market street not wide enough for cars. He told me that going through the main road will take about one hour. Through the market, he rode merrily, inches from the veggie  and fruit sellers sitting on the street, my feet dangling from his bike passing about six inches away from some fishmonger’s  knives,  sometimes six inches from another bike’s red hot  exhaust. Horns were being blown by all the bikes present,  terrorizing the housewives shopping , dogs were running in fright. On the one hand,  I was wanting to shrink myself to a human of about one foot in size to escape serious injury, on the other hand I was mesmerized at his unbelievable driving skills, weaving,  braking, honking and  creating a mayhem on that narrow street full of people, but managing not to hit a single soul or a single piece of fruit.

“There” said Ashok when we arrived at our destination “we saved twenty minutes. You are OK, aren’t you?” I was so far from being OK that all I could manage was to nod my head and he took it as a sign of approval.

There is a basic lack of apprehension on the part of Indian drivers like Ashok,  you get a blank stare , a sense of total disbelief when you ask some questions.  Ashok takes a very small alley near his house to go home from our place, the alley is four feet wide, just enough for a full sized bike to fit in – it saves him about 25 seconds, He told me a few times “Take this great shortcut on your bicycle when you visit us, it will save you time’” After going through it the first time, I politely refused , telling him “I am not taking that alley. Do you know little children play there? Sometimes old people walk there as well”. 

His response was a  an incredulous “So?” meaning  “why are you telling me this ? There is no chance in hell I am going to hit someone in the alley. I am Ashok, the veteran bike rider.”  I did not tell him that there is a beautiful young lady that lives  close to my house – one of her eyes is gone. When she was a little girl, she shot out into the empty street and a bike came out of nowhere and  hit her, the corner handle  pierced  her eye.   Of course the rider was not our great Ashok, so it is not relevant, is it?

Yes, I told him once, when he  was with his wife, myself and another friend. His wife, who hesitates to ride pillion on his bike, asked me what sort of a driver he was.

“A good driver, but he violates 100% of the traffic laws 100% of the time” I replied, causing ripples of laughter all around. Next time though I was with Ashok alone, and I told him the same thing. I could see he was deeply hurt and seriously offended. With a wry grin he told me “ I never had an accident in forty years”

“That’s great”, I said “I am glad to hear that”.

(No Accident? You freaking kidding me? He has accidents everyday!! His arms and legs have lacerations and bruises all the time, his bike parts are being broken and replaced all the time – How the hell do you explain that? Of course he has not been hospitalized with major  trauma yet – what a freaking miracle!!)

What is remarkable with Indian drivers is their amazing skills at balancing, weaving, anticipating, calculating and  assorted other things that are needed for driving both cars and motorbikes.  Oh, the drivers also seem to have three or four pairs of eyes also, because they can always see who is about to crash into them  from behind or from the sides, or if there is enough room on the road surface for their vehicle to squeeze through,  or if their rear tire is about six inches away from someone else’s tire or foot, so its OK to proceed normally!! If, on a scale of one to 100, drivers in USA are about 50 on average, drivers like Ashok are about 96 at their skill level!

Not all drivers are crazy like Ashok, there are 75% drivers that are equally or less crazy, and 35% more crazy than him. Well, that adds up to 110%. Because, at a given point the extra 10%  “more crazy” drivers are writhing in pain in the hospitals, or comatose from head trauma, or going to the cremation ground with their grieving family members – at least they are off the streets, finally!

 In the above rambling, I have actually under-reported Ashok’s driving  habits. In the second part, I will describe my venture into riding a bicycle in Indian streets and my investigation into the causes for this unusual phenomenon of traffic in India.

Why am I freaking out about corruption in India?

Corruption exists everywhere in the world, so why does it freak me out in India?

Because it is pervasive, it is in your face, and people kind of shrug off preposterous acts performed by others,

I am ready to donate about 2000 dollars to any educational institution in India on the spot, but have found no takers for the last four years!! I will write in detail about my experience with my own school later. Overall, I found that there are four types of schools

a. schools owned and run by the government. They do not accept charity

b. Government -sponsored schools – a vast majority of schools fall in this category including my old high school. They receive government funding but are also autonomous.. Technically, they can receive charity. But most of the time, the teachers are already misappropriating government funds, so the external charity will reveal the internal corruption. Let’s say the government has given funds for ten computers, and only five have been purchased. Now if I donate money for ten additional computers, the cat will be out of the bag and some people will be in big trouble!!

c. “Charitable” private non-profit Schools : sounds like an oxymoron. These accept “donations” from parents before their children are admitted . Part of the donations are used to provide scholarships to poor students,, and the major part is appropriated by the owner and his network . Serious accounting problems persist here in order to exhibit the non-profit status. Some of these schools actually provide high quality education and their owners seem so happy to be able to provide such valuable service to the society (sarcasm!)

d. Finally a small number of private schools exist primarily in remote villages, and some of those are not controlled by political parties. I am looking for one for the last few years.

I am willing to donate 1000 dollars to charity every month, but it is not possible in India. Of course, you can dump your money to temples or large foundations, but I do not want to do that. Over time I found that most NGO’s steal either some or all of your money! On the other hand, India does not have the abject poverty that was all around till the 1980’s. We do not see beggars howling on the streets, or people scrounging for food on the side of the streets or hordes of beggars at the bus stations or tram depots – a common sight when I was around in the 70’s. So, I am slowly finding out needy people and giving them money , but it takes time and patience. Like everywhere else in the world, there are scammers galore.

A cousin and his family, and another cousin’s son have built their livelihoods on corruption, so I don’t interact with them any more – that’s two out of four cousins’ families that live in Kolkata. I do not have any other surviving relatives in kolkata any longer, except maybe second cousins and their families. My mother and sister have passed away.

Several people that I met and that turned out to be friendly, cultured and well intentioned individuals revealed to have their livelihoods entirely based on corrupt practices , so I do not hang out with them any longer.

It is strange that these individuals, including my cousins’ families are baffled by my aloofness and possibly take it as a sign of my arrogance and /or early dementia!!

My good friend’s elderly father, a wonderful lonely old man, wants to hang out with me, but I am not going to, because several years ago my good friend raped a woman in his own home when I was present there. ( I have no conclusive evidence of this , so I just scream silently about this now and then)

So it is not like – “politicians in Washington are corrupt, or that Wall street managers engage in corrupt insider trading – and they are 1500 miles away from my little cocoon in Lawrence, Kansas” , it is corruption in your face in India!!

Oh, I am not miserable, I have a lot of good friends in Kolkata to hang out with. But it has become my mission to point out how corruption is pervasive and expensive for the Indian society in a way that I never anticipated.

And no, I am not going back to USA any time soon! Food is good here, and my retirement funds go a long way, and I love the people I do hang out with.

Edit: I did not want to appear presumptuous in the above post. It is just that I do not have any inheritance motive, and very limited current expenditures and needs. So I just want to give away about 33% of my monthly income to charity – that comes to about $1000 a month. I don’t need it – in USA it will be easy to find people and organizations who will make good use of it. So far, in India, I am finding it hard to give it to non-corrupt people. I have succeeded in finding some people who will use the money, but much more remains to be done. I have no motive of showing off , or being obnoxious.

My Missions

I am approaching 70 in a couple of months, do not need to or want to work at university teaching any more, have enough money so that I do not need to gamble with stocks and options. Do not need /want to do traditional academic research .

My goal is to analyze corruption in India, it is so pandemic and so pervasive. I will attack this topic with theory data, anecdotes and analysis. I will not change the world, but will provide knowledge to some people who will read my stuff.

Another lighthearted mission is to look at Driving in India – crazy and freaking insane!!

Wish me luck !!