Karuppiah was always a contented traffic constable. He never aspired to become an SI and climb up in life. For he was aware of the wicked ways of the greedy, capricious human mind. Once an SI, it sets its eyes on becoming an Inspector, once an Inspector, it does not let you rest till you become an Assistant Commissioner and every AC, in turn, lives out the dream of becoming a DC. Karuppiah would have none of it. He is content with whatever life has bestowed him with. He is a happy man with two children, the elder doing college and her younger sibling in polytechnic. His basic is Rs.7200 and what with DA at 140%, subsidised accommodation at the police quarters, liveries twice a year and free travel pass, he does make ends meet. Life is not easy but then whose life is a breeze nowadays?
There is but only one thing on which Karuppiah does not compromise. The daily morning beat at the Thousand lights traffic junction. Always obedient and subservient to his masters, he has always managed to curry favours with them and stick to that prized posting for years together. On the rare occasions when he was assigned duty at other places, he would beg, plead, cajole and threaten anyone who mattered, to cancel the order and revert to his original beat. For that particular junction had a reputation of a minimum guaranteed return of Rs.800 each week day and Rs.300 on lean days. It is there for the taking but it requires a rare combination of endurance and intelligence to reap the harvest. Endurance, because it means standing under the hot sun for at least six hours a day and intelligence, because he has to find some modicum of violation of rules in even the staunchest among the law-abiders. The goods vans he accosts might stick to the speed limit, have the perfect papers and a valid FC. But our Karuppiah would still succeed in extracting at least Rs.50 from the driver on the pretext that the tail lamp is broken.
"But then this is broad daylight!" the driver may protest but Karuppiah would not budge..
"With the same broken lamp, you might drive in the night", he would say.
"No, I would not."
"Yes you did, just last night. TN 22 Y 6279. I do not forget a vehicle for one week if I spot it once. Were you not speeding through Pycrofts Road last night?"
The driver would not be expecting this. He would quietly dig into his pocket and fish out a tenner. After three rounds of hard negotiations, Karuppiah would settle for 50/- and release the hapless driver. And then laugh within himself. For he knew that eight out of ten times, a goods van sporting the owner's address as '35, Oil Monger street, Zambazar' would be roaming the vicinity of Pycrofts Road every evening. Karuppiah would be pleased at his quick-thinking and ingenuity. But then he was never greedy. After the daily collections hit the targeted amount, he would quietly withdraw to the corner tea-stall and rest under the shade. 'No more collection today', he would tell himself, 'what are you going to take with you when leaving this world?'
Rajasekaran did not particularly mean to fix Karuppiah for any reason. Neither was his scooter waylaid by Karuppiah any time whenever he passed through the traffic junction, nor had he any general dislike for traffic constables. No, it was not Rajasekaran's fault at all. It was only Karuppiah's misfortune that on that particular Thursday, at 10 in the morning, Rajasekaran just happened to be waiting at the Aavin milk booth at the Whites Road - Mount Road junction for his friend, who did not turn up for the rendezvous. Lord Saturn assumes many forms, unnoticed by ordinary mortals, and for Karuppiah, He took the form of Rajasekaran's friend that day. While waiting, Rajasekaran's eyes fell on Karuppiah doing his 'duty'. The initial amusement turned into amazement, then to a slight sick feeling and ultimately after the expiry of 30 minutes, to one of plain anger.
A little introduction on Rajasekaran. He just finished his MA in Political Science at Presidency and no, he is not looking for a job. In fact, he is not looking for anything. He is an 'idealist', as he would frequently remind his friends, and would take pride in enjoying his freedom doing nothing, rather than grab an office job and be a 'slave' of some capitalist master. The 'idealist' in him saw something wrong in everything happening around him. He was convinced that the world is going to dogs and it fell upon the lot of people like him to salvage some vestige of hope. He saw corruption everywhere around him. Why, only the other day, the clerk at the University demanded 500 bucks for a provisional certificate! The gall! Rajasekaran said 'go to hell' and did not collect the certificate. Not that it held much value for him. One may ask how then the 'idealist' managed to eke out a living. He had for a family, his aged father and an elder sister of marriageable age. Ekeing out a living was absolutely no problem for him, for the father's pension and sister's salary from the IT Company she does the night shifts for, take care of that. An 'idealist' like Rajasekaran could not be bothered with the day-to-day trifles of earning a living. He is meant for higher things, like reforming the world and ridding it of corruption. Yes, you are right, he normally is seen in a pyjama, kurta and a jolna bag, with thick glasses and a three-day old stubble. The kind one would normally spot doing the rounds of book shops selling Lenin and Karl-Marx stuff.
The trap he set for Karuppiah was something like this. On that Thursday, with his blood boiling on seeing the grave deed of bribe-taking just before his eyes for the last half-hour, convinced that if he does not step in, this India would slip down to rank 131 from 130 in the corruption index, he proceeded straight to the Thousand Lights police station, even without meeting his friend. He managed to meet the Asst. Commissioner there and narrated what he has been witnessing at the traffic junction. The AC was in a foul mood that day, what with two processions slated to pass through his area that day with the prospect of completely throwing the peak-hour traffic into disarray. Already life has become hell for him for the past two weeks, what with the one-ways and traffic diversions caused by the Metro work causing huge traffic-jams all through the day. He had absolutely no inclination to accompany this jolna-bag wallah to Karuppiah's work-station at that time. Further, what exactly is the charge this fool is levying? That Karuppiah is taking money from passing vehicles? Why he himself has been doing this since time immemorial till he became an AC! He has stopped now, but purely because there are other easier ways to earn. Moreover, what harm can a small bribe-taker cause to the society?
But something about the look and demeanour of Rajasekaran warned him not to take this human nuisance lightly. For all he knew, he may be from the press with a hidden camera and a recorder. Images of 'Breaking News' from the TV played in his mind. How the AC wished that the earth would be one day free of the press-people! Life would be much easier for everyone! And so, with great reluctance, he accompanied Rajasekaran to the junction, stood at a distance and started observing Karuppiah. 20 minutes passed. He saw what he expected to see and Karuppiah did not disappoint him. Always the good cop that he was, Karuppiah was in a collection spree, oblivious of the world around him and Rajasekaran with a victorious 'I told you so' grin.
In deference to Karuppiah's wishes, what happened thereafter would now be summarised in a few words. He was caught red-handed even as he was pocketing the Rs.20 he just squeezed out of the scooterist without a helmet, departmental proceedings were initiated against him, the case went further up to the Deputy Commissioner in charge of the area and two days after a letter by Rajasekaran to the editor of the leading 'conservative' English newspaper bemoaned the lackadaisical approach of the authorities in bringing to book a public servant caught in the act of looting the country, Karuppiah was suspended. The enquiry is still on, at the moment of writing this (which is a good six months later) and the police circles say Karuppiah would be eventually dismissed from service.
'There is still hope for this country because of the Rajasekarans', the press said. 'Little bribes are the root-cause of big corruption', the intelligentsia expounded, 'The scourge of corruption has to be eradicated and the effort should start at the bottom - wiping out bribe-taking at the level of police constables and sarkari peons', the local ward councillor said in the last meeting.
Rajasekaran began to be increasingly noticed in the 'civil society'. The local district lions club invited him for their open meeting where Rajasekaran expounded on the evils of corruption eating at the very vitals of the society. He gave a clarion call to all the educated to come out to the streets and wage a war against this evil. 'The crusade has just started', he roared and enjoined everyone to be a part of it. After the speech, the secretary of the lions club presented a memento to Rajasekaran in honour of his meritorious service towards society. The meeting ended with cocktails and dinner.
Meanwhile, Karuppiah's daughter was politely told by the private college principal to stop attending the classes because of default in payment of fees of two semesters. She quit college mid-way and was last seen doing the 12 hour shift in the export-garments unit as a tailor. Her brother in polytechnic faced uncomfortable questions from his teachers and other students about his father's evil ways and he too one day quit, not to return to the class. A post-card written by him to his sister informed that he is now in Bangalore, employed in a restaurant as a waiter and that he is well and no one need worry.
And purely by chance, did two people from Chennai got down from the bus at Tirumala, the abode of Lord Balaji, on a Purattasi Saturday and proceeded towards the Vaikuntam Queue complex together for the Darshan. Neither knew the other. They reached the enquiry counter and were informed that it would take 52 hours in the Dharma Darshan queue.
'How fast in Rs.50 queue?'
'24 hours'
"And in the Rs.200 queue?'
'may be 8 hours'
Disappointment engulfed both. They had to return to Chennai very fast. At this moment, the man behind the clerk said, "Buy Rs.500 tickets. You can have the Darshan within 3 hours".
For both, Rs.500 was a big burden. A nerve-wracking dilemma played out in their minds. 'To take or not to take?' They had come all the way with some purpose. That of pouring out their grief before Balaji and pleading for deliverance from their troubles. And finally they decided to take the bait. Bought the 500 bucks ticket, had the micro-second fleeting Darshan within 3 hours and emerged out with the burden of their hearts considerably lightened. Both were satisfied and were positive that the Lord would answer their prayers. If faith can move mountains, what to say of these two mere mortals?
Before the story ends, one of the two was the wife of Karuppiah, having traversed 170 kms to implore the Lord to give her spouse his job back. The other was the father of Rajasekaran, having endured the same travails to invoke Balaji's blessings for his son to get a job. Both had a purpose. Both had their appointments with Balaji. And both came out satisfied, sure that their prayers would be answered. And answered they would be, for sure. Why not? For both had paid their speed-money of 500 bucks to the Lord!
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